The Pavilion Man

  “So they’ve paid you already.”

  “That’s the best thing; they moved very fast with the payment. We can enjoy the money right away.”

  “I hope it all turns out for you, Frederick,” said Alena, as she went towards the front door.

  “Look on the bright side, Alena, they could offer you a deal to sell up.”

  “I don’t think I want to sell to anyone; I’m enjoying running the boutique,” said Alena, as she headed out of the front door.

  As the weeks went by Alena would hear about more shops on the street being bought by Sergei and another wealthy Russian he was in partnership with, but no one knew his name.

  She would record every bit of information she heard about the sale of the businesses. They were mostly small shops selling bespoke items with a uniquely British style such as hat shops, a tie shop, handmade plates and cups, as well as Jake & Sons. Every night she went home she would provide Mikhail with information about the shops.

  Mikhail had by now got into a routine, during the days he spent time watching videos and listening to tapes of Igor’s life. At night he would photocopy all the receipts so that Alena could return the originals the next morning to her boutique so as not to arouse any suspicions from Sergei and the security man at the shop who watched everything that she did. Every midnight Mikhail crossed the road to the cottage in the Pavilion Park to feed his old friend the fox and meet Ron to give him video recordings and to update him on what they had found out that day.

  One such meeting at midnight, Ron arrived in a good mood and announced, “We’re making a lot of progress from these,” said Ron as Mikhail handed him another batch of recordings, receipts and notes.

  “I am glad it is useful to you. Alena is working very hard.”

  “Come on, you deserve a break yourself. Let’s get out of here for a while,” said Ron.

  “Where are we going?”

  “For a bite to eat,” said Ron. He led Mikhail into a black London taxi parked a street away from the Pavilion Park and drove them around the streets of London.

  “All these years I’ve in London I have never been in a black taxi,” said Mikhail.

  “Well this is your chance. We're going on a tour,” said Ron. They drove past Oxford Street, where Mikhail slept on the pavements in a doorway when he was first homeless. Then they went on to Park Lane towards Hyde Park Corner, along Constitution Hill to Buckingham Palace. Throughout the tour, Mikhail remained silent in the back of the taxi. Finally, Ron stopped at Russell Square parking outside a small green wooden cabin at 4am in the morning.

  “Now for the best breakfast in town,” Ron announced to Mikhail. They got out of the taxi and went into the cabin.

  The cabin had long tables in the middle with equally long benches at either side. At the far end, a woman was cooking on a small stove. No one else was in the cabin apart from the three of them. They sat down on the bench nearest to the door of the cabin. On the tables were small condiments of brown sauce, mustard, tomato sauce and salt, pepper and sugar. The day’s newspapers already out, neatly piled on the table.

  “I enjoyed seeing London tonight, Ron,” said Mikhail as they sat down.

  “I was glad to show you. Good, we are the first for breakfast.”

  “What is this place?” asked Mikhail.

  “It’s for taxi drivers to stop off and get a bite to eat,” replied Ron. “You’ve got to try a special breakfast.”

  “No, only a drink.’

  “You sure? You’re missing out the best full English around.”

  “What is Full English?” asked Mikhail.

  “You’ll soon find out. Mary, just one plate of full English and two cups of tea please,” said Ron.

  “It will be with you soon, dear,” replied Mary frying at the far end of the cabin on the stove.

  Within moments she put a plate with two eggs, two rashers of bacon, one sausage, baked beans, fried bread and tomatoes in front of Ron.

  “Ah Mary, you’re the best,” said Ron.

  “I’ll fill up your mugs for tea now, come and get it, dear,” said Mary as Ron followed her to the far end of the cabin and brought back the mugs of tea.

  “You come here often for full English?” asked Mikhail.

  “Not as often as I’d like. It was my regular stop when I was a taxi driver,” said Ron. Mikhail watched him pile the baked beans on his fried bread, followed by the eggs, and then poured the tomato sauce on everything on the plate and ate it in quick succession.

