By comparison with Soviet times, the officers who arrived this night were relatively polite. They explained there had been a complaint from the World Health Organisation regarding the handling of a consignment of drugs bound for Africa under the terms of a government tender, and that Dr Walter Mukooyo had requested Anatoly Vladimirovich Dimitriov be brought in for questioning. They didn’t search the apartment, although they did demand the keys to the factory. And despite his calm reaction to their arrival, they insisted on pulling Anton’s hands behind his back and snapping on handcuffs.
Earlier, it had been agreed that Dr Mukooyo should not be present in the apartment when the arrest was made as that would only muddy the waters and raise suspicions within the police force. Everyone else was there and everyone offered to accompany Anton to the police station. However, he declined, saying he was sure it was all a mistake and he’d be home soon.
“Mama, please ring Sasha Rostoff, and ask him to meet me at the station as soon as possible,” he said before calmly leaving with the two officers. There was no need for this call to be made, as Anton had spent most of the evening talking to Sasha and he, in fact, was hiding in the bedroom while his client was being arrested. No sooner had the police car driven away, than Sasha reappeared.
“Cheer up, ladies,” he said, giving Mama D a hug and chucking Lydia under the chin. “We’ll have him home again in no time at all.” Then he pulled on his jacket and headed down to the car park under the apartment block.
Francine stood and walked over to Mama D and Lydia.
“Come on, ladies,” she said. “Despite what Sasha and Anton have told us, it’s going to be a while. Let’s see if we can get some rest.” She led the two of them into their room and talked to them quietly until they dropped off to sleep. Then she returned to the lounge where the Jones sisters were still sitting. Suzanne was nodding and trying to keep her eyes open, while Charlie had curled up on the sofa and was snoring gently.
“Right, you two,” Francine said. “We should all get to bed. I doubt if Anton will be home much before morning.”
At that moment, the phone rang. It was Walter, from his hotel room, checking everything had gone well.
“You’re absolutely sure we’ve done the right thing?” he asked Francine, not for the first time that day.
“Completely sure,” she assured him. “Besides, it was Anton’s idea, not ours. And he knows the system much better than we do. I’m sure it will all be fine.” As she finished the call, she glanced across at Charlie. Suzanne had already disappeared, heading for bed, but the elder Jones sister was standing in the middle of the room, staring at her phone. The colour had drained out of her face and she was biting her lip. “Charlie, what on earth’s the matter?” Francine asked.
Charlie gave a start and pushed her phone into her back pocket.
“Nothing,” she said. “Just checking a message from Annie. Everything’s fine.” She gave a little wave and headed for the door. “See you in the morning, Francine. Give us a shout as soon as you hear anything.”
But she still looked white as the snow on a Russian winter morning. And somehow, Francine didn’t believe for one moment that a normal message from Annie would cause a reaction like that. Something was definitely not right.
Chapter 38
“You cannot be serious!” Suzanne stared at Charlie with undisguised horror. “That woman tried to kill you! And you’re talking about going to meet her?”
The email had arrived in Charlie’s inbox in the middle of Anton’s arrest and she’d not spotted it until she was about to go to bed. In fact, she’d almost missed it in her usual quick review and deletion of the spam cluttering up her account each day. But at the last minute, she’d spotted the subject line: MGH Wants To Meet English Rose. Rose was the name she assumed from time to time on undercover operations. The last time she’d used it was in Rio three years before while on the trail of counterfeiter Michael Hawkins, and she’d nearly been killed in the process. And MGH could only be Mercy Gove Hawkins. Sure enough, the email was an invitation to meet up to discuss our mutual obsession. Charlie hadn’t told Francine about it at once, as she wanted to think it through first. She’d waited until the three of them were alone after breakfast the next morning before breaking the news.
“Hang on,” said Francine, “I thought you told me she was dead!”
Charlie pulled a face.
“Well, we certainly thought she was. She disappeared over the side of the boat and though Hawkins and I searched the water and waited for what seemed like hours, there was no sign of her.”
“But then Charlie got a postcard,” chipped in Suzanne, “suggesting that maybe she’d survived somehow or other.”
“Although I was never convinced it was anything more than a hoax,” said Charlie. “I was fairly sure it was Hawkins taunting me in some way. But I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
And no matter what Suzanne and Francine said to try to dissuade her, Charlie knew this was an appointment she had to keep. She just had to find out what had happened to Hawkins’ enigmatic Mozambican daughter. And deep down, she knew there was a connection between the two of them. A connection that, in other circumstances, could have blossomed into so much more.
“Right,” said Francine when it became obvious nothing they said was going to change Charlie’s mind, “if you are going to meet her, it needs to be on our terms and on our territory. Invite her here for coffee.”
Charlie exchanged a startled look with her sister.
“Here, Francine? Are you sure? Anton’s not going to like that. And what about Mama D and Lydia?”
