“Ah you mean her stepmother; we’re also investigating her. Igor’s wife in Switzerland is his second wife and not Alena’s mother, so we found out,” said Ron.
“Alena did not say this,” said Mikhail.
“She must have been very young when Igor married his second wife.”
“His first wife died in childbirth.”
“Igor had a complex life. I need to know why he associated with Sergei and Viktor. I think they blackmail him. They are expert at that.”
“We’ve been suspicious of how Maxim Property Services changed hands so many times in such a short period, and now we have this,” said Ron, as he flicked through the documents.
“Sasha owned it last before they put Alena’s name on it.”
“Igor was Sasha’s mentor. We need to get into the Mayfair offices. Do you think Alena can help us?”
“I’ll ask her. Have you any more news about my daughter?”
“Yes, shortly after you left Russia, your mother died of natural causes, and your daughter Marina went into an orphanage. We are looking into where.”
“I can’t wait for the day I see my daughter.”
“We’ll get you a happy ending, Red Fox.”
“Now Viktor is gone it’s left with Sergei.”
“We need to get Viktor’s body out of here. And sort out further training for that recruit,” said Ron.
“Tomorrow I’ll ask Alena to let me stay in the house. If you are right, Sergei knows about me.”
“Well, I’ll give you protection until the morning in case you get another visit tonight,” replied Ron.
Viktor’s body was removed from the Pavilion Park cottage before daylight. Early the next morning Mikhail went to Alena and told her what had happened. Without hesitation, she agreed that he could use the butler's room in the house for as long as he wanted. She gave him a tour around the house before leaving for work.
Each room was kept immaculately, decorated in a luxurious style as expected of the wealthy, it was tastefully done in creams, white, gold and light brown coffee colours with expensive handmade furniture, some chairs and cushions covered in elaborately designed fabric. There was a lot of gold and marble similar to the kind of ostentation Mikhail had seen only once before when he visited Igor’s country house in Russia all those years ago.
“So this is how the oligarchs live in this country,” said Mikhail.
“Please don’t use that word oligarch. Papa was not one of them. It has been said of him many times, but he was an honest, hard-working man who made a great success of his life I see nothing wrong with that.”
“I can see for a man from a humble background he wanted to enjoy the best of life.”
“Yes, he did.” She led him upstairs and stood looking at a door. “This room is Papa's bedroom, everything is as it was the day he died. I don't go in; only the cleaner goes in once a week," said Alena as they stood at the door.
“Can we go in?” Mikhail asked.
“I would prefer we don’t,” said Alena.
“Was Igor alone in the house when he died?” asked Mikhail.
“No, his butler and two of his bodyguards were with him in the house. I’ve known them since I was a child. They all keep in touch with me except one.”
“It seems your father had loyal workers.”
“They loved him and would do anything for him. I wish you had known Papa,” replied Alena.
“The little I know of him, you are right.”
“Poor Papa, I wish he was here now.”
Mikhail, not wishing to upset her further, said in a matter-of-fact way, “Where did Igor keep the recordings of conversations?”
“In the storeroom; would you like to listen to his tapes?” said Alena.
"Yes, it will help," said Mikhail.
Alena led Mikhail into a storage room in the basement. It was full of shelves of videos, cassettes, and CDs on the shelves labelled with the dates, some going back over twenty years. It was a plain room compared to the rest of the house. There was a large television and one chair and no windows.
“Your father kept a lot of recordings,” said Mikhail looking at the shelves.
“Yes, he documented so much of his life in these tapes. But there is a lot here from our surveillance cameras,” said Alena.
“Do you mind if I look at them, it may have a clue to his death?” asked Mikhail.
“Be my guest since you can’t go out for a while.”
When Alena had gone to work, Mikhail went into Igor’s bedroom and opened his wardrobe. He looked inside the clothes hanging up and saw they were all handmade suits and shirts with the IZ monogram. Going into the bathroom where Igor died, he found it was spotlessly clean, towels neatly folded and bath oils put out. Nothing was out of place; everything laid out as if ready for Igor to return at any moment.
Mikhail spent the rest of the day in the basement looking through the videotapes. Each video he played showed him a different aspect of Igor’s life and some parts of his own. There were recordings of parties at the house with Igor enjoying himself, many meetings in his study with business associates. There were a lot with Alena from the age of ten up until her eighteenth birthday party. Mikhail saw a tape of his younger self at the television station in Moscow when he gave that fatal interview that destroyed his life. He still had many more tapes to look at when Alena arrived home.
“Did you see Sergei today?” asked Mikhail.
“No, I thought he would come to pick up the documents first thing. He is still sending women to purchase expensive gowns.”
“He must be busy with other criminal things.”
“Did you find anything useful in the videos?”
“I see your father loved you dearly. There are a lot of videos of you two together.”
“It’s been mostly him and me. Papa recorded everything because he was orphaned at the age of eight so keeping memories were important to him," said Alena.