  “Now that was tasty,” said Ron, as he finished his breakfast with a mug of tea.

  “This place, is it for your agency?” asked Mikhail suspecting there was more to this cabin.

  “You know better than to ask these questions. I must say the information from you is first class,” said Ron.

  “It is as I thought. Sergei is up to his criminal activities, buying a legitimate business to money launder,” said Mikhail.

  “We are moving fast to stop this.”

  “If you don’t, it will get out of control as it has in Russia and before long they will go after any business no matter how small,” said Mikhail.

  “Sasha is dead. Last night he jumped off a bridge. The police found a suicide note at his penthouse apartment overlooking the Thames asking his parents and fiancée to forgive him,” said Ron.

  “You believe Sasha killed himself? Sergei murdered him for his property.”

  “If only it were that simple. I’m afraid Sasha owed a lot of money to some very nasty people in both Russia and Europe. Most of his contacts were made through Igor.

  “There are a lot of questions about Igor I still need answers,” said Mikhail.

  “Yes, we need to know. He applied for political asylum after he spoke out against corruption.”

  “Igor fights corruption, so why was he associated with Sergei and Viktor?”

  “That’s what we need to find out, when and why they got involved together,” replied Ron.

  “Ron, what about my daughter?” asked Mikhail.

  “Sorry, Red Fox, it’s a bit slow, but our contacts in Russia are trying to speed up, but you know how things are over there,” said Ron taking his empty plate and the mugs to Mary as the cabin began to fill up with taxi drivers.

  Ron dropped Mikhail at Alena’s house. He waited until she had had breakfast before telling her about Sasha’s suicide, her reaction surprised him. She burst into tears and screamed so loudly at the news that he feared she would faint from all the crying. He put his arms around until she calmed down.

  Still tearful she said, “I can’t believe it, not Sasha, why did he do it, oh why.”

  “Maybe you need to get away. Why don’t you go and spend time with your mother?”

  “My stepmother and I don’t get on. I want to stay here and get to the bottom of all this,” said Alena.

  “You are strong.”

  “I’ve only just turned eighteen; I don’t want to hear of any more deaths of people I love.”

  “You loved Sasha?”

  “No, I mean yes; he was more like a brother to me, and now he’s gone.”

  “I don’t want you to have any more sadness.”

  “You won’t leave me, will you, Jack?” said Alena.

  “No, I’ll be here as long as you need me to be,” said Mikhail.

  A week after she heard of Sasha’s death, Alena seemed more determined. Checking her father’s bank account from her home computer, she saw vast amounts of money transferred from various international banks. She gave everything she had found to Mikhail each night. Ron would take Mikhail for their nightly taxi tours, each time discovering a different part of the city and ending up eating a full English breakfast in the early hours of the morning at taxi cabins dotted around London.

  “I now enjoy this full English,” Mikhail announced to Ron as he took another mouthful of fried bread and sausages smothered in brown sauce.

  “So I see, you’ll soon become British,” said Ron.

  “
No, I stay Russian. Alena has been learning how to cook Russian food to make me feel at home.”

  “You still want to go back to Russia?”

  “Yes, I love your country; it brings me peace but I want to see St Petersburg again and my daughter.”

  “You may get your wish to go back sooner than you think. Now we can track where all the money is going there will soon be arrests,” said Ron.

  “I want to see Sergei punished for the murder of my wife, Yelena,” said Mikhail.

  “We’ll do our best to find airtight evidence to put him away for a very long time.”

  “And when he comes out, I’ll be ready for him, but first I want to see my daughter before I die.”

  “We’re getting very close; you’ll soon see her, Red Fox,” Ron reassured him.

