‘Mr Moszynski came to the UK with substantial assets, which he has diversified through a number of holding and investment companies. He also set up several charitable and family trusts.’
‘I imagine it will be complicated.’
‘Oh yes.’
‘And his family will be relying on you to sort things out.’
‘In part. Ah, coffee.’
Renee had appeared with a tray. ‘The boys are stuck, Freddie,’ she said.
‘Oh damn. Could you excuse me a moment, Inspector?’ He rushed to the door while Renee struggled to find a place to set the tray down among the papers heaped over every surface.
Kathy said, ‘My boss’s desk looks a bit like that.’
‘Freddie is a genius,’ Renee replied stonily, defying her to deny it.
‘At tax minimisation?’ Kathy said.
‘At what he does.’
‘It sounds boring, but I don’t suppose it is, with clients like the Russians.’
Renee said nothing, seemingly not wanting to enter into a conversation, but also not wanting to leave Kathy alone in Clarke’s office. She began arranging papers into piles, then stopped and turned to Kathy. ‘I read about the letter in the paper this morning. That’s obviously the answer, isn’t it? Like those other Russians. The KGB did it.’
‘Did Nancy Haynes ever come here, Renee?’
The woman’s eyes narrowed. ‘Who?’
‘The American lady who was staying next door to Mikhail Moszynski-the one who was murdered last Thursday.’
‘What’s that?’ Freddie Clarke had reappeared at the door.
Kathy repeated the question.
‘Hell, no. Why would she? She certainly wasn’t a client of ours. Why, are you trying to make some connection?’
‘This is her photograph,’ Kathy said, showing it to both of them. ‘Have you ever seen her?’
They both said no, and Renee left.
‘As you see, Inspector,’ Clarke went on, ‘I’m up to my ears at the moment. Was there anything in particular you were after?’
‘I just wanted an overview of Mr Moszynski’s business affairs. I’m probably not asking the right questions. Maybe I should get our financial specialists to come and talk to you.’
He frowned and tugged at the bears. ‘I’m sure that won’t be necessary. I could give you a list of his principal companies and trusts, if you like. The most significant is RKF SA.’
‘Thank you.’ She thought a moment. ‘RKF as in Rosskomflot?’
He looked at her sharply. ‘That’s right. You do know something of his affairs, then?’
‘A little. Do you have company prospectuses, annual statements?’
He smirked. ‘These are private companies, almost all registered overseas. RKF is registered in Luxembourg, for example.’
‘Ah yes, of course. So what would Mikhail be worth, all up?’
‘Oh…’ Clarke shook his head with a frown. ‘Very hard to say.’
‘Roughly. Take a guess.’
‘Roughly…’ He spread his hands. ‘Five hundred million? Six?’
‘Sterling?’
‘Dollars.’
‘And who will control that now?’
‘I haven’t seen his will…’
‘But he must have discussed it with you.’
‘Various family members will inherit, but taken with her present holding in RKF, his daughter Alisa-Mrs Kuzmin-will have a controlling interest, I believe.’
‘Not his wife?’
‘Not under the terms of their pre-nuptial agreement. She will be generously provided for, but won’t play an active part in the companies.’
‘And what role does Alisa’s husband Vadim play?’
‘He acts as Mikhail’s business representative in Russia. Vadim has extensive contacts with government and business over there. Mikhail hasn’t been back to Russia since his mother joined him over here.’
‘Was he afraid?’
‘I’ve read the letter and editorial in The Times this morning, and I was a little surprised. Mikhail hadn’t expressed those opinions so forcibly to me, but he was certainly uncomfortable about returning to Russia. He felt unwelcome there. Now look, if you don’t mind…’
Kathy got to her feet. ‘Could I have your mobile number, Mr Clarke? Just in case I have any more queries.’
He looked reluctant, but wrote a number on the back of a card and gave it to her.
‘Did you make any calls from Mr Moszynski’s house last Sunday?’
Clarke frowned. ‘Not that I can remember.’
‘What about anyone else? Did you see or hear anyone making or taking calls that afternoon and evening?’
‘I don’t believe so.’
‘Sir Nigel Hadden-Vane, for instance?’
‘Em… actually, I think he did call his wife at one stage.’
‘Anyone else?’
‘No. Now I really must get on.’
Kathy drove across the river and picked up the A30, heading south into Surrey. Beyond Esher she turned off the main road, following the satnav prompts. The traffic faded away and the houses, glimpsed through dense banks of foliage, became larger.
She turned onto a gravel drive towards an orange-brick, half-timbered Tudorbethan country house outside which a red Ferrari Spider was parked. A maid showed her into a living room overlooking a broad lawn at the back of the house. Two people were sitting on a sofa, Shaka and Vadim, just like the last time Kathy had seen them at Chelsea Mansions, almost like two people plotting. When they saw Kathy their faces shut down. Shaka’s took on the distant, haughty look of a model on a catwalk, while Vadim’s set into a hostile frown.
‘Sorry to bother you again. I just need to check a few things with you. We need to establish a complete picture of where everyone was during the past week.’ Kathy went through her routine, recording their recollections of people’s movements. Vadim had little to say, and looked increasingly impatient.
When they were finished, Kathy said, ‘Can you tell me who are the executors of Mr Moszynski’s estate?’
‘We are,’ Shaka said. ‘The two of us.’ Had she sounded just a little too offhand?
‘You and Mr Kuzmin.’
‘Right.’
‘When was that arranged?’
She shrugged. ‘Soon after Mikhail and I got married, wasn’t it, Vadim?’
He didn’t reply, staring balefully at Kathy. She wondered if he’d learned that stare in the KGB.
‘You’ll have your hands full trying to sort out your husband’s finances, won’t you, Mrs Moszynski? I gather they’re complicated.’
‘He’s not even in the ground yet,’ Shaka said coolly. ‘We’re grieving. We haven’t thought about it.’
Kathy doubted that.
They heard Alisa’s voice somewhere outside and Vadim seemed to rouse himself. He said, ‘We haven’t shown Alisa the newspaper reports today. She is still very upset. Please be tactful.’
When Alisa came in Kathy went through her questions, and as Moszynski’s daughter spoke Kathy was struck by the contrast between Alisa and the other two. At thirty she was actually a couple of years older than Shaka, but seemed much more vulnerable. From time to time she wiped tears from her eyes, recalling something her father
