by Alex Shaw
It was good to see his friend again but he had to move things on.
Michael sensed Snow had become serious. “So what’s all this about Brian?”
“He called me this morning asking for help, I got here to find he’s being held by the police for sexual assault.”
“Brian? Sexual assault? GBH – grievous beer harm I could envisage but sexual assault?” Jones’ Welsh intonation rose at the end.
“Only that’s not all.” Snow explained the visit to the Militia station.
“So where is he?”
Snow shrugged. “They won’t say just that he is the custody of an officer named Budt.”
“It’s the bandits from Donetsk, mark my words.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“Yesterday. We started off in the Dockers Pub – you know the new name for ‘The Cowboy Bar’ and then onto Arena.”
“And nothing happened?”
Jones shook his head. “Mitch was with us but he went home with a tart from his office. Inna ordered me to come home and the last I saw of Brian he was getting into a taxi.”
“What time was this?”
Jones frowned. “Dunno, maybe three-ish? You know how it is.”
Snow nodded. In his day the drinking sessions usually ended in the small hours. “Is Mitch around.”
“No, he flew back to the US this morning to see his kids and ex-wife.”
Snow felt his stomach rumble and stole a fry from Jones’ tray. “None of this makes sense.”
“Correction, none of it would make sense in the UK. Here it makes perfect sense, someone is after a ‘Vziatka’.”
“A bribe?” Something clicked in Snow’s mind and things became a little clearer.
“For sure. Look at the time I got stopped without my passport back in the days when you needed a visa. Even though I had a photocopy on me they wanted $100. The next day they came to the flat and saw Inna. She told them to piss off because she knew their boss.”
“I hope you’re right Michael. But we still have to find out where he is.” Snow felt his Blackberry vibrate. He retrieved it from his pocket and looked at the number displayed. It was Brian’s flat. “Katya?”
“Aidan, the Militia came back – I pretended not to be in. They were banging the door.”
“I’m on my way.”
Her voice almost broke as she asked. “Is Brian with you?”
“No. I’m sorry, I’ll explain when I see you.” He ended the call and looked at Jones. “Gotta go.”
Snow stood at the side of the road and stretched his arm out. A beat-up Volkswagen saloon immediately swung in from the early evening traffic and came to an abrupt stop in front of him. As was the custom and common practice, it wasn’t a taxi just a Kyivite taking the chance to make bit extra. Snow gave the driver the address and in return the driver stated an inflated price. Snow was in no mood to haggle, agreed the price instantly and jumped in. Twenty minutes later he was once more outside Webb’s building; he called Katya again and let her know that he was on his way up. Two minutes after that she opened the door and ushered him in.
“Are you Ok?” He asked.
She nodded and looked over his shoulder expectantly. “Where’s Brian?”
“I don’t know. The Militia have moved him. Let’s get inside.”
She shut the door and bolted it. “Where is my husband?”
“I don’t know. They wouldn’t say but my friend at the Embassy has threatened to make an official complaint if Brian is not released or charged by Monday.”
Katya folded her arms, and prepared herself for the worst. “What are they going to charge him with?”
“Let’s sit down first.”
“Bollocks, Aidan just tell me. Please.”
“Sexual assault.”
Katya backed away into the kitchen and raised her hand to her mouth, stifling a laugh. Snow couldn’t tell if it was nerves or if she actually found it funny. “He can barely assault me.”
“Tell me what happened here, with the Militia?”
“The same two officers came back. They rang the bell and when I didn’t answer said they knew I was in. They then banged on the door for a few minutes and said that I couldn’t help Brian if I didn’t let them in. Aidan I thought they were going to break the door down.”
“I doubt that they would have done that. You did the right thing.”
“Are you hungry?”
Snow was but didn’t want to make her cook. “If you’re going to eat then I will.”
“Stop being so bloody English.” Katya pointed at a chair. “Sit. Eat. And take your shoes off.”
Snow looked down, first at his trainers and then at a bowl of Borsch that had been awaiting his arrival. “Thanks and sorry.”
She sat opposite him and held her hands together tightly. “Aidan I’m scared.”
“Katya, I think I know why they have Brian, well sort of.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
“Well we both know that Brian wouldn’t sexually assault anyone so what are they holding him for? A bribe. Think about it. He’s got his own company, Ok he lives here but I know he’s worth a bit. Or at least he used to be.”
“What’s wrong with my flat?”
“It’s very nice.”
“Aidan I know it’s shit so don’t try and put spaghetti on my ears.” She pushed a plastic pot towards him. “Smetana?”
“Thanks.” Snow ladled the sour cream into his soup. “So someone has been watching and has decided that Brian needs to pay to operate here.”
“Then they have chosen the wrong person. Brian has never once paid for a Krisha, and he won’t start now.”
Snow ate his soup and thought in silence. The Krisha Katya referred to was the ‘roof’ the protection offered by one mafia gang against attacks or threats by others and in some cases the Militia and tax police. “Well this is the most logical answer, unless of course it’s a misunderstanding or a case of mistaken identity.”
