An Autumn Hunting

Chapter 21

I managed to doze off, in spite of the unyielding floor and the constant buffeting from the unmade road. When I woke, the noise of traffic outside and the comparative smoothness of the road told me we were back in Bishkek. I assumed we were going to yet another of Aliyev’s safe houses – in another life, he would have made a great property developer. Finally, we ground to a lurching halt and a fist hammered on the back door. The hinges screamed and the light poured in; I wondered if it would be accompanied by a spattering of bullets.

‘Out.’

A gruff voice I didn’t recognise, so I pulled myself to my feet, lurched to the door, lowered myself onto the ground. We were in an enclosed courtyard, with high brick walls and solid metal gates. The two-storey house was nothing special to look at, but all the windows had steel shutters, and the front door looked capable of withstanding anything short of a shell from a T-42 tank.

Half a dozen men stood nearby, hands close to their weapons, watching for the first signs of threat. Aliyev shrugged at the look on my face.

‘They don’t know you, Inspector. You’ll understand trusting a police officer doesn’t come naturally to them.’

‘These days, it doesn’t come naturally to me either,’ I said.

‘I’m sure the penalties for failing to kill a state minister are much lighter than if you’d actually succeeded,’ Aliyev said. ‘Perhaps better marksmen in the firing squad?’

We both knew if Tynaliev ever caught up with me, I’d want to die a long time before he finally obliged.

‘What have I got to lose?’ I shrugged. ‘Whoever kills me, they can only do it to me once.’

‘It’s how they do it that counts,’ Aliyev said, and I sensed the shark’s fin break out of the water, circling in search of prey.

‘Something to eat?’ he said. ‘Then perhaps we resume our chat? I find your insights illuminating. Like reading the mind across the other side of the chessboard.’

Except you’re not the one facing checkmate, I thought.

We walked towards the house, the door swinging open as we grew near.

‘I made a few calls on the way here,’ Aliyev said, gesturing for me to enter before him. ‘You’ll be surprised to hear we weren’t the only survivors of last night’s troubles. I’m not sure how they managed to get away, but it should be enlightening to find out.’

The hall was as gloomy as I’d expected, brown-painted walls, pairs of outdoor shoes and felt slippers scattered in one corner. A large mirror hung slightly askew on one wall, the backing silver tarnished and chipped away in places. A diagonal crack split my refection in half, obliterating my left eye.

‘Not the Hyatt Regency, I’m afraid, but at least it’s above ground,’ Aliyev said with an almost-sincere apologetic smile.

‘No one trying to kill us either,’ I said.

‘Give it time.’

That wasn’t the most comforting comment I’d ever heard, but the house looked impregnable enough. The only question was who would come looking for us. The police and Tynaliev’s security team? The attackers at the last safe house? Aliyev’s rivals in the mob? Quicker and easier to compile a list of people who didn’t want us dead. But at least I’d made it into the inner circle, the first small step towards what I had to do.

As I stood in the hall, avoiding the accusing stare from my reflection in the mirror, I heard footsteps on the wooden staircase at the far end of the room.

Then all questions of who might want to see me dead at some point in the future faded away. Because I knew the man who stood in front of us, fists clenched at his sides, was very keen to see me dead there and then.

‘Privyet, Zakir,’ I said. ‘Good to see you escaped too. You couldn’t make me a cup of tea by any chance, could you?’