A Killing Winter

Chapter 49

The bathroom door opened, and a grim-faced Kursan emerged.

I pointed to the ashtray.

‘He doesn’t pay you enough to give up the papiroshi? Betrayal must come cheap these days,’ I said. ‘I could smell them from halfway down the corridor. Might as well have painted a sign.’

Kursan shrugged and sat down, no sign now of the carefree bold smuggler. I stared at him without speaking for a moment. My dead wife’s uncle, the man who’d danced at our wedding, who’d emptied vodka bottles with us until dawn, who could always be relied on to help out with food and tea when things were scarce.

Knowing I was right didn’t make my sense of his complete betrayal any easier. Everything I’d ever considered sacred, family as something honest and intact outside the fogs and mists of deceit in which I lived, all of that had fallen apart when Kursan had walked through the door.

‘I always said my niece had married a smart man, Akyl. Maybe too smart,’ Kursan said, lighting up the inevitable papirosh.

‘You found the hotel; no one knew we were staying at the Grand, so it had to be you who organised the snatch. What I didn’t know was whose side you were on, who you were betraying us for. Then the ment told me about the police car leaving the scene, and I figured it was bringing Saltanat here –’

‘As I told you, Inspector, a concerned citizen doing his civic duty,’ the Chief interrupted.

‘On the side of the angels?’ I asked. ‘So, of course, you handed the million-som holdall of drugs over to the proper authorities?’

Kursan looked hesitant for a second, then the Chief intervened.

‘Inspector, everything’s under control, accounted for. I suggest you go home.’

‘It’s just that when I checked in the custody book, there was no mention of Saltanat or the drugs,’ I lied. ‘As far as the record’s concerned, a fender-bender out in Tyngush was the evening’s only incident.’

The Chief spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture.

‘These things take time. Surely it’s more important to interview the prisoner than to spend time scribbling down details?’

‘And much more convenient if the interview starts at the top of some stairs and gets signed off at the bottom.’

The Chief scowled, and topped up his glass.

‘I understand you’re stressed, but don’t push me too far.’

I didn’t look too terrified, and that didn’t please him either. I finally lit my cigarette, letting the smoke cascade towards the ceiling and join the blue cloud already there. I didn’t offer the pack around.

‘The problem with this case has always been motive. Lots of connected events, but seemingly too separate to be connected. Unless someone big is pulling the strings.’

The Chief stared at me, unblinking. Kursan was looking at his hands, careful not to catch anyone’s eye.

‘The pakhan told me the motive. “Terror and confusion,” he said.’

‘Go on,’ the Chief growled.

He started to top up my glass, but I shook my head and he put the bottle down.

‘To do something this big, all the murders, here and in Uzbekistan, takes real money. The sort of money a government has. Or the people behind a government.’

The Chief sipped from his glass.

‘Like I told you, Inspector, it’s the Uzbeks.’

I gave him the unblinking eye right back.

‘No, it isn’t.’

The silence in the room stank of anticipation, of men working up the courage to reach for their guns and turn the quiet into mayhem.

When the Chief spoke, it was in a very calm, measured voice.

‘So who is it, then?’

‘Which family controlled everything in this country until the last revolution? Which family pillaged the state treasury, the foreign aid reserves, every last som they could lay their hands on, then jumped on a private jet with the loot? Leaving their stooges in the army to gun down civilians outside the White House while they celebrated with champagne at forty thousand feet?’

I realised that my voice had risen, and there was anger in it. The Chief shook his head, unable to believe my stupidity.

‘And who’d follow their cause now? They’re hated from here to Karakol. Believe me, Inspector, that’s a crazy theory.’

I nodded agreement, then turned over my cards.

‘It’s crazy if you think they’re expecting the support of the people, the way things stand now. But out of all the millions they took away with them, they found enough to make a deal with the Circle of Brothers. Here’s a few million dollars, cause terror and confusion, make the people see they need a tough leader, and we’ll cut more deals when I’m back in the White House.’

The Chief looked at me, and there was a sort of grudging admiration there.

‘It’s a very interesting theory, Inspector. One you could follow that leads all the way to the cemetery next to your wife.’

I nodded.

‘Of course, terror isn’t enough, not on its own. You need to manipulate it, take each twist and coil and turn them to your advantage. Stir up trouble, quell it, show you’re the tough guy the country needs.’

I didn’t hear any disagreement, so I pressed on.