“Or he’s guilty.” Katya managed a smile. “Which he’s not. So what can we do now?”
“We have until Monday for official channels to do anything but I think that we’ll be contacted before that with a demand.”
Katya frowned and shook her head. “Doesn’t this mean he’s been kidnapped?”
Snow hadn’t thought about it like that. “That’s one way of looking at it.” He finished his borsch and pushed the plate away.
“More?”
“No, I’m full.”
Katya stood, collected her cigarettes and moved onto the balcony. Snow washed his plate and spoon in the sink then joined her. The view of the city was quite something and worth more than the flat it’self. It was one of only a few flats in the complex that still retained an unobstructed sightline to the river and the distant city beyond. As the summer evening gently lost its light the air seemed to glow with both the heat of the day and the myriad of windows.
“Screw me.”
“What?”
“Aidan, I want you to screw me.” She reached for his belt.
“Katya stop.” He placed his hands over hers.
“Don’t you want to?”
“How can I answer that?”
“Don’t you fancy me?”
“Of course I do, I always have.”
“But?”
“You are the wife of one of my closest friends.”
“Just because I want to have sex with you does not mean that I don’t love Brian. And besides he’ll never know.”
“But I will.” He looked into her eyes, she raised her eyebrow suggestively. “No. I’m sorry and believe me I’m regretting turning you down already.”
“You really are a Knight in Shining armour coming to the rescue?”
“Yes and my lance is staying locked up.”
She laughed and pulled her hands away. “Tart.”
“What?”
“I have some tart, would you like some?” Before Snow could ans
wer the doorbell rang and then there was the sound of heavy banging. “It’s them.”
“OK talk to them through the peep-hole, I’ll stand by your side. Then we’ll decide what to do. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
They moved towards the front door as the ringing and banging continued, now joined by the sound of; “Militia open the door”.
“What do you want?” Katya asked.
“Open the door. We have some questions that you need to answer. It will help your husband.” It was Oliver Hardy. “You surely don’t want us to conduct our business on the doorstep? Do you want your neighbours to know what you husband had done?”
Snow touched Katya’s arm. “Let them in. I’ll wait behind the door in the kitchen. I’ll be ready if you need me.”
“But Aidan they may hurt me.”
“If they do I’ll kill them.”
Katya looked at Snow and saw on his face an expression she hadn’t seen before. “OK.”
Outside the officer shouted again. “Come one now Madam Webb, let us in so we can discuss the criminal activity of your husband.”
She took a deep breath and opened the door. “Come in.”
Oliver Hardy leered at her and walked directly into the lounge whilst Stan Laurel removed his cap and smiled weakly. They both sat on the settee. Katya remained standing, arms folded.
“What kind of hospitality is this? You have not offered us a drink!” The older officer barked. Katya could tell he’d been drinking. Snow could hear it in his voice too and knew it would make him volatile but slow. “Even your homosexual American friend who was here earlier offered me tea.”
“He was English and he has manners.”
“I am sure. So officer Brovchenko explain to Madam Webb here the situation.”
Stan Laurel swallowed hard and readied himself. “We received a report from a young lady who stated that your husband made unwarranted sexual advances to her last night. When she told him to stop he attempted to…” Brovchenko started to blush.
“Go on.” Goaded Hardy.
“Your husband grabbed the woman and tried to have sex with her against a wall.”
Katya burst out laughing. “With his bad knee? My husband is very overweight and almost fifty six. Let me tell you that his days of athletic fucking are long gone!”
“I think you should watch your language.”
“And I think you should bring my husband to me and stop being a disgrace to your uniform! And another thing, try speaking Ukrainian both of you!”
Hardy fought to restrain himself. “Enough. You will listen to officer Brovchenko or things will only get worse!”
“Please go ahead, I like fairy tales.”
Brovchenko frowned. Things were not going as planned. “There is no doubt from the evidence that your husband is guilty and he would be found as such by any judge. But there may be something we can do, to help.”
From his hiding place Snow was praying that Katya would not provoke them anymore. All she really had to do was to listen. And that gave snow an idea. He switched on the audio record function on his Blackberry, carefully reached around the kitchen door and placed it on the floor in the lounge.
Brovchenko looked at his colleague. “Officer Klyuyvets shall I…?”
Klyuyvets held up his hand. “What my young friend is attempting to say is that the lady, the innocent victim of your husband’s unprovoked attack is willing to drop all charges, withdraw her sworn statement for financial compensation. You understand she is a student from a good family and any publicity, while she is blameless would tarnish her reputation.”
“How much?” Katya asked.
“I believe that she would accept $75,000.”
“And what guarantee do I have that this goes no further?”
Klyuyvets put his hand to his heart in mock surprise. “My word, our word officer Brovchenko and I.”
“And if we pay $80,000 can my husband fuck her?”
Snow sighed. Katya was playing with fire.
Klyuyvets pulled himself to his feet. “Do you think this is some kind of a joke? This is a serious matter.”
“It would be best for your husband and his business interests if you were to pay.” Added Brovchenko.
