“Yes.” Sergei looked uncertain. “Not always in this apartment.”
“Where else?”
“Farther down, with some others.”
“Also musicians?”
“Yes.”
“So why did you move here?”
“I had more money since the Majestic.”
“Where did you play before?”
“The Excelsior.” He shrugged again. “Other places.”
“So when did you join the band at the Majestic?”
“Four months ago.”
“And you’d not met Lena or seen her before then?”
Sergei shook his head. Field was certain he was lying.
“Did you know she was working for Lu Huang and living in one of his flats?”
Sergei sensed danger. “You must understand, we did not talk about her . . . work. We didn’t talk about anything like that. The ground was always kept neutral.”
“Did you go to her apartment?”
“No.”
“So what was your interest in her?”
He shrugged. “She was not a bad-looking girl . . . You know, from Kazan. I mean . . .”
“Did you fuck her?” Caprisi asked.
Sergei smiled, a tight weasel grin, revealing a mouthful of decaying teeth. “Sometimes, you know . . .”
“No, I don’t know.”
“She liked a bit of Russian meat.” He smiled again. “Liked a man to speak Russian to her.”
“So she never talked about Lu Huang?”
He shook his head.
“She never talked about any other boyfriends or other men that she slept with?”
“No.”
“You knew she was a prostitute?”
He grinned again. “I fuck her sometimes. She likes a Russian who doesn’t pay, then she doesn’t feel like a whore.”
“So you weren’t friends?”
“Sometimes she comes here and cries and I let her, then I fuck her some more.”
Caprisi stood, sensing Field’s anger. “Easy, man,” he whispered, “we’re out of bounds.”
Field breathed out, unclenched his fists, and tried to force himself to relax.
“So,” Caprisi went on, “when you slept together, it was here, in this apartment.”
“Yes.”
“You never went down to Foochow Road?”
The Russian shook his head.
“But you knew that was where she lived?”
Sergei hesitated again. “She may have mentioned it.”
“She may have, or she did?”
“She did.”
“But you never went there?”
“She didn’t want me to.”
“Was she in love with you?”
Sergei smirked again but didn’t answer. “Cigarette?” he asked, offering the packet. They both declined.
Sergei was not wearing socks or shoes, and Field noticed his feet were as long and bony as his hands. Like his forearms, his legs appeared to be hairless.
“Did you know she slept with Lu?”
He shrugged.
