It landed with the softest thud on the flagstones of the courtyard.
Strachan looked up. The brown haze covering Shanghai lifted for a brief moment to reveal the city, in all its wretched glory, sleeping quietly under a full moon.
Beneath him, the body of Thomas Allen, the Judge of Souls, lay with its legs stuck out at an awkward angle, a pool of blood already forming around the head.
Strachan remembered another body with blood forming a dark pool on a tiled floor.
His mother.
What was it Danilov had said in the cemetery? ‘Our job is to protect the weak from the wolves.’
Looking down at the misshapen body of Thomas Allen lying sprawled and unmoving on the concrete of the courtyard, Strachan finally realised he couldn’t save everyone, but that would not stop him from trying.
97
Chief Inspector Rock arrived soon afterwards with Cartwright and Meaker following in his wake. He insisted that Danilov go to hospital to be looked at by a doctor.
‘I’m fine, Chief Inspector; it takes more than a little hanging to kill a Russian.’
Rock stood in front of him, his hat in his hands and looking down at his feet. ‘I must apologise, Inspector Danilov, I…’
Danilov held up his hand. ‘No need, sir. It was your insistence on placing the deaths on a map that helped me solve the crime. I couldn’t find any patterns until I saw your map. Allen had made the city a giant game of chess. We were all just pawns to him.’
He looked across as Allen’s dead body was placed on a stretcher by Dr Fang’s mortuary attendants.
‘I don’t want to attend the autopsy, sir. I’ve seen enough of Allen to last a lifetime.’
‘Of course not. Meaker and Cartwright will attend. They will also write out a detailed report of Dr Fang’s findings, which will be on your desk by tomorrow morning, won’t it, Inspector Meaker.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Meaker answered meekly.
‘Until then, I do believe your family are waiting. Go to them. You, and they, deserve it.’ He pointed across to where Maria, Elina and Ivan were standing. ‘You too, Strachan – go home.’
‘I’d prefer to work, sir, if it’s all right with you.’
‘We’ve done enough for today,’ said Danilov.
Strachan thought of going home to the empty house with the ghost of his mother haunting every corner. ‘I’d still prefer to work, sir.’
Maria joined them. She took hold of Danilov’s arm and leant into him. She spoke in Russian directly to Strachan.
‘My wife has asked me to translate, Strachan. She said it would give us both great pleasure if you joined us at our home to eat. It’s not every day her husband is saved from dying and her family reunited.’ Danilov looked into his wife’s eyes and stroked the back of her hand. ‘As ever, my wife is far more eloquent than I could ever be, Strachan.’
‘If you put it like that, sir.’
‘I do.’
‘I’d love to join you.’
98
As soon as they arrived back at their apartment, Maria began to check her ingredients with Elina, while Ivan wandered through the apartment, picking up books, listening to the dial tone of the telephone and playing with the handle of the phonograph.
Strachan went over to show him how the machine worked. It was another of Elina’s modern additions to the apartment.
Maria looked up from her cooking, ‘It’s Ivan’s first home. He feels lost, more used to the forest.’
A wave of guilt washed over Danilov. It had been all his fault that his son, daughter and wife had spent the last six years separated from him.
Never again. They would remain together for ever. Tears began to form in his eyes. His family was together, at last.
Together.
Ivan went over to a box lying next to the new couch. ‘What’s this, Father?’
Danilov shook his head.
Elina looked up. ‘That came from Dr Fang last night. It’s notes or something.’
‘Strange. Dr Fang never sends anything to my home. I’m surprised he even knows my address.’
‘Shall I open it, Father.’ Without waiting for an answer, Ivan began to tear at the brown paper wrapping the box.
The sound of ripping paper took Danilov back to earlier that evening, when he stood on the platform with a rope around his neck, not knowing whether he was going to live or die. What was it Allen had said?
Ivan had the paper off and was using his strength to tear apart the top cover of the box.
Hadn’t they talked about his daughter? Danilov struggled to remember the conversation. He had asked Allen to spare Elina if he killed himself. What had Allen replied? She would be taken care of.That was it. What did he mean?
Ivan was reaching into the box know, pulling out something round and heavy.
It wasn’t a file
It wasn’t from Dr Fang.
Danilov jumped forward, shouting, ‘Ivan, don’t…’
As he did, the room vanished in a flash of white light. All the air was sucked in and then blown out. Danilov was thrown backwards against the far wall, crashing into the telephone and its small table.
He saw his wife and daughter thrown back against the wall of the kitchen, pots and pans flying everywhere.
A wave of noise blasted over him. His ears begin to ring. His head felt like it was crushed. Everything went black.
He opened his eyes.
He didn’t know how long he lay there, his body shunted into the corner. Dust everywhere, slowly settling.
He slowly scrambled to his feet, using a leg from a broken chair as support. The air was still full of dust and dirt and smoke. To his left, he could see Strachan on his knees, blood pouring from a cut over his eye, retching on to the floor. Next to him, Elina had her arm around her mother, shouting something again and again.
Danilov shook his head, his ears still ringing from the blast. Elina’s voice became louder. His wife was answering now in broken Russian, blood dripping from her ear.
Where was Ivan?
He took one step forward. Through the falling dust and debris, he saw the body of his son lying on the floor next to the sofa.
He wasn’t moving.
Danilov ran to his son, cradling his inert body in his arms. The head fell backwards, and the eyes opened. But they saw nothing.
He released a howl of anguish, pulling the body of his dead son into his own, and rocking back and forth as the dirt and dust settled on the floor of his apartment.
Ivan, what have I done to you?
Also by M J Lee
Inspector Danilov Crime Thriller Series
Death in Shanghai
City of Shadows
The Murder Game
First published in the United Kingdom in 2017 by HQ Digital, HarperCollins
This edition published in the United Kingdom in 2018 by
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
57 Shepherds Lane
Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU
United Kingdom
Copyright © M J Lee, 2017
The moral right of M J Lee to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781788630771
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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