So what's this all about, eh?'
She sat down on an imitation leather sofa that creaked like the sound of falling timber. Her dressing-gown slipped away to reveal a long white thigh but she made no move to cover herself. The girl knew that militiamen were easier to handle when they had something to distract their eyes. She shifted her bottom and let some more of the gown slide away until she was satisfied that they could see her flimsy underwear.
Are you Vaja's girlfriend?' Nikolai squatted down in front of a compact-disc player and began to amuse himself by pushing the automatic disc drawer in and out. Or just his business associate?'
Could be I'm his bloody astrologer,' she sneered. But what's it to you?'
Nikolai turned away from the disc player and looked with undisguised discrimination at the girl's crotch.
You should have been keeping a closer eye on his chart, sweetheart,' he said. Your Georgian friend's planetary aspect just took off for another galaxy.'
The girl frowned and, sensing that something was wrong, started to cover herself.
Look, is Vaja in trouble or something?' she said.
Not with us, he isn't,' said Sasha and went into the kitchen.
I'm afraid he's dead, love,' said Nikolai.
She let out a sigh and then crossed herself. Nikolai picked up a bottle of vodka from the drinks trolley and waved it in front of her face. The girl nodded. He poured one into a square-shaped tumbler and handed it to her.
In the kitchen Sasha found a short length of washing-line hanging above the sink. On it were pegged three condoms, washed and hung out to dry like odd socks. They were recognisably foreign, of a quality unattainable in their Russian counterparts colloquially known as galoshes and therefore worth the trouble of recycling. An expensive leather handbag lay open on the kitchen table. Sasha rummaged through it and found the girl's identity card. When he returned to the other room he handed it to Nikolai and looked quizzically at the girl.
Those rubbers in the kitchen,' he said. You on the game or something?'
Get stuffed,' she snarled, on the edge of tears.
Now, now,' said Nikolai, no need for that.' He glanced at the girl's ID. Galina Petrovna Zosimov,' he said. Galina. That's my mother's name.'
How would you know that?' said Galina.
Nikolai grinned patiently. Say what you like, if it makes you feel better,' he said.
She swallowed some more of her drink and stared back at him.
So what's the story?' she said.
The story? Well, Galina Petrovna, to tell the truth, we're not exactly sure. But the Zelenogorski Militia found him down in the woods early this morning. He'd been picnicking with some mean little teddy bears who tried to make him catch some bullets with his teeth. You know the kind of thing like maybe they thought he was an informer.' He paused for effect. That sort of behaviour is standard practice among a certain rougher section of our society.'
Galina tossed the rest of the vodka back.
That's the girl, said Nikolai. Takes the edge off the grief a bit, doesn't it?' She held up her glass and let Nikolai pour her another. He checked the label. It was good stuff, not the kind you needed to sprinkle pepper in to take care of the impurities. I'd join you myself, only I make a point of never drinking good vodka these days. I might acquire a taste for it again, and then my wife would have nothing to trade.'
He pulled up a stool and sat down opposite her, so close that he might have slipped her mule off and smothered her little foot with kisses.
So where was I? Ah yes, I was suggesting that Vaja might have been a pincher.'
Galina shook her head firmly. Leave it out. That wasn't his style at all. He was a lock, a top man.' She snorted contemptuously. I think you'd better point your cheap suits in some other direction.'
Someone thought he was pinching,' said Nikolai. The guy who shot him wasn't trying to drum up business for dentists, I'll tell you that much.
Did he have any enemies among the Georgians that you know about?' said Sasha.
Galina lit another cigarette. She took a hard drag with narrowed eyes and shook her head.
Maybe Vaja was giving it to one of his pals' wives,' Nikolai suggested. Well, you know what these Georgians are like. They're always chasing pussy. Or some old family feud maybe. Bad blood lasts a long time with these Georgian boys. How about it?'
No,' said Galina.
When was the last time you saw him?'
Last night.' She shrugged. Around seven. Just before I went out.'
Where did you go?' said Sasha.
Out. To meet a friend.' She swallowed some more of her drink and grimaced. I don't know why I'm drinking this. I don't even like vodka.' She put the glass down. There was a phone call from some guy he knew. Don't ask me his name because he didn't say. Whoever it was said he'd washed this fancy watch off some Jap tourist's arm and did Vaja want to buy it?'
And did he?'
Are you kidding? These Georgians are like magpies. They love the flashy stuff. Gold, diamonds, silver can't wear enough of it. Worse than Jews, so they are. Anyway, he arranged a meet.'
Did he say when, or where?'
Galina shook her head.
Sounds to me like he was this city's first fashion victim,' said Nikolai.
Galina grinned mockingly. Yeah, well, I can't ever see you making best-dressed detective of the year, Fatso. Vaja was a smart-looking guy.'
Not when I last saw him,' said Nikolai.
Did you ever hear him mention the name of Mikhail Milyukin at all?' Sasha asked quickly.
The journalist? The one that writes for Krokodifi Where does he fit in?'
He's not writing Vaja's obituary,' said Nikolai. He and Vaja caught the same flight north.'
Yeah? You don't say. That's too bad. I liked his stuff.'
How about Vaja?' said Sasha. Was he a fan?'
She gave him a look of pity.
Vaja? He was a nice guy, but he was no reader. Take a look around. The only magazines he liked were the ones for the home gynaecologist.'
And the rest of Rustaveli Avenue?' said Nikolai, referring to the main street in Tblisi, the capital of Georgia. Where can we find them?'
Usually you'll find the whole raspberry round the corner,' said Galina, jerking her head at the window. At the Pribaltskaya Hotel. In the afternoon they like to make muscles of themselves in the gym. And in the evening they get mumbling drunk in the restaurant.'
Nikolai stood up. That thief,' he said, the one that stole the watch. If you do remember the guy's name '
Sure,' said Galina, standing up beside him. She came halfway up his chest. I'll send you a carrier- pigeon.'
She followed them to the door and opened it.
Hey, promise me you'll catch the bastards who did it and I'll give you some really useful information.'
We'll catch them all right,' declared Sasha.
Do you promise?'
Promise.'
Take the stairs. And with that she kicked the door shut in their faces.
General Kornilov's office was through a double door at the end of the corridor. Although bigger than Grushko's office it was also gloomier, with only a small desk lamp to lighten the almost sepulchral darkness.
A smart fountain-pen in his bony hand, Kornilov sat behind a big leather-topped desk. Another desk had been set at right angles to Kornilov's, making a T shape, and it was here we seated ourselves while the general finished writing the memo in his best copperplate.
In his late fifties, Kornilov was a stern-looking figure with cold, fossilised eyes and a hard, expressionless face like some long-lost funerary mask of beaten bronze. Looking at him it was hard to believe Grushko's assertion that
