They arrived at Doring Road. They ran from the car to the stairway overhang. Upstairs they climbed to the second floor.
Nikolai turned on a light when they entered. “Yulia!” he called loud enough to be heard throughout the flat.
“Yulia’s not here,” Maxim said with an air of suspicion. “We mustn’t lose hope.”
There was a note. Mrs. Johnson had Sasha next door. They would watch TV until someone came to her.
“We’re not killing anyone, Max. We don’t know about that yet.”
“I’ve got a feeling she’s off with him,” Maxim insisted. “I don’t think that’s her in the snow. God, I hope not.”
“Don’t we both.”
They hung their coats on the door peg.
“Coffee? Something stronger?” Nikolai asked.
“Kubanskaya. I know you keep it.”
“Be right back.”
“Are you drinking with me?”
“Just one. To clear my head.”
“Of course.”
Two hours later, they were on their third vodka when the phone rang. Nikolai jumped at the sound, then picked it up from the table beside his chair. “Colonel Semenov.”
“Comrade Semenov. Nicole Reynolds calling from the crime lab. We expedite the fingerprint analysis in homicide cases.” The London police crime lab. Anchev had given the police his name and home phone.
“Yes, go on, please.”
“The fingerprints match the ones provided to us by the Soviet Embassy. It is your wife in the snow. I’m so sorry to tell you, but Anatoly Anchev said do not hesitate to call. I called him first. He said you’d want to hear it from me if you have questions.”
“Oh, God!” cried Nikolai. “How can you be sure of this?”
“Our crime lab gives us two-hour support in suspected homicide cases. Your wife took priority.”
Nikolai was softly weeping. But he didn’t want to end the call, not just yet.
“Which—which body was it?”
“The body in the white blouse. She was closest to the gates, according to my drawing.”
“You matched the fingertip to the finger?”
“It was very easy to do. They were cut with pruning shears. Or maybe tin snips. Do you know anyone with pruning shears or tin snips?”
“Thank you for calling,” Nikolai said without answering her. “Good evening.”
He replaced the phone on the table. He wiped a forearm across his eyes and wept, then swiped the tears from his eyes. He was crying openly in front of another KGB agent and didn’t care.
“I heard it all,” Maxim said quietly. “I’m sorry, Niky.”
Nikolai went into the bathroom and returned with a box of tissues. He thought he was done with the tears, and it was time to blow his nose. Except he didn’t get that far as he felt the tears well up in his eyes. He used sheet after sheet of tissue until the box was empty.
Maxim stood. “Let me get a tissue. Bathroom?”
“Please.” Nikolai lost it again, rocking back and forth, murmuring Yulia’s name over and over.
“Shock,” Maxim said, handing him a wad of toilet tissue. Maxim placed his hand on his shoulder. “There, there. We’ll find whoever did it.”
“We will. Oh, my God. Who would want to harm Yulia?”
“That’s the question. Maybe her lover? Maybe she was going to tell his wife if he didn’t leave her?”
“Oh.” He couldn’t stop the tears.
“That is a logical explanation. The bastard must be located. Look, someone at the party. He would have to be KGB to be there.”
Nikolai’s tears still rolled down his cheeks. He dabbed and turned away. “Sorry, Max. I—”
He shuddered. He could hear Sasha laughing and playing through the thin flat walls. Mrs. Johnson’s TV was blaring. How would he ever tell Sasha?
The phone rang again.
“Colonel Semenov? General Anchev. I’m sorry to hear about Yulia. Terribly sorry. I have put you in charge of the investigation.”
“Me? Seriously? My own wife?”
“You would rather it was someone else?” Now Nikolai heard the sarcasm. The game continued.
“Yes. I’ve never heard of the KGB investigating their own family member. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Fine, I’ll give the case to someone else.”
“Yes, I mean, I’ll probably be a mess for a day or two. You want someone on it without delay. What about Maxim? He’s sitting here with me. She was his sister-in-law.”
“Put him on.”
Nikolai handed the phone to Maxim. “Sorry,” he whispered.
“General? This is Major Moltoi. I am at your disposal.”
“It is your investigation, Major. Make us proud.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Be prepared to take the lie detector first thing tomorrow.”
“Sir?”
“We have to rule you out.”
“Yes, sir. I see.”
“It’s standard practice. We can’t have you investigating yourself now, can we?”
“No, sir.”
“Same thing with Colonel Semenov. Have him here for the test along with you. He must be ruled out. Standartnaya rabochaya protsedura. SRP.”
“Understood. I will bring the Colonel with me.”
“Excellent. That is all. Good night.”
Maxim handed the phone back to Nikolai. “Hello?” Nikolai said into the phone, but it was dead. General Anchev had hung up.
“Lie box?”
“Both of us,” Maxim said. “SRP. We must find her lover. Has anyone called her? Any man called here looking for her?”
Nikolai forced a smile. “Taking your new assignment seriously, are we?”
Maxim scowled. “I will find him for you, I promise. When I do, I shall shoot him. There will be no arrest.”
“Then you’re in trouble. No, we’ll let the KGB shoot him. That’s good enough for me.”
“All right, then. The KGB gets to shoot him. Let’s have one more,” said Maxim, holding up his empty glass.
“Agree. Then I can get Sasha and tell her. It’s going to be terrible!” The tears were building.
“I will leave you to it.”
Nikolai went into the kitchen for drinks. While at the sink running water, tears exploded in his eyes. He leaned his head over the sink and washed his eyes beneath the fixture. The water was cold—London water was all but freezing in the winter. But it felt good and helped him focus. He poured the vodka, added two cubes to each, and rejoined his guest.
They drank while Maxim outlined the steps he would take in the investigation. First, he would talk to every agent at the United Day celebration. The KGB had a list—the KGB always had a list. He would get to the bottom of the lover situation. “No one dares lie to an official investigation.” It was true. The crime of lying to the KGB was always worse than the crime under investigation for perpetrators and witnesses alike. So that consideration was on Maxim’s side.
“One thing troubles me,” Nikolai said with a steady voice.
“Burial?”
“There needs to be a memorial service.”