The Sin Collector

ANDREY

Unfortunately, Masha pulled away from him all too quickly. Andrey thought it must be the ham on his breath, but she was thinking of something else.

“I have to call Kenty and apologize.” In a kittenlike move, she gave his cheek a pat, and then took her phone out onto the veranda.

Andrey wondered how he could ever have been jealous of Kenty. Now he just felt sorry for him. He even felt sort of superior, which was really funny when he thought about it. He was finishing his coffee when Masha returned. She looked worried.

“He’s not answering. Not his cell and not his home phone, either. Where could he be?”

“Maybe his parents’ place?” Andrey suggested, putting the rest of the food back in the fridge.

“No,” Masha said, shaking her head thoughtfully. “He never spends the night there.”

“Hey now,” Andrey said, leading her toward the front door. “Don’t worry too much over him. And don’t get suspicious all over again. Maybe he’s just singing in the shower and didn’t hear the phone ring. Or maybe he got drunk last night to ease the pain, and he’s sleeping, with the phone switched off.”

“Innokenty, getting drunk?” Masha asked doubtfully.

“So you admit he sings in the shower, then?” Andrey teased as they climbed into his car. “A Verdi aria in the original Italian, I’ll bet, none of this pop music nonsense!”

Masha laughed, but sadly. Andrey laid a hand on her knee—this time for reassurance rather than romance.

“I’m going to drop you at the clinic to visit your mom. Spend as much time with her as you need. Then take a taxi straight to Petrovka, okay? I don’t want you out of arm’s reach.”

“All right,” Masha answered obediently, and her knee shook a little under his hand. “But you don’t need to worry, I told you—”

“You told me, and I heard you. The killer’s going after the people you love, not you. I heard that yesterday when you said it in the supermarket, too. So let’s frame it another way: you’ll be protecting me with your presence, okay?”

“Okay, okay! I’ll stay close by.”

They stopped by the store again to pick up some juice, Natasha’s favorite crackers, and some flowers. Half an hour later, he dropped her off in front of the clinic.

Andrey watched Masha walk in, and he spent a moment hoping that the events of the coming day wouldn’t add to her worries. Masha needs a break, he thought as he pulled out of the clinic parking lot. She needed an intermission, or she’d need to be admitted herself. Her heart already ached too much to let her brain make any logical connections. Maybe that was exactly what the Sin Collector was counting on. Maybe he was clobbering her with pain to switch off her mind? Did that mean that regardless of how pointless all their poking around had seemed, they were actually getting close? He hoped Masha could concentrate fully on her daughterly duties for now. A new little idea was dawning in Andrey’s head, and he wanted to check it out right away.

But the loud ringing of his phone disrupted that train of thought.

It was Fomin. “Andrey. Looks like we have a new body.”

“Hang on,” Andrey told him, and swerved sharply to park on the shoulder, ignoring the furious honking that followed. “Are you sure it’s one of ours?”

“Not positive, but seems like it. Last night, the fire department got called to Victory Park. The blaze was big enough to see from across the city. Then they found a burned corpse, and an ID with the name, uh, hold on…” Fomin rustled some papers. “Innokenty Arzhenikov. And since the place was the only one on our table outside the Boulevard Ring Road—Andrey? You still there?”

“Innokenty?” Andrey asked, his voice hoarse.

“Yeah, you know that name?”

“Yes, I do. He’s the guy who wrote that table.”

A short while later, he was back at the clinic. He spent some time sitting in the car, staring dumbly out the window, putting off the moment he would have to tell Masha the terrible news.