Despite his intuitive feeling about appearing on Zverkov's show, this was more than Grushko had bargained for. But he did his best to field the question.
If we are going to defeat the Mafia, it will have to be a joint effort,' he said coolly. The Russian people and the militia acting together. We can only secure convictions of Mafia figures if people are prepared to come forward and give evidence to '
What, are you saying that the militia can't do the job?' Zverkov smiled contemptuously.
No, that's not what I'm saying at all.'
But isn't it a fact that people within your own department believe that the Mafia is now so strong that any attempts to combat it are doomed to fail?'
It's true,' admitted Grushko, there are such people. But I'm not one of them. No, I feel more optimistic about the '
Well, we'll all sleep more safely in our beds tonight knowing that you feel more optimistic, Colonel Grushko. But what's that optimism based on? Georgian brandy?'
Now wait a minute ' growled the detective.
No, you wait a minute.' Zverkov was almost shouting now. You cops can't even stop the Mafia from stealing free food from the EEC.'
The particular crime I think you're referring to was committed in Kiev,' said Grushko. I don't see that you can hold this city's militia responsible for solving that. You want to find out what happens to the food aid that arrives in St Petersburg from the West, then I suggest you ask the city councillors. And you' Grushko reached forward to feel the leather of Zverkov's leather jacket I'm sure we'd all like to be able to afford a nice leather jacket like this. How much was it? Fifteen? Twenty thousand roubles? That's two or three years' salary to one of my men. And you've got the nerve to lecture me about '
That's not the point '
It is exactly the point,' said Grushko, his face growing redder by the second. It's exactly the point. If you and others like you weren't so hell-bent on getting your hands on Western clothes and goods, the Mafia wouldn't stand a chance. You can't condemn the militia for fighting a losing battle with the Mafia when you yourself shop with these criminals.'
So you admit you're losing the battle?'
I admit nothing of the sort.'
The argument continued in this vein for several more minutes until, unable to tolerate Zverkov's insults any longer, Grushko snatched the microphone from his tie and walked off the set and out of the television studios.
Later on, when Grushko watched the broadcast at home with his wife and mother-in-law, his anger quickly gave way to depression as he considered what General Kornilov would make of his performance.
Well,' he sighed, I walked straight into that one, didn't I?'
Grushko's wife Lena was more inclined to look on the bright side of things.
But you were right,' she said. What you said about the need for people and militia to act together if the Mafia is to be defeated.'
You lose your temper, you lose the argument,' opined Lena's mother.
Don't worry dear,' said Lena. Nobody likes that man these days. Not even mother. Do you mother?'
He looks like a churki,' said the old woman. Either that or a Yid. One of those homeless cosmopolitans.'
Mother,' said Lena smiling gently, you mustn't say such things.'
Grushko poured himself a glass of home-made whisky and sipped it gently. This was the smoothest stuff he had distilled so far, made from vegetables grown on the allotment he shared with a detective in the vice squad, and it had a deceptively sweet taste. He only wished he could have grown some maize to make a corn-based liquor, but the beetroot whisky and the cucumber wine now fermenting in bottles on top of the lavatory cistern were better than queuing for hours to buy vodka in the state shops when they had any. What vodka he did manage to buy he usually kept for trade. So Grushko sipped his whisky, confident that it wasn't the kind of stuff that included alcohol taken from glue or toothpaste, and counted himself lucky in that at least.
They heard the front door. It was Tanya, Grushko's daughter. She came quickly into the tiny sitting- room.
Have we missed it?' she said, looking at the television.
I wish I had,' said Grushko.
How was it?'
Your father lost his temper,' said Lena.
Tanya looked hardly surprised to hear this, any more than she was surprised to see the look of distaste on her father's face when Boris, her boyfriend, followed her into the room.
Boris,' said Lena warmly, how nice to see you.'
Grushko merely grunted. He made no secret of his dislike of Boris. It was not that he objected to the young man's manners or his appearance. Boris was as polite as he was well-dressed. He had a good job, too. As a broker on the St Petersburg Commodities and Raw Materials Exchange, buying and selling everything from ox-tongues to railway sleepers, Boris was making a lot of money. What bothered Grushko was the discovery that a seat on the Exchange that had once cost a staggering 50,000 roubles now cost an astronomical 6 million.
Just look what Boris gave me,' said Tanya slipping the stopper out of a bottle of Christian Dior perfume and holding it under her mother's nose.
Mmmm, that's lovely,' said Lena.
Grushko took his time sniffing the scent. A lot of what was sold as French or American perfume was no more the real thing than a bottle of his cucumber wine. But not this. He nodded appreciatively.
The real thing,' he said. Hard currency, was it, Boris? Must have cost a lot of money, anyway.'
Boris shrugged nervously. Tanya's father made him nervous. No,' he said, not that much really.'
You surprise me, Boris,' said Grushko. Tell me: how are things on the Exchange? Whose birthright were you selling today?'
Dad, please,' said Tanya.
Well, I can't complain.'
No, I wouldn't have thought you could, Boris. Oh yes, you'll be all right '
Lay off, will you, Dad?'
whatever happens to the rest of us.'
Yevgeni Ivanovich,' Lena said sternly, that's enough.'
The phone started to ring. Grushko had a shrewd idea who it was. For a moment he was tempted not to answer it, but then he realised that everyone wanted him to, if only to get him out of the room for a few minutes. He walked into the hallway.
Saved by the bell,' grinned Boris, and then glanced at his gold watch. Well, I guess I'd better be going.'
I'm sorry about Yevgeni,' Lena said. Georgi Zverkov gave him a hard time.'
So he takes it out on the rest of us,' said Tanya.
The telephone was by the front door and Tanya made a point of kissing Boris with an extra amount of passion before saying good-night, just for her father's benefit. Then she went into the bedroom she shared with her grandmother and closed the door without another word. Grushko replaced the receiver and returned to the sitting- room, where he drained his glass.
Yevgeni Ivanovich, what comes over you sometimes?'
I'm sorry, love,' he said. I can't bring myself to like the man. I can't get it out of my head that a seat on the Exchange costs 6 million roubles 6 million. Now where does he get that kind of money? Where does anyone get it?'
Lena glanced up at the little reproduction icon on the wall, as if the Madonna and Child might have provided her with an answer that could satisfy him. She was anxious that Grushko should like a man with Boris's good prospects.
Perhaps he borrowed it,' she suggested. From Gosbank.'
Maybe I should go in and see them myself,' he laughed, and poured himself another whisky.
Who was on the phone?'
General Kornilov. He just told me to report to his office first thing in the morning. Then he hung up.' Grushko swallowed half of the whisky in his glass. Which is probably what he means to do with me.