“You let me worry about Anton. And let’s face it, he’s got other things on his mind at the moment. And the others are going to be out for most of the day anyway. They’ve gone to see the exhibition put on by Lydia’s art class. And then Mama D’s taking her out for lunch. I’ve promised I’ll ring them as soon as we have any news. Mama D didn’t really want to go, but she needed something to take Lydia’s mind off Anton’s arrest.” She stood up and nodded her head at Charlie. “Get on that phone of yours and get that woman over here now.”
Mercy was looking good. Charlie had forgotten just how striking she was. And she was reassured to note from the line of the tight leather trousers and jacket that she certainly didn’t seem to be carrying a weapon.
“Sit down, Mercy,” Charlie said, steeling herself to ignore the warm flush spreading through her at the sight of her old friend turned adversary. “I have to say I was surprised to hear you were still alive. We searched a long time for you in the water that night.”
“But what would’ve been the point of getting back on board?” asked Mercy with a slow grin. “I’d revealed too much. Both you and my father,” she spat the words out, “saw me as an enemy. All my advantage had gone.” She shook her head. “No, much better to disappear; let you both think I was dead. And then find another way to bring down Michael Hawkins.”
“And me?”
“Oh, Charlie, querida, you were never meant to be part of the plan.” Mercy pulled a rueful face. “At least not in the way it turned out. I really did want you to join forces with me. We could have been so good together.” As Charlie opened her mouth to object, Mercy held up a hand. “No, you don’t need to say anything. I know you have plans, other loyalties. I’ve moved on.” She paused. “Although we do need to talk about the safety of your Annie and the future at some point.”
Charlie’s stomach plummeted.
“Annie; what do you know about Annie? I won’t have anything done…”
“It’s not me you need to be worried about, Charlie,” the other woman said. “But it’s a long story, so how about you give Suzanne and Francine a call? I take it they’re hiding in the other room? Get the coffee on and we can talk.”
“How do you know I’m not alone here?” Charlie asked. But Mercy just grinned at her and started counting off on her fingers.
“Last night, seven people gathered here for sup
per: Anton, his mother and sister, you, your sister, Francine and Anton’s lawyer. Anton left in handcuffs with those nice polite policemen around eleven-thirty. His lawyer followed soon afterwards. His mother and sister left here a couple of hours ago and Lydia called “see you this evening” over her shoulder as she went. No-one else has left the apartment, so the other two must be around somewhere.”
Charlie shuddered as she realised just how much Mercy knew about the comings and goings of her and her friends. She reminded herself once more it would be a mistake to let her guard slip or to underestimate this woman in any way.
Chapter 39
Francine made coffee as Mercy had suggested, while Suzanne sat awkwardly in the lounge with Charlie and their visitor. Charlie sat hunched over in an armchair, chewing her thumb. Only Mercy seemed completely relaxed, strolling around the room, looking out of the window and admiring the view.
It was the first time Suzanne had met Mercy and she was eager to find out more about this mysterious woman who seemed to have bewitched her sister back in São Paulo. And she knew Francine was just as curious.
“What have you been doing with yourself since you disappeared in Rio?” Suzanne asked.
“Oh, you know,” was the enigmatic reply, accompanied by a wave of the hand, “this and that.”
“It’s a long way from Brazil to Russia.”
“Yes, isn’t it?”
Oh dear, thought Suzanne, this is getting is us nowhere.
Francine returned with the coffee, poured out four cups, and then seated herself at the dining table with her back to the window. As Suzanne gazed at her, she found it difficult to focus, as light streamed in through the glass. Picking the most powerful seat in the room was an old trick she remembered from the days when her career was just starting, and office politics still mattered. These days she rarely bothered with that sort of thing, but guessed Francine wanted to establish her position with Mercy from the outset.
“Right, lady,” said Francine, her hostess manner fading instantly into icy politician. Suzanne remembered that look so well from the day they were first reunited, back in 2004, when she’d charged into the other woman’s office in the Palace of Westminster and accused her of running a counterfeit drug operation. They’d come such a long way since that day. “Now suppose you tell us exactly what’s been going on and why you’ve been spying on me and my friends.”
Mercy stared at Francine for a long moment and Suzanne held her breath, wondering if their visitor would turn on her heel and walk out. But instead, she nodded slowly to herself and turned to Charlie with a grin.
“She’s alright, this friend of yours, isn’t she? I can see why she made the male Members of Parliament quake.”
She picked up her coffee, took a sip, then put it down and seated herself at the dining table opposite Francine. Suzanne had the distinct impression there was a war of wills going on here that neither she nor Charlie was involved in.
“Okay,” said Mercy, “enough small talk. Let’s get down to business. I’ve been here in Russia for a couple of years now. I hung around in Brazil for a while after you guys left. Neat move at the sports field by the way. Although I didn’t really want my father—” her face twisted at the words “—to spend the rest of his miserable life in a cushy British jail. I was delighted when I heard he’d managed to get out of that one. God bless Brazilian and British trade deals.”
“And did you see Hawkins after he was released?” asked Francine.