"Can I pass on some of the videos for others to check for me as it will it take too long to get through them all.”
“That fine, they can look at them as long as I get it all back.”
“I’d like to see what we can find at the Mayfair office,” said Mikhail.
“We can go now if you like,” said Alena.
"Yes, I would like that. I want to know more about your father's life."
Chapter 14
When they arrived at the entrance to the Mayfair office building and walked through the glass-fronted doors, Mikhail took a deep breath as he entered. It was a building he had never forgotten, one that he went to many times when he first arrived in England all those years ago. Standing behind Alena as she went towards the reception to the security guard, Mikhail stood looking around. The décor had changed, it was sleek and modern, and the reception desk he desperately gave his letter for Johnny Murray now had a security guard sitting behind it.
“Hello, Fred, I’m just popping up to leave some documents,” said Alena as she approached the security man. He turned his gaze to directly looking at Mikhail.
“Sorry to hear about your father, Miss Alena. Will you and the gentleman sign in,” asked the security.
“Thank you, Fred. There’s no need for us to sign in is there as it's only the three of us in this building and we’re not going to be long,” said Alena.
“If that’s what you want, Miss Alena. That’s fine.”
When they reached the fifteenth floor of the building, Mikhail watched as Alena pressed her right palm on an entry panel on the wall near the double glass doors. As she did so the doors opened automatically into a large office with windows surrounding three sides. Mikhail went towards the window to admire the prime view of the London skyline.
“This building, who owns it?” he asked.
“It’s all Papa’s. He was in partnership with Johnny Murray, but when he died Papa got full ownership, so I guess I own these offices now.”
“I see,” said Mikhail looking around at the office.
“Where does your father keep his documents?”
“It’s all kept in the computer. Papa was always scared someone would break into this office, so he shredded all important papers quickly.”
“Are you able to get the information on the computer for me?” asked Mikhail.
“Not everything. I only know the password to one of his bank accounts because I saw it when I looked over his shoulder one day.”
“You know his account details? That is good; can we get into it now?”
“Yes if it would help.”
“It would help greatly.”
“OK I’ll do it,” said Alena as she turned on the computer at the desk and went into one of her father’s bank accounts. Mikhail saw that she had a concerned look in her eyes.
“What is wrong?”
“How is that possible? This account has transactions going in and out in the last week.”
“What type of transactions?”
“Some are small things in shops, grocery, oh and a few meals at restaurants.” Alena scrolled up and down the bank statement with her face transfixed to the computer screen.
“Where are the transactions from?” asked Mikhail.
“Let me see; it looks like from Russia. It goes back to the day after Papa's funeral.” Alena was looking paler each time as she scrolled up and down the bank statements on the computer screen.
“Somebody’s using your father’s account as if he were still alive.”
“Yes, but who? It can’t be my stepmother. He kept her ignorant of his business dealings, I don't think she is in Russia, and there is no way she knows how to get into his bank account,” said Alena.
Suddenly they heard the lift door and two men speaking in Russian coming towards the office. Alena rushed out of her seat went towards the door. When the voices got clearer, they heard it was Sergei's voice.
“Uncle Sergei, I was not expecting you,” Alena said out loud as the doors opened. Mikhail quickly hid under the large oak desk, bending his knees tightly so his legs did not stick out.
“And what are you doing here, Alena?” asked Sergei, standing with the security man from her shop.
“I felt like coming to Papa's office. But how did you get in here, Uncle? This is not your office.”
“I have worked from this office for a while now. Igor and I we had business dealings and I need to clear up.”
“I didn’t know this,” said Alena, as she went to sit at the desk.
“No, you know nothing about this business. Why is the computer on? What were you doing?”
“I was going to order something to eat before you came in,” said Alena, turning off the computer quickly.
“Have you signed the documents I gave you?”
“Yes they are back at the house. I was going to contact you to pick them up this evening.”
“I’ll come and pick it up tomorrow from the shop, but now I have to kick you out as I have work to do.”
“I’ll leave but only one condition, Uncle.”
“And what is that?”
“Can you take me to Hakkasan restaurant to eat? I am hungry because I get little chance to eat anything at the shop with all those women you send,” said Alena.
“OK, I do it for you. After that I’ll drop you home and pick up the documents.”
“Yes, thank you that will be perfect.”
“There’s one thing I need to ask you, Alena,” said Sergei, as they headed out of the door followed by the security guard.
“Go ahead.”
“The waiter serving at your father’s memorial, he’s the same man that looks after the Pavilion Park, do you know where he is?”
“Ah yes, the waiter. I have not seen him for a while. Why do you ask?”
“He’s good at his job. I wanted to get permission to hold an event at the park.”
“No need to ask him. The residents own the park. I can allow you to hold a party there.”
“So I have your permission to use the park?”
“Yes, of course you can use the park, Uncle. Now, I’m getting hungry; let’s go and eat,” said Alena as they left.
