TEN
Leonid Sharvotz felt the blow to his head and another almost immediately to his kidney. He turned and slumped in confusion and pain against the wall of Georgi Radzo’s small room. Leonid’s face had hit the wall.
Leonid was sure his nose was bleeding. This was confirmed when he looked up from where he was kneeling to see the streak of blood down the dirty white wall.
He curled up, expecting more blows. A powerful hand grabbed Leonid’s shoulder and pulled him up. The hand turned him around, and a very light-headed Leonid Sharvotz looked into the face of Georgi Radzo. Georgi’s was an angry, determined, slightly stupid face with a taped broken nose.
The only positive thing about what was happening was that the smell and taste of blood blocked the almost putrid odor of sweat, unemptied trash, and bedding that hadn’t been changed in months.
“Lean your head back. I’ll hold it. Pinch your nose here and breathe through your mouth,” said Georgi. “Your nose isn’t broken. You want to see a really broken nose, I’ll take my tape off and show you one.”
Georgi’s voice was strange, as if he were far away on a bad telephone connection. Part of the reason was the padding in both of Georgi’s nostrils, an attempt, coupled with the tape, to give the big man’s nose some semblance of shape when it healed. Another part of the reason was that Leonid’s ears were now being covered by Georgi, who was massaging Leonid’s neck gently with his thumbs.
“Pinch the nose,” Georgi reminded him.
Leonid pinched his nose and felt blood on his fingers.
“It’s stopping,” said Georgi. “It was nothing.”
Leonid lifted his head. The bleeding had stopped. He tasted the blood that had dripped into his mouth and felt nauseous.
“Why?” Leonid repeated. “Why did you hit me?”
Georgi had turned Leonid so they were facing each other again.
“I am not as smart as you or Yevgeny,” the big man said, “but I am not a fool. If anyone is a fool, it is you.”
“What …?”
“Yevgeny didn’t have to kill Igor,” Georgi said. “There was no reason. Igor wouldn’t have betrayed us. He was weak, but he wouldn’t have done it because he’s afraid of me and Yevgeny. I am right, Leonid Sharvotz.”
“Why would he murder Igor?” asked Leonid, wanting to sit down, needing to sit.
He staggered to a straight-backed wooden chair, feeling the pain in his kidney with each step. Georgi didn’t try to stop him but went on talking.
“He plans to kill me. He plans to kill you. He may even plan to kill Igor’s family. He has the letter. He will destroy it and be the only one who knows where the wolf is hidden. Or maybe he’ll use us to help him get it and then murder us.”
“No,” said Leonid, tilting his head back over the top of the chair to keep the blood from coming again. “I’ve known Yevgeny since we were children.”
“Yevgeny wants it for himself. Yevgeny likes to kill. Yevgeny may be a bit crazy, and he is smarter than you and me.”
“I don’t believe it,” Leonid said, pinching his nose again. “I’ve known Yevgeny since we were children.”
“You said that,” said Georgi, who had not moved. “So think back on the violent things he did in the past.”
Leonid could remember only one thing specifically, but he had the definite feeling that if he spent more time thinking about it, he would find that Georgi was right. Leonid was suddenly both in pain and afraid.
“Once he pushed a girl down the stairs,” Leonid said. “In school. The girl was about nine. Yevgeny had called her a name, made fun of her freckles. She had answered his insult in front of a gathering of about fifteen students in the hall by saying everyone knew he had a Jew nose. She turned. He followed her and pushed her down the stairs. I remember he was smiling when she fell. The girl broke her leg and a finger. Yevgeny said she had fallen and I said she had fallen. I don’t remember her name.”
“You remember Yevgeny’s smile,” said Georgi.
With his head still back, Leonid confirmed this with a nod.
“I propose we kill Yevgeny before he kills us,” said Georgi.
Leonid sat up suddenly, still pinching his nose. He looked at Georgi and knew that the big man meant it.
“I’ll do it,” said Georgi. “You don’t have to see or hear or be there.”
“No,” said Leonid.
“You know I’m right,” said Georgi.
And Leonid did.
“But how do I know you won’t kill me, too?” asked Leonid.
“Because you are alive,” said Georgi with what might have been a smile. “I could have thrown you out the window. No one knows you are visiting me. You could have come out of any window.”
“Yevgeny would know,” said Leonid.
“And be pleased that he had one less partner to deal with,” said Georgi.
“He would know it was you,” said Leonid.
“Probably,” Georgi agreed. “In which case I would have to find him quickly and kill him before he discovered what had happened to you. But I don’t want to kill you. There will be more than enough money to make us both very rich. You have never acted as if you looked down on me. I like you and I need a partner with some brains to get us out of the country, to get the wolf out of Russia, to find someone to buy it.”
“You suddenly seem smart enough,” said Leonid, looking down at the blood on his shirt. He only had four decent shirts and this was one of them.
Georgi shook his head no.
“I’ve thought this through no further than I’ve told you. My mother said I was shrewd when I did poorly in school. She said my shrewdness would see me through life. I’ve exhausted whatever reserve of shrewdness I have for this project. I don’t know how to go beyond killing Yevgeny before he kills us.”
“You had to beat me to tell me this?” asked Leonid.
“I think so,” said Georgi. “I had to get your attention. I am sorry. I could think of no other way. All I know is my own strength. I am often wrong, but I am not wrong about Yevgeny.”
“I think you are not wrong,” Leonid agreed, glancing away.
“I feel you are usually telling the truth when we talk,” said Georgi. “I never have the feeling Yevgeny is telling the truth. You understand?”
Leonid understood. It had been his own feeling for many years, but he had not listened to it. Leonid may have been reasonably smart, but he was a follower, content to be told, first by his father and then by Yevgeny, exactly what to do. He suddenly felt a fear of his boyhood friend, a fear far greater than any in his life, a fear that was miles above his fear of Georgi.
“When will you do it?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Soon. I was going to wait, but it should probably be today, before he sees you. He’ll know something is wrong. You do not lie well, Leonid. The blood from your nose we can take care of. I think the bleeding has stopped, and we can clean you up and throw away the shirt. I can give you one of mine. It will be too large. Throw it away when you get back to your apartment. Soon we will be wearing silk shirts and ties in Paris or Prague or maybe even London or New York.”
The thought of wearing one of Georgi’s shirts brought Leonid’s nausea back.
“But,” Georgi went on, “I’m not sure you will be able to walk straight. He will ask you what happened. As I said, you are a poor liar. That’s another reason I think I can trust you. But Yevgeny will know you are lying, and I think you are not strong enough to stand up to him. No, I’ll have to do it today with my hands or a knife. Tell me how to do it, Leonid.”
Leonid sat still, finding himself thinking seriously about the best place to have Georgi murder his closest
