The Hunters

She seemed surprised by the attention. ‘Not at present.’

‘When, then?’ Papineau joked. ‘At the Bering Strait?’

Borovsky stared at him. ‘If need be, yes. We will be there.’

The laughter stopped, and Papineau no longer felt like joking.

This man was not only a veteran; he was hard-core.

Borovsky clicked his heels together — actually clicked his heels, his own salute to an apparently worthy opponent in something that clearly was not finished — and put his arm out, giving his grateful permission for Papineau to join the others on the front of the engine. The Frenchman noted that Sergeant Rusinko did not look at all happy about her own performance.

Papineau took two steps up the platform before he turned and looked back. ‘Colonel?’

The officer was still standing there, watching. ‘Sir?’

‘We’ll have real-time video journals posted on our survey website,’ he shouted over the growing noise of the train engine. ‘You can text me anytime.’

‘I am not comfortable with that technology,’ he replied.

Papineau smiled. The colonel had let down his guard for an instant and allowed the Frenchman to know he was strictly old school. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Borovsky nodded his head, surrendering that point. He waved expansively and stepped back to where Anna was waiting for him.

‘Sir, is that it?’ she said, confused. ‘Let me go aboard. I can get off at-’

‘No, Sergeant,’ he said. ‘There is no need.’

He waved and smiled until the train began to leave the station amid the cheering crowd. Borovsky remained in place long after the last of the well-wishers ran past him, cheering.

‘Colonel,’ she said, ‘forgive me, but I am mystified. They were never introduced at the reception. We have seen the video.’

‘Exactly.’

She stood straight up, gaining at least two inches. ‘Sir?’

‘The Frenchman does not speak Russian. Dobrev does not speak English. They could not have chatted about anything. He lied — but why?’

Anna considered this and failed to reach any conclusions.

‘Mr Papineau had a translator at the reception,’ Borovsky said. ‘She spoke at length to Dobrev. She had to have told Mr Papineau about him.’

‘Yes,’ Anna said, still trying to get ahead of her superior.

‘She and Mr Papineau were on somewhat familiar terms, laughing, talking, conferring,’ Borovsky went on.

‘Again, true-’

Borovsky shrugged. ‘She has not left the country. Why, then, was someone so trusted and apparently close to him not here, translating? And what about the other members of his staff — those with whom his interpreter occasionally interacted at the party? Where are they? Not one of them was here for the start of the survey.’

Understanding came quickly. ‘They are somewhere else.’

‘Exactly,’ he said with a smile. ‘Come. We must find them.’

39

Anna Rusinko was angry.

Some of that anger was because of Borovsky, who had run this operation by not sharing key tactics and information with his partner. Yes, she was a subordinate, but she was here to support a goal that was larger than themselves: finding a killer. He could have told her what he was planning to do, that he apparently suspected — or simply sensed — a larger plot.

But she was angrier at herself.

No, not angry, she decided as they weaved through traffic. She was frustrated that she had not been thinking the way he had been thinking. She had always done police work by starting small and working out. This man obviously worked the other way, throwing out a big net and seeing what he dragged ashore. Then he sifted through the fish and debris.

‘Do you play chess, sir?’ she asked.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I already sit too much. I prefer darts, among other hobbies.’

‘Darts?’ she said, surprised. ‘To relax, or is there some kind of competition?’

‘Purely to relax,’ he said as he stared out the passenger window. ‘The brain gets a much-needed rest when you perform a task that is purely a hand-eye challenge.’

‘It is a tiny bull’s-eye, Colonel,’ she laughed.

‘Oh, I rarely aim for that. If you go for the same spot all the time you fall into a rhythm. You never want to do that in anything. No, I select different bands, different colors, different numbers so I have to keep adjusting.’ He nodded with satisfaction. ‘It’s a good life lesson.’

Anna felt a little foolish for having offered a statement about the bull’s-eye instead of asking questions.

It’s okay, she told herself. That’s a good life lesson, too.

They rode in silence until they reached their destination. The Pushkin State Museum of Fine Arts was across the street from the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour. Its golden dome towered over the Moskva River.

‘A nice balance,’ she commented.

‘What do you mean?’ Borovsky said.

‘Well, sir, one building is full of human outpouring, the other a house of solace.’

He laughed. ‘Sergeant, those descriptions could apply to either one equally.’

‘I know that, sir.’ She grinned as she pulled to the curb.

He looked at her with admiration. ‘Well done.’

Now it was his turn to play catch-up.

They stepped out in unison, but Borovsky waited before moving toward the museum. Anna followed his eyes and sensed a bit of the patriotic pride he must have been feeling when taking in its exterior. It looked like a temple to culture on a high podium.

Borovsky glanced over to see her staring, and tapped her upper arm with the back of his hand. When she looked over, he pointed and said, ‘Copied from the Erechtheion on the Acropolis. Ionic colonnade. Finished in 1912. Just in time for World War One, and everything that followed. Originally called the Alexander the Third Museum, then the State Museum of Fine Art. Our great poet Alexander Pushkin died five years later, and they added his name.’

The colonel pointed left and then right. ‘Three buildings. Two atrium courtyards. Glass roof lets the sunlight in.’

‘It’s impressive. I’m ashamed I haven’t visited before now.’

He shrugged, and they started walking toward the steps. ‘Who has time in this modern age, what with gangs, the black market, the mafia, and a four-year-old daughter?’

Anna stopped in place, but she caught up to Borovsky, who kept on walking, near the museum’s magnificent entrance.

He glanced at her. ‘Do you really think I would ask you to assist me without checking your records?’

‘No, sir,’ she fibbed. That meant he knew about her marriage and divorce as well. She felt both naked and protected at the same time, exposed to his scrutiny but allowed into his circle.

‘Alma was one of the reasons I asked for you,’ he explained. ‘You were eminently qualified, of course, but so are many persons of your rank and station. The younger generation is the main hope of Russia’s future. I want someone who has a reason to preserve that future and work to make it better.’

Anna was once again surprised by this man. Her heart swelled. Here was a real patriot, not one who used platitudes to control others.