There was a ringing. Snow cursed silently. It was his Blackberry. Katya moved to collect it.
“Is someone else here?” Klyuyvets snapped.
Snow decided the time for playing hide and seek was over and stepped into the lounge.
“You again.”
“I think you should tell Mrs Webb where her husband is before I force it out of you.”
Klyuyvets almost fell over. “He speaks Russian and insults two officers of the law!”
Snow took a step forward. “Where is Brian Webb?”
“Hold out your hands, I will cuff you and take you to him. You are under arrest for attempting to assault two Militia officers.”
Brovchenko started to unclip his cuffs. “Please give me your wrists.”
“Because your own are limp?”
Brovchenko frowned the true meaning of the idiom did not translate from English to Russian. “No, I need to put handcuffs on you.”
Without warning Klyuyvets lunged at Snow, swinging his arm. Snow adjusted his stance and stepped aside. The fat man’s face contorted with rage and he reached for his baton. Without hesitation Snow grabbed the officer’s arm turned his wrist and using a pressure hold pinned him to the floor. Klyuyvets grunted and struggled. Brovchenko gawped and then reached for his pistol. Snow sprang up and with one hand pushed the trigger arm sideways whilst the other landed a punch on his jaw. The thin officer stumbled backwards and then collapsed. His head hit the floor with a heavy thud rendering him unconscious. Snow turned the older man was now on his knees.
“You piece of shit!” Klyuyvets swung his baton at Snow, who stepped out of the way and kicked the officer in the head which snapped back rendering him too unconscious.
“Aidan, what have you done?” Katya put her hands on her head.
He ignored Katya’s question and checked both men were still breathing and that their skulls were not fractured before cuffing them with own cuffs. “At least we now know what they wanted. Check their ID.”
Still in a mild state of shock she did as she was told. “Ah, that’s why they refused to speak Ukrainian.” She pointed to a driving licence. “They are from Donetsk.”
“Makes sense, new faces come in and want their share of the ‘cake’.”
Katya nodded and started to rant. “Since that goat became president he’s been replacing everyone with his own people. My friend’s an estate agent and she says that most of the companies renovating flats are from the East, especially the Donbas region. On the roads there are more and more cars with number plates starting with ‘AN’ – Donetsk and can you believe this even the supermarkets are using Eastern Ukrainian suppliers! The country is going down the toilet!”
Snow knew all of this, but did not interrupt her, she needed to talk, to vent - it would help lessen her shock. Most of Russian speaking population of Ukraine wanted closer ties with Russian now that their man had become President and the last vestige of the Orange Revolution had been swept away. ‘Party’ men from the East had come to the capital and started what was at first called a ‘quiet coup’. Now however more and more noise was being made as they continued to gain control of public and private bodies.
Katya continued. “That’s why we are going to move. I’ve been offered a job in London. My bank’s re-launching its Eastern European venture capital unit. They want me to be part of the team dealing with Ukraine and Russia.”
“So you’ll be speaking Russian and dealing with the ‘Bandits from Donetsk’.”
“Oh shit.” Her focus turned again to the two recumbent officers. “Oh shit Aidan, what have you done?”
“I saw red, I hate bullies.” Snow realised he had made a mistake but it had felt good to slap the two men silly.
“But they’ll be missed
, we’ll get arrested!”
Snow looked at his phone. “Maybe not, we’ve got some leverage. Tell me about your neighbours?”
“But why…”
“Please.”
She frowned. “That side,” she pointed to the left, “is owned by an old woman. She never speaks to me. She’s half deaf, keeps herself to herself.”
“So she probably wouldn’t have heard anything.”
“And the flat across from us is owned by an alcoholic.”
“A fiend of Brian’s?”
“Ha ha. No. He’s very loud when he’s pissed.”
“So we can assume that if anyone did hear anything they may think it was the bloke across the hall?”
“Ok, I get it. But what happens when the Militia come looking for them?”
“Hopefully we won’t need to keep hold of them for that long.”
“Aidan, I don’t like any of this. This is my home and now I’ve got two bound up policemen in the middle of my lounge.”
“Then we’ll move them.”
“Great. Where to?”
“The bathroom.”
“I thought you meant somewhere else? Somewhere outside.”
“Can you get me your ironing board, duck-tape and any spare belts of Brian’s?”
Katya cast him an odd look. “Have you been reading Fifty Shades of Grey?”
“Just do it.”
Whilst Katya moved into the bedroom to look for belts, Snow dragged the diminutive Officer Brovchenko into the bathroom where he removed the man’s shoes. Katya showed him where the ironing board was and Snow placed it under the still comatose officer. The man’s shackled arms were behind him and underneath the board. Katya handed him two belts. Snow nodded in approval. Made for a man with a huge waist they easily went around the thin officer twice and secured him to the board. Katya looked on none the wiser whilst Snow searched the bathroom.
“Is this your face cloth?” He asked her.
“Yes but it needs to be washed.”
“All the better. Katya. I need you to go and sit in the lounge and keep watch over ‘Mr Angry’.”
“What are you going to do?”