Everyone on the dais, and everyone in the small throng of onlookers, was watching and clapping.
‘He has asked for you to say a few words,’ Ivanov whispered.
‘Apparently,’ Papineau responded, raising himself from the thoughts that had transported him far from this event. Thankfully he had assumed this was coming and had a general idea of the kind of boilerplate remarks the moment required. He rose, bowed slightly, motioned for Ivanov to accompany him, and stepped up to the microphone.
‘My friends,’ Papineau said as if he had been waiting to say it all his life, ‘this is a moment to remember, when people across continents and oceans meet with the understanding that to improve any one life is to improve all lives.’ He waited for Ivanov to translate, then he delivered his piece de resistance, in Russian: ‘To quote the great Chinese philosopher Confucius, “Every journey begins with a single step.” So let us take our first.’
Papineau smiled, waved, and stepped back to thunderous applause. He accepted the warm congratulations, handshakes, back and shoulder pats, even a hug or two as he made his way to what only he knew was the decoy train. It was three comfortable carriages with a classic green and red ChME3 locomotive.
Rail workers had decked out the engine’s railed walkways with banners and drapes to honor the occasion. The plan was to have Papineau and the dignitaries wave from the train as it left the station. Once away from the crowd, the dignitaries would return to their offices while Papineau and Ivanov would make their way into the carriages.
Although not luxurious by any means — a clear indication of this survey’s true place in the mind of the Russian government, despite the fanfare — the train included comfortable sleeping quarters, dining facilities, and a fully equipped video station so the survey team could keep a careful eye on the tracks — among other things.
‘I am very grateful you chose me to accompany you on this trip, Monsieur Papineau,’ Ivanov said as they made their way toward the train. ‘I have always wanted to make this journey to Uelen at the Bering Strait. The mountains and wilderness are said to be magnificent.’
‘Indeed,’ Papineau murmured, his mind not on the video team he had hastily hired, but on his other team. He got into an automatic rhythm of shaking the hands of the boisterous crowd with both of his: gripping their palms and shaking them up and down without stopping his passage. Therefore, he was slightly taken aback when he reached out toward a striking older man and an assured young woman.
Unlike the rest of the crowd, they offered no hands to shake.
The woman held up her police identification, and the man kept his hands folded in front of him. They wore full dress uniforms, befitting the occasion — the man in dark green with a peaked hat, and the woman in blue with a knee-length skirt, low high heels, and garrison cap.
Ivanov too was slightly surprised by their seemingly sudden appearance, but he responded by leaning down to study the proffered ID.
‘Sergeant Anna Rusinko,’ the translator said.
The older policeman looked up at him with a calming smile. ‘No need to translate, my friend,’ he said in Russian. Then he looked at Papineau. ‘I will be pleased to do it,’ he said in French. ‘My name is Viktor Borovsky, Colonel Viktor Borovsky. And this is Sergeant Anna Rusinko. We are with Special Branch, Main Office of the Interior for Transport and Special Transportation.’
‘Part of the Federal Migration Services Office,’ Papineau said.
Borovsky’s smile remained placid. ‘You have done your homework.’
‘No,’ Papineau replied. ‘I am educated.’ He resented the implication that he had boned up just to be here, like a politician on the stump.
‘My apologies,’ Borovsky said, apparently in earnest.
‘What can I do for you, Colonel? As you can see, I don’t have much time.’
‘You do not,’ he agreed with a touch of vagueness. ‘I’m sorry for this distraction, but we only learned of your impending departure a short while ago.’
They had, in fact, broken several traffic laws getting here after extensively questioning several very frightened veteran railway employees. Memories of the KGB had become part of the collective DNA here.
‘If it’s about permissions, they were cleared quite some time ago,’ Papineau said, beginning to shuffle toward the train. ‘You may check with the Minister of Transport as well as the Minister of Natural Resources and Environmental Protection.’
‘Of course, of course,’ Borovsky repeated soothingly. ‘It is not that at all. Here, allow us to walk you to the train. We can talk on the way.’
Papineau looked dubiously at the pair. In his mind, a colonel and sergeant suggested something other than ‘routine’, but he went along with it.
What else could he do?
38
Papineau and Borovsky set off side by side, with Anna just behind them. Ivanov trailed behind her, ready to translate anything if it became necessary.
The effect of their casual, new ‘police escort’ was immediate. The rest of the well-wishers parted for them like the Red Sea for Moses.
‘Be assured that we are not looking to delay your departure in any way,’ Borovsky said, giving the impression of two old friends on a leisurely stroll. ‘We are simply trying to locate a man named Andrei Dobrev.’
Borovsky let that statement hang in the air, carefully gauging the Frenchman’s reaction. Papineau didn’t display one … physically. But mentally, he was doing gymnastics.
‘Dobrev?’ he echoed, deciding that the more truth he could include, the better. ‘I seem to remember someone by that name at the inaugural reception.’
‘Do you? Did you take note of every name?’ Borovsky asked.
‘In fact, I did,’ Papineau said, buying time. ‘It is a habit.’
‘What other names do you recall?’
Papineau rattled off several, effortlessly. In his brain he was thanking Garcia: the IT man had been eavesdropping on the entire conversation, and with the time Papineau had bought, he had brought up the guest list and was reciting it into Papineau’s ear.
‘Impressive,’ Borovsky said. ‘Very, very impressive. Do you also remember what he looks like, then?’
Papineau smiled softly. ‘There, I’m not sure I could help you.’
Borovsky held his hand up to about Dobrev’s height. ‘Stocky, with a square-ish head, short gray hair standing straight up, probably wearing a tan suit?’
Papineau laughed quietly. ‘Colonel, that describes about a million Muscovites.’
Borovsky’s mild smile widened as if it was their inside joke. ‘Only a million? I’d say more than that. So, you didn’t talk to him then.’
Papineau stopped a few feet from the smoking locomotive as the other minor dignitaries made their way onto the walkways behind him. ‘Colonel, to be honest, I’m just not sure.’
‘Let me put it another way,’ Borovsky said. ‘He would have been the only one you may have spoken to who possessed an encyclopedic knowledge of the train system. I believe he is involved as a consultant.’
Papineau was stuck. It would seem odd if he had not been introduced to someone who was, in fact, a key member of the survey planning team.
‘The man who knew about the trains,’ Papineau said generally. ‘Yes, yes — I believe we exchanged a few words.’
‘A few cocktail party platitudes?’
‘Something like that,’ Papineau smiled. ‘You know how it is.’ He gestured at the crowd behind them. ‘You’ve seen how it is.’
‘Indeed,’ Borovsky assured him. ‘Well, that was all I wished to know.’
Papineau looked at the woman. He knew she would probably say nothing, having deferred to her superior, but he wanted to give the appearance of cooperating.
‘You, Sergeant? Is there anything you’d like to ask?’