  When Mikhail walked away from the taxi after Ron dropped him off, his mind was full of the words he would say to his daughter when they met. Getting near Alena’s door, he saw a Mercedes parked outside with Sergei’s security guard standing near the parked car. Mikhail began to sway to the side and as if he was drunk as he passed Alena’s door. The security watched as Mikhail, with his head down, stumbled away from the house.

  Chapter 16

  Alena was not quite awake when she opened to a loud knock at her door. Standing before her was Sergei. It was early on a Sunday morning, her weekend off from the boutique, and she wanted to have a lie-in at least until noon that day.

  In her pyjamas and yawing, she said, “Oh it’s you, Uncle. Is there anything wrong?”

  “No, I was passing, and my wife wanted me to give you her homemade soup,” said Sergei with two soup containers in a big yellow Selfridge’s bag.

  “That’s kind of her; please thank her,” replied Alena.

  “And I have this for you,” said, Sergei handing her a bunch of purple and white roses.

  “These are lovely; just what I need to brighten my day. Thank you,” said Alena. Wanting him to leave so she could go back to bed, she kept glancing at the clock in the hallway every few seconds hoping he would get the hint.

  “I also want to ask you about the man who runs the Pavilion Park,” asked Sergei edging his way into the hallway.

  “Why do you ask me, Uncle?”

  “I thought you might know as he’s been your waiter and taken you to the Russian Ball.”

  “Yes he has helped me, but I think he’s on holiday now.” Alena was hoping Mikhail wasn’t going to come upstairs while Sergei was there.

  “Do you know who pays him as I want to find out when he is back so I can book an event at the Park.”

  “But, Uncle, you forget I told you the other day that I’ll be happy to sort any event out for you."

  “There is another thing I came to tell you.”

  “What?"

  "It’s time for you to visit Russia,” said Sergei. He was now inside the house and making his way along the hallway into the sitting room where they had held the memorial.

  “Russia? Why?” said Alena following behind him.

  “To see your relatives,” Sergei said, looking around as if searching for someone.

  “What relatives in Russia? You know I don’t have anyone. Papa was an orphan, and I don’t know anything about my mother’s family."

  “I found a distant relative your father and my business associates in Russia want you to meet.”

  “Go to Russia? I didn’t expect that,” said Alena.

  “I am impressed with how you run the boutique, Alena. I want you to have a holiday so I’ve got you a ticket. You go in a few days,” replied Sergei. He went in the bag with the soup containers and pulled out a white envelope and handed it to Alena.

  Opening the envelope, Alena looked at a first class ticket to Russia.

  "Thank you, but why is this a one-way ticket?"

  “I want to give you time to be with your relatives. I will get you a return ticket when you are ready to come back.”

  “Who will run the shop while I am away?”

  “Don’t worry about that. I have somebody to run it for you.”

  “It seems you have thought of everything.”

  “For your father, I’ll do anything. Igor, he is still alive for both of us,” said Sergei. He went towards Alena to kiss her on the cheek, but she pulled back and held out her hand instead. He took her hand and kissed it. Alena smiled her sweetest smile as he made his way out to the front door.

  Mikhail came back to the house soon after seeing Sergei leave with his security man in his car. He went into the kitchen and saw Alena pouring two containers of soup into a pan.

  “Thank goodness you were not here; we just had a visit from Sergei. I think he suspects something about you,” said Alena covering the soup pan with a lid.

  “I saw him leave in the car. Have you cooked already?”

  “Not likely this early. Sergei’s wife made me this soup; I thought you might like it as I’m allergic to beetroot.” Mikhail went over to the stove, opened the lid and sighed as he smelt the vegetable soup.

  “This reminds me of home. Borscht soup is good with sour cream,” he said.

  “Well, you can have it all. I’m going to spend the day with Carol. I won’t be back tonight.”

  “It’s good you’re going to see your friend. What did Sergei want?”

  “Would you believe he wants me to go to Russia?” Alena took out the envelope with the ticket to show him.

  “Why does he want you to go?”

  “To meet my long lost relatives and his business associates.”