“I was getting all set up to have another go at making him pay for what he did to my mother, when he did another disappearing act. And, you have to hand it to him, it was done very slickly. He never even returned to São Paulo, although I guess he must have been in contact with Max at some point. The villa was shut up, and on the market. I even tried getting some information out of Max.” She grinned to herself and shook her head. “That was an interesting evening. Big guy. Took a lot to overpower him. Had to use a couple of very large friends for that. But he either didn’t know or was more scared of my father than he was of us. He wouldn’t say a word.”
“What did you do to him?” asked Suzanne.
Mercy looked at her in surprise. “We let him go, of course. What did you think we did? I may be a killer but I’m not a psychopath! There was nothing to be gained by killing Max and he’d been kind to me when I first arrived in Brazil.”
“But he might tell Hawkins you’re still alive…” said Francine.
Mercy shook her head.
“He didn’t see me; I stayed in the background. The guys said they wanted to get back some money owed to them.”
“Okay, so once you’d lost Hawkins’ trail; what then?” Charlie had snapped out of her stupor and was looking curiously at their visitor.
“Well, I’d lost my father, but I still had another target to go after.”
“Stefano Mladov?” said Suzanne.
Mercy nodded.
“Exactly. For years, I thought Stefano was my friend. He brought me over to Ukraine, treated me like a daughter, gave me an education; and taught me about his businesses. I even ran one of them for him. And all the time, he was in touch with Michael Hawkins. He lied to my face! When I learned that, on the boat in Rio, I swore I’d get revenge on Stefano too.”
“Yes, I remember,” said Charlie, nodding.
“I made my way back to Ukraine. I had to be careful. It’s not easy for a black woman to hide in this part of the world, and I knew Stefano’s network was spread quite widely. But I had a few allies left over from before. Allies I’d developed on my own. I managed to slip back into Kharkiv, only to find that once again, my quarry had escaped me. The Mladovs had sold up and moved.”
The other three women looked at each other in amazement.
“But, the factory’s still operating,” said Suzanne. “I know. I was there just a few days ago.”
“And Stefano still owns the company,” said Charlie. “It took some detective work to get through the paper trail, but I found him in the end.”
Mercy shook her head and laughed.
“Oh, yes, the Mladov business empire is still intact and mostly operating in Ukraine. But Stefano has moved the family into Russia.”
“Why on earth would he want to do that?” asked Francine.
“Well, ever since independence, the eastern region of Ukraine has been agitating to be part of Russia again. And there’s been sporadic fighting and troop movements along the border.” Francine nodded, as Mercy continued. “Remember, Stefano Mladov is an old man now. He was brought up under the Soviet regime and much prefers that sort of life. I guess he thought it was easier to move into Russia, rather than waiting for Russia to take over Ukraine once more.”
“So, where is he?”
“He’s down in the Kursk Oblast, on the south-eastern border, in a small town called Fatezh. It’s close enough for him to drive back to Kharkiv if he needs to, and large enough for him to keep out of view.
“And have you seen him there?”
“Oh yes, I’ve seen him. Only from a distance, so far, because he’s got pretty good security in place and I’ll only have one shot at getting to him. I’ve been watching him for a while now. And that’s when I struck lucky. Because one day, he had a visitor. None other than Tata dearest.”
“Hawkins? Michael Hawkins is here in Russia, too?” Charlie jumped to her feet. Suzanne and Francine didn’t say anything but exchanged a sharp glance before returning their attention to Mercy who was nodding vigorously.
“That’s right, ladies. Both Stefano Mladov and Michael Hawkins are living here in Russia, just a few hundred kilometres from where we stand!”
Chapter 40
“So why haven’t you made a move yet?” asked Francine. “Isn’t this the ideal opportunity to get rid of both of them at the same time?”
Suzanne shivered at the ice in her friend’s voice. This was the politician once more. Mercy was shaking her head.
“It’s too big an operation for me to bri
ng it off on my own. And I might be able to take one of them out, but two is going to be much harder.” She grinned and stretched lazily, like a cat in the sunshine. “I thought I’d stick around for a while, see what I could find out. Maybe there’d be a different way of tackling all of this.”
“And how did you find out about us being here?” asked Charlie.
“Well, that was a real piece of serendipity. I didn’t know you guys were here. I was actually watching my fellow African, your friend from Kenya.”
“Walter?” asked Suzanne.
“Dr Mukooyo?” echoed Francine.
Mercy nodded again.
“That’s right. I have a friend who works in the police force.” The three women looked sceptical at that and Mercy laughed. “Yes, really. Very useful things, police officers. And they make great sparring partners at the gym, too.” Her grin faded as she went on. “She told me about the krokodil problem and how the police were completely baffled. She told me they were bringing in some top guy from the World Health Organisation to try and give them a hand. So, I did a bit of surveillance of my own. You can imagine how surprised I was to see Charlie and Francine talking to him outside Petrovpharm that day.” She turned towards Charlie and raised an eyebrow. “Surprised and delighted, I might add.”
Suzanne stifled a smile as her sister flushed bright red and looked away. Then she realised what Mercy had just said.
“You know about the codeine phosphate tablets?” she asked.
“Of course, I do. Once I started watching Stefano’s movements and realised my father was here too, it was relatively straightforward to find out what was happening.”
Corruption! Page 14