‘Tyulev and Lubashov, the shoot-out at Fatboys? At first, I did think Saltanat had set me up for it. Then I thought that they’d been involved with the murders, and this was to stop me going any further. But the truth? Tyulev was a zhopoliz; he’d kiss anyone’s arse if there was money in it. He was too deep into something too big for him, and he wanted to sell me information. So Lubashov was sent to silence him. It wasn’t a hit on me, but on Tyulev. He got the long sleep, and I tucked Lubashov away.’

I ticked both names off on my fingers, and moved on.

‘Gasparian? Well, that’s an easy one. Planning a coup like this isn’t cheap. You need someone who can move money around. Word of mouth is all very well for moving money from one country to another, even tens of thousands of dollars. But we’re talking millions, and Gasparian knew how to shift them. The UAE kicked him out for doing just that. I imagine he did a little creative accountancy on his own behalf. The Circle of Brothers found out and ordered you to organise his dive, once he was no longer useful.’

The Chief stared at me, his face unreadable.

‘Go on.’

‘The two hookers, well, that’s straightforward. They were sleeping with Gasparian, and who knows what a man might mumble to impress a woman? Making sure they can’t pass on any pillow talk is just an elementary precaution. And if you kill them to make it look like yet two more slayings by some maniac to boost a job, even better.

‘The deal with the pakhan, the local salesman for the Circle of Brothers? Well, it was a bonus for the big guys if his tongue didn’t dance once his usefulness was outlived. And having Uzbek Security take care of it made it even more secure.’

I remembered Saltanat placing a shot into her bodyguard’s head next to Gulbara’s headless corpse, and blinked to erase the image. For a second, I smelt the cordite and tasted the blood.

‘Of course, having a turncoat in Uzbek Security was a great way of keeping track of Saltanat’s movements. Until Illya gave himself away. We knew he’d talked, just not who was listening.’

I made a gesture with my hand, like moving an invisible chess piece.

‘All the pieces were on the board, but only one player could see them all.’

The Chief considered everything, nodded slowly.

‘I don’t say I agree, but I can see you’ve got a case to be made.’

I held my hand up.

‘There’s more. The dead Russian woman? Spetsnaz? Nothing more likely to wind up the Russians than the murder of one of their top force. Pride and revenge kick in. Add the chance to regain more control over the region, and get the US airbase at Manas closed down, and their tanks would be rolling down Chui by the end of the month. And, of course, a Russian air-force plane was the ideal way to get the krokodil to all those Russki junkies. But Barabanov found out, and you had his girlfriend slaughtered. Was he paid off by you? A part of it? I don’t suppose I’ll find out. But it doesn’t matter; her death served your purpose.’

I ticked off yet another finger. I needed more fingers. The way the burn was scouring my nerves, like a dog gnawing at the bones, maybe I’d need a new hand.

‘It helped to add to the confusion with that fake police ID, to show that maybe I was involved as well. So if I got too close to anything, they could turn suspicion back on me.

‘And the death that kicked all this off? The Minister’s daughter? No one gives a fuck about some dead peasant girl, but take out a top family member and all the nomenklatura start worrying which of their children is going to turn up face down. Government in disarray? Plenty of terror and even more confusion.’

I paused to let this sink in, then continued.

‘Easy enough to get the killings done. Plenty of mindless thugs in the prisons, and anyone with access to records could tell you who the rapist-murderers are, who’s got some surgical skills for dissecting the victims. Even easier to recruit the krokodil crowd and the simply stupid, who don’t mind inflicting a bit of pain and shedding someone else’s blood.’

I held my hand up to show the little souvenir that Leather Jacket had given me to remember him by. The smell of burnt fat lingered in the air.

The Chief pushed his chair back, but I raised my hand and he stayed slumped.

‘Inspector, as conspiracy theories go, there’s one major flaw in your argument, but you’re probably so blinkered that you’ve overlooked it.’

He leant forward and waved a finger in the general direction of the vodka bottle.

‘Say you’re right, just for the moment, for argument’s sake. The people you claim are behind this, they’re abroad and living very comfortably, thank you. You’ve got murders, shoot-outs, not just here in Bishkek but all over the country, even over the border. How could they control and coordinate it?’

He settled back with a satisfied smile and poured a short one, tossed it back and poured another.

‘You’re right, of course, Chief, but I spotted that flaw as well. You’d need to have someone on the ground, directing traffic, making calls, keeping an eye on things, pushing the pawns forward.’

I made the gesture of a chess player toppling his opponent’s king.

‘And they did have someone. You.’