Mikhail waited until he could no longer hear them. Stretching his legs from under the desk, he was relieved, the pain in his legs was a reminder of the bad times when he was homeless and slept in uncomfortable positions in shop doorways.
After standing up, he made his way to the door to find his way out of the office. But the doors were locked; he tried putting his hand on the security scanner at the door. It did not open the doors.
Desperate, he looked all around to find a way out, but there seemed to be none. His old skills of breaking in were obsolete on the fifteenth floor of an office building.
Picking up the phone and pressing the button labelled ‘reception’ there was no answer. Finally, he stood looking through the double doors hoping Alena would come back. Within moments he saw it open and someone dashing to one side, and saw the security guard come out of the lift. Mikhail banged on the door and shouted to get his attention.
“Please, let me out.” The security guard put his hand on the scanner and opened the door.
“I thought you had gone with Miss Alena,” said the guard.
“I was in the bathroom when they left; they must have forgotten that I don’t have a hand scan. I called reception, but no one answered,” said Mikhail.
“Sorry, sir, I was doing my rounds, this is my last floor to check," said the security guard letting Mikhail out of the office.
“Thank you for rescuing me. Please don’t mention that you let me out. I don’t want to embarrass anyone,” said Mikhail.
“No, sir, but I do need to take you downstairs in the lift, or you won’t be able to get out without the lift security number,” said the guard.
“Thank you,” said Mikhail. As he left, he smiled to himself; how things changed, before they wouldn’t let him into the Mayfair office building now he almost couldn’t get out of it.
“Have a nice evening’s, sir,” said the security guard as he let Mikhail out of the front door.
Alena rushed into the house, picked up the property documents she’d signed for Sergei and took them back to him in the waiting car. When she got back into the house she saw the light on in the kitchen. Walking into the kitchen, she was surprised to see Mikhail was at the table drinking coffee.
“How did you get out of the office? I was so worried. I was going to go back for you.”
“With a bit of charm,” said Mikhail.
“By charm do mean with Fred?” asked Alena.
“Yes, where there’s a human there is always a way,” said Mikhail.
“I suppose, but how did you get back into this house without a key?”
“I use to be a blacksmith; I have ways.”
“A craftsman and a spy, now that’s a combination. I know little about you, Jack. Like how a Russian named Jack came to spy for British intelligence.”
“I have not seen my daughter for a long time and they are helping me find her.”
“Why did you ask me to get her a birthday present if you don't know where she is?"
“I know they will find Marina; I wanted to get her a gift for all the birthdays I missed." Mikhail did not want Alena to work out that the real reason was to find some way of getting into her house for information to pass onto Ron.
“It seems we have both lost someone we love. I hope you find Marina.”
“Yes, I want that to happen.”
“I would like to meet her.”
“I hope you can be friends with her.”
“If she is anything like you, Jack, I know we will be.”
Chapter 15
Alena arrived at her Carnaby Street boutique to find that Jake & Sons, a small bespoke tailor shop, a few doors down from her which made uniquely British custom-made shirts and suits for men had a sign in their window.
Jake and Sons family have decided move on to pastures new.
The new owners have kindly agreed to cont
inue trading with our name and promised to provide the kind of service you have all been accustomed to from us.
Thank you to all our customers past and present for your support in our family business over the last 100 years.’
Shocked to see the sign in the window that they were selling up, Alena immediately went into the shop to talk to one of the great-grandsons of Jake & Sons.
“Fredrick, I’ve just seen your sign, I can’t believe you are selling up,” said Alena.
“It will be hard to leave, but we had no choice but to sell.”
“Has your business not been going well?”
“No, quite the contrary, we have a full list of clients on our waiting list with many abroad.”
“I’ve known this shop since I was eleven years old. My father always said he got the best fitting here.”
“Yes, he was one of our best customers. We have been making custom-made shirts and suits for him with his initials from the time he lived in Russia all those years ago.”
“So why sell now if you are doing so well?”
“We couldn’t refuse the silly amount of money the new owner offered us.”
“Who are the new owners?”
“I thought you would know, Alena. It is a wealthy Russian. I’ve seen him visiting you at your boutique, Sergei Bogdanov. And we are very grateful to your father for introducing us to many of our Russian customers.”
“Uncle Sergei owns your business?” said Alena sounding astounded by what she was hearing.
“Yes, we are not the only shop he is buying on the street. Others are also selling up.”
“You mean they will run all these different businesses on this street?” asked Alena.
“No, not exactly. Mr Bogdanov wants the existing business to stay the same.”
“I see, so no one needs to know ownership has changed hands.”
“Yes, they didn’t even want us to announce that it was no longer in family hands but we’ve been on this street so long we felt it was the right thing to do.”
“And you feel it is worth it?”
“Oh yes, my dear, I’ve got the money. I will be coming in once a week to oversee things and train new management for a while which is a great deal for me.”
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