The Sin Collector

INNOKENTY

Innokenty hung up the phone and sank down heavily onto the dark-green leather ottoman in the hallway. That had been Masha’s denim detective, Yakovlev, again. He was driving, and apparently in a serious rush. Yakovlev had told Innokenty that Masha’s stepfather was dead. He had given no details, but Innokenty knew enough to understand that Belov must have been murdered in some hideous medieval manner. And Innokenty knew just as well as Yakovlev did that the death of Masha’s stepfather was no coincidence. The Sin Collector was breathing down Masha’s neck now. The fact that she was still alive might be just an oversight, though that was hard to believe. More likely, it was a vital part of his devious game, part of his obsessive control over events. He was saying that he could take Masha’s life, purely by his own will, any time he chose.

Yakovlev had asked Innokenty to pick up Masha and her mother and bring them to Kenty’s place. “Just for a while,” he specified. Innokenty could hear the fear and exhaustion in his voice. There was a new tone, too, a note of pleading.

“Of course. I’ll go get them right now,” Kenty had agreed. Then he added, “Don’t worry. My apartment is like a bank vault. They’ll be relatively safe here.”

“Relatively, right,” Yakovlev had answered, but he also thanked him sincerely.

“Not a problem,” Innokenty had said automatically, but something nagged at him. Who the hell did the denim detective think he was, thanking Kenty for taking care of Masha Karavay? He had taken care of her for the past fifteen years, without anybody ever asking him to! But he quickly made himself see reason. Masha’s gloomy-looking boss was turning out to be a good guy, and it was natural that he was worried about her. Innokenty ran downstairs to his car and headed for Masha’s house, without even bothering to call first.

When Masha opened the door, Kenty gave a start. She looked thin and unhealthy, her collarbones standing out at the neck of her bathrobe, her elbows too sharp, and her face… Masha’s face was drawn and pinched, with dark circles under her eyes and sunken cheeks. Her hair hung in long, disheveled strands, and even her eyes looked pale, as if all the light had gone out of them. She moved quietly to one side to let Kenty in and led him, her feet dragging, to the kitchen, where she sat down facing the light. She smiled, unhappily.

“Mama’s in the hospital,” she said. “Her heart was giving her trouble. I guess you already know what happened?”

Innokenty nodded and tried to take her hand in his, but she pulled away, then looked down to concentrate on picking at a hangnail. She succeeded, and tore a considerable swath of skin away with it. Masha didn’t even wince. She licked the blood off her finger and grimaced at him again with that same empty smile.

“Masha,” he began, “you shouldn’t be here. It’s too dangerous. Even if you were able to convince yourself that your friend’s death was a coincidence—”

“Her name was Katya,” Masha said.

“Yes,” Innokenty conceded. “But we know that Katya’s death was no accident, and your stepfather was targeted for a reason, too.”

“Right,” Masha agreed. “This is about me, and it’s all my fault.”

“That’s ridiculous! Why would you—”

“No, Kenty! Stop. It’s obvious!” Masha said, her words rushed now as she frantically pulled at another hangnail. “Even Mama said so!”

Innokenty grabbed her hand, but he felt her palm quiver and her fingers wriggle like insects as she tried to break free.

“Your mother said what?”

“Yes, Mama, too! If I hadn’t gotten involved in this Jerusalem thing, nobody would ever have figured it out! Maybe he even would have stopped killing, maybe he would have gotten bored with it. But now he has an audience, he has somebody to play with, you know? I mean, who would go and hide in the woods like an idiot, all alone? But if there are reasonably intelligent people looking for you, it’s different, and I’m closer than anyone else. It’s fun for him to play with me. And there are so many sinners around me. That’s what he’s trying to tell me. He’s saying I’ve been blind! I’m following his trail, but I can’t see what’s right in front of my face!”

“Masha!” Innokenty squeezed her hand harder. “We need to get you packed. Pick out what you need for a couple of days.”

“What’s the point, Kenty? Do you think he won’t find me?”

“My place is safer,” Innokenty insisted. He stood up, went to her bedroom, and opened the closet. Masha stood in the doorway and smiled at him strangely.

“You don’t get it, Kenty,” she said softly. “I’m not the one who needs to be protected. You are. You, my mom, everyone around me. You’re all in danger.”

Kenty did not turn his head. He found some jeans and sweaters and her favorite black T-shirts and put them in a bag. Masha sighed. With a hint of her old sense of humor, she added, “What, are you going to pack my underwear, too?”

“Well, where do you keep it?” asked Kenty, turning to her and smiling. And, thank God, she smiled back. For real, this time.

They walked out of Masha’s apartment ten minutes later, carrying the packed bag, and Innokenty closed and locked the door.