‘It wasn’t until I started doing the timings that I realized. I thought we saw her before Andreychuk locked up the house, but that isn’t possible. The film shoot is a minimum ten minutes’ walk from the house. We must have passed Andreychuk on the way, although we didn’t see him. When we saw her, Andreychuk would have already been down in the village.’
Korolev looked at the timings once again. If the caretaker hadn’t committed the crime, who had? And who’d helped him escape, and why?
Chapter Eighteen
The bedroom window squeaked as Korolev rubbed at it, clearing the mist. The sky outside was a dark, dark blue. Dawn was imminent and it looked promising – it wasn’t raining, and it wasn’t snowing, even if at some stage during the night a thin carpet of white had been spread across the landscape. To his surprise, he found himself optimistic about the day ahead – it was a day that promised to be one of revelations and developments, and in his experience that was the sort of day you wanted to get a head start on. He turned to look at Les Pins, snuggled under what appeared to be an unfair allocation of blankets, and then made his way to the bathroom.
Ten minutes later he was making his way across the courtyard when he saw a familiar figure come out of the corner cottage.
‘Comrade Mushkina,’ Korolev called out. She turned towards him, her eyes squinting as if struggling to identify him.
‘Korolev?’
‘Yes, Korolev. I was wondering if I could have a few moments of your time.’
‘I’m just going for a walk,’ Mushkina replied, indicating the path that led around the side of the house with a flick of her stick.
‘I’m sure it won’t take more than a moment. We could go back inside if you’d like.’
Although, now that he thought of it, her cottage contained the angry Chekist major who was also her son. Why hadn’t he offered to talk to her in the investigation room? It was almost as close.
‘Come in and welcome,’ she said, opening the door to a small hallway and leading the way. Korolev took off his hat and dipped underneath the lintel even though it wasn’t that close to his head. He followed Mushkina through to a large sitting room.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you,’ he said.
‘That’s quite all right, Korolev.’
A copy of Furmanov’s Chapayev lay on the table, the faded lettering of the title barely legible on its upturned spine. It looked as though it had been read more than a few times. She’d been a political commissar herself, hadn’t she? Perhaps the book had some resonance for her.
‘What can I do for you?’ she asked, following his eyeline to the book, then examining him in turn as though searching for the answers to some questions of her own. Korolev had to remind himself that he was the one meant to be interrogating her, not the other way round.
‘I’ve heard about the events down at the Militia station, if that’s what you’ve come to tell me about,’ she said, before he had a chance to ask her anything. ‘A great surprise. Andreychuk always gave the impression of being a good worker but it seems we must be careful of even those we feel we know quite well these days.’
Korolev took his notebook from his overcoat pocket, opening it at the first clean page.
‘It’s about Citizen Andreychuk I’ve come.’
‘I guessed as much.’
‘It’s possible he took a journey over towards Krasnogorka last week. With Citizen Lenskaya. Do you know anything about that?’
‘I think he said something about having been asked to drive one of the film people somewhere, but he didn’t mention where to, or who had asked him.’
‘Do you remember the day?’
‘Thursday, perhaps. I’m not sure. He said it wouldn’t affect his other duties, so I agreed and gave it no more thought.’
‘He went to a village called Angelinivka; it’s on the border.’
‘Yes, the Dnester runs past it. Although it’s wide at that point.’
‘Did he have a pass to visit the area?’
‘He would have had, yes. We have connections with kolkhoz s in the border areas, and have students over there at this very moment.’
‘So he could have been over that way quite often recently?’
‘Several times since the new year.’
It occurred to Korolev that if Andreychuk was involved in some kind of terrorist conspiracy, this would be a perfect cover. He considered the point for a moment before changing tack.
‘Did you see anything unusual yesterday – at the time of Andreychuk’s escape? I believe you were walking near the village at around six o’clock.’
‘Yes, with Comrade Les Pins. We didn’t go into the village itself, but we were close enough. If I’d seen anything suspicious you can be assured I would have informed you directly.’
‘I’m sure you would,’ Korolev replied, flicking back through the pages of his notebook to check his memory of his conversation with Les Pins the night before. ‘Did you say you were with Comrade Les Pins?’
‘Yes. He speaks a Russian you don’t hear much these days. I like to listen to him.’
‘I was curious about that,’ Korolev said. ‘Where he acquired such Russian, I mean.’
‘His father was a diplomat in Petersburg for a few years at the end of the last century; he went home with a Russian wife,’ Mushkina said, before correcting herself. ‘In Leningrad, I meant. But Les Pins is still a good comrade, despite his class background. He has some interesting insights into the situation in Spain.’
‘And where did your walk take you?’
‘Around the house and the College mainly.’
‘I wonder if I could have your exact route, Comrade Mushkina. At what time you started walking, at what time you finished, and who you met. If anyone.’
Mushkina looked at him sharply, but her voice, when she responded, was calm.
‘Timing is difficult, Comrade Captain. I don’t wear a watch. But if you say it was at six o’clock then I won’t disagree with you. It could well have been, it was certainly getting dark. I would think we left not long before five- thirty, we took a walk around the lake, and then he accompanied me around the College. We saw a few of the film people and Gradov, the sergeant from the village. But we didn’t speak to anyone. I would imagine we finished here no later than six-thirty.’
‘And you went nowhere near the village?’
‘No.’
‘And you didn’t see Lomatkin, the journalist?’
‘Should we have seen him?’
‘Not necessarily. And if you didn’t see him, you didn’t see him. Now, if you don’t mind, let’s go over it once again – and if you can give me the descriptions of the film people you saw, I’d be grateful. It may be they saw something that you didn’t.’
The shadows cast by the courtyard buildings were long in the watery dawn sun when Korolev left Mushkina’s cottage. As he walked back towards the house he wondered why Les Pins had said he was reading in his room at the time of the escape, when in fact he’d been with Mushkina. And then there was Andreychuk driving around the border area at will – what was he to make of that?
He looked up to find himself face to face with Slivka. She looked surprisingly chirpy for first thing in the morning.
‘You look like you slept well,’ he said.
‘Spectacularly, Chief. Really – a world-class sleep. A sleep the like of which an American millionaire would
