myself consoling you.
A little stiff perhaps but Leo meant it sincerely. It was met with silence. Leo considered his next words carefully.
– I’ve never experienced the grief that follows the loss of a child. I don’t know how it would make me react. Perhaps I would feel the need to blame someone, someone I could hate. But, with a clear head, I can assure you that the cause of Arkady’s death is not in dispute. I have brought with me the report, which I can leave with you if you wish. In addition to this I’ve been sent to answer any questions you might have.
– Arkady was murdered. We want your help in investigating, if not you personally then we would like the MGB to place pressure on the procurator to open a criminal case.
Leo nodded, trying to maintain an air of reconciliation. It was the worst possible beginning to their discussion. The father was adamant: their position entrenched. He was demanding the formal opening of an ugolovnoye delo, a criminal case, without which the militia wouldn’t investigate. He was calling for the impossible. Leo stared at the men from work. They realized, whereas the others did not, that this word- murder -tarnished everyone in the room.
– Arkady was caught by a passing train. His death was an accident, a terrible accident.
– Then why was he naked? Why was his mouth stuffed with dirt?
Leo tried to fathom what had just been said. The boy was naked? That was the first he’d heard of it. He opened the report.
The boy was found clothed.
Now that he read the line again it struck him as an odd stipulation. But there it was: the boy was clothed. He continued to scan the document:
Having been dragged along the ground his mouth contained dirt.
He closed the report. The room was waiting.
– Your boy was found fully clothed. Yes, there was dirt in his mouth. But his body was dragged by the train; some dirt in his mouth is to be expected.
An elderly woman stood up. Although stooped by age, her eyes were sharp.
– That is not what we were told.
– It’s very unfortunate, but you’ve been misinformed.
The woman pressed ahead. Evidently she was a significant power behind this speculation.
– The man who found the body-Taras Kuprin-was scavenging. He lives two streets away. He told us Arkady was naked, you hear? Not wearing a single item of clothing. A collision with a train doesn’t undress a boy.
– This man, Kuprin, did indeed find the body. His statement is in this report. He claims the body was found on the tracks, fully clothed. He’s quite clear about that. His words are here in black and white.
– Why did he tell us differently?
– Maybe he was confused. I don’t know. But I have this man’s signature on his statement and his statement is in the report. I doubt he would say anything differently if I asked him now.
– Have you seen the boy’s body?
Her question took Leo by surprise.
– I’m not investigating this incident: that is not my job. But even if it were, there’s nothing to investigate. This is a terrible accident. I’m here to speak to you, to make things clear when they’ve been unnecessarily confused. I can read you the entire report aloud if you like.
The elderly woman spoke again.
– That report is a lie.
Everyone tensed. Leo remained silent, struggling to stay calm. They had to realize that there was no compromise. They had to concede, they had to accept that their little boy died an unfortunate death. Leo was here for their benefit. He turned to Fyodor, waiting for him to correct this woman.
Fyodor stepped forward.
– Leo, we have new evidence, evidence which has come to light today. A woman who lives in an apartment looking out over the tracks saw Arkady with a man. We don’t know any more than that. This woman is not a friend of ours. We’ve never met her before. She heard about the murder-
– Fyodor…
– She heard about my son’s death. And if what we’ve been told is true, she can describe this man. She’d be able to recognize him.
– Where is this woman?
– We’re waiting for her now.
– She’s coming here? I’d be interested in hearing what she has to say.
Leo was offered a chair. He waved it away. He’d stand.
No one spoke, everyone waiting for the knock on the door. Leo regretted not taking that chair. Almost an hour passed, in silence, before a faint knock was heard. Fyodor opened the door, introducing himself and showing the woman in. She was perhaps thirty years old: a kind face, large, nervous eyes. Startled at all the people, Fyodor tried to comfort her.
– These are my friends and family. There’s no need to be alarmed.
But she wasn’t listening. She was staring at Leo.
– My name is Leo Stepanovich. I’m an MGB officer. I’m in charge. What is your name?
Leo took out his pad, finding a fresh page. The woman didn’t reply. He glanced up. She still hadn’t said anything. Leo was about to repeat the question when she finally spoke.
– Galina Shaporina.
Her voice was a whisper.
– And what did you see?
– I saw…
She looked about the room, then at the floor, then back at Leo, relapsing into silence. Fyodor prompted her, tension evident in his voice:
– You saw a man?
– Yes, a man.
Fyodor, standing right beside her, his eyes drilling into her, sighed with relief. She continued:
– A man, a worker perhaps, on the railway-I saw him through my window. It was very dark.
Leo tapped his pad with his pencil.
– You saw him with a young boy?
– No, there was no boy.
Fyodor’s mouth dropped, his words rushed out.
– But we were told you saw a man holding my little boy’s hand.
– No, no, no-there was no boy. He was holding a bag, I think-a bag full of tools. Yes, that was it. He was working on the tracks, repairing them perhaps. I didn’t see very much, a glimpse, that’s all. I shouldn’t really be here. I’m very sorry your son died.
Leo shut his pad.
– Thank you.
– Will there be any further questions?
Before Leo could answer, Fyodor took the woman by the arm.
– You saw a man.
The woman pulled her arm free. She looked about the room, at all the eyes on her. She turned to Leo.
– Will you need to visit me at a later date?
– No. You can go.
Galina dropped her face to the floor, hurrying to the front door. But before she reached it the elderly woman called out:
– You lose your nerve so easily?
Fyodor approached the elderly woman.
– Please, sit down.
She nodded, neither disgusted nor approving.
– Arkady was your son.