  “You can’t go. Sergei will find a way to stop you coming back. They’ll steal your business and this house.”

  “He’s already arranged to put someone in the shop while I’m away. And he keeps asking where you are.”

  “Sergei knows something. I’ll contact Ron. Go and stay with your friend for a few days. We’ll call you back when it’s safe,” said Mikhail.

  “But aren’t you in danger as well?”

  “Don’t worry about me. I have four eyes.”

  “Four eyes? What do you mean?”

  “Any good intelligence officer is taught to have two eyes at the back and two in the front.”

  “Then I’ve grown four eyes as well with all I’ve learnt from you,” said Alena. She went upstairs to pack a small bag.

  Mikhail picked up the phone in the office to call Ron to tell him about Sergei’s visit to Alena’s house.

  “Yes, it’s a good idea to let her go away for a few days. We’ve just seen CCTV images of Sergei Bogdanov and another man with Sasha on the bridge just before he died,” said Ron.

  “I knew Sergei murdered Sasha all along,” replied Mikhail.

  “We will make an arrest soon; I’ll see you later tonight at the cottage,” said Ron.

  Just as he put down the phone to Ron, Alena came into the office holding a small bag ready to make her way to spend time with her friend.

  “Well, that’s it. Hope I’ve packed enough. How long do you think I should stay away for?” Mikhail, suddenly lost for words, stood looking at her and said nothing. The way she said it brought back memories of Yelena all those years ago when they tried to escape from St Petersburg.

  “Jack, are you alright? You look like you’ve had a shock.”

  “Sorry, for a moment I lost my mind.”

  “Please don’t lose your mind. Anyway, here’s Carol’s number. Call me when you think I should come back.”

  “Yes, I will. Now I’ll call a taxi to take you.”

  “Thank you, Jack. You don’t know how much you’ve helped me,” said Alena.

  Chapter 17

  When Alena left, Mikhail decided to go back to the park taking with him a container with the borscht and sour cream from the stove. When he got back to the cottage, he warmed up the soup.

  Pouring the soup into a bowl he dropped in a spoon of sour cream. Every spoon full Mikhail took was a reminder of happier times.

  Finishing his soup Mikhail put some of the veg
etables from the soup into another bowl and took it out to feed the fox. As he stepped out of the cottage and put the bowl of soup down at the door, he saw two men coming towards him. One of them he recognised as Sergei and the other the security guard driver that was sitting outside Alena’s house.

  “Mikhail Andrei, at last we meet again,” said Sergei speaking to him in Russian.

  “And I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” replied Mikhail. The security guard moved towards him pushing Mikhail back inside the cottage. Sergei followed and closed the door.

  “So, this is where you’ve been hiding as Jack McFadden,” said Sergei as the three men stood inside the cottage facing each other.

  “You forced me out of Russia,” said Mikhail.

  “What have you done with Viktor?”

  “He’s dead. And you, Sergei, will pay for Yelena.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m going to put you out of your misery so you can join her,” said Sergei.

  “I knew it was you all the time.”

  “Since you are about to die, I will grant you the truth for old time’s sake.”

  “What is the truth?”

  “It’s about your big saviour Igor. I’ll grant you the last wish and tell you that Igor planned everything.”

  “You mean Igor did this?”

  “Igor was a clever man. He loved money and influence. He asked Viktor and me to destroy his apartments.”

  “But why? And why did you and involve me?”

  “To blame it on his competition, and as for you, Viktor the fool, he remembered how you saved him once from bullies in our organisation and thought you could do with the money with a new baby and business.”

  “Igor must have paid you a lot of money.”

  “I am a wealthy man now. I own a lot of businesses, including your blacksmith’s shop. It is a liquor store now that we use to export expensive vodka. You should have joined us.”

  “So everything about Igor was a lie,” said Mikhail.

  “Why did you go to him? It gave him the idea of how he could win people over and gain political power.”