Private Moscow

Chapter 79

The dining hall was full. More than eighty residents sat at the long tables, drinking and talking in somber tones. I couldn’t understand a word, but I didn’t need to. It was a wake, and like all such occasions it was rich in reflection, memory and sorrow. I sat alone near the windows, looking outside to see the clouds were finally shedding their loads. Large flakes floated down in the bright pools cast by the exterior lights, settling on the frozen ground like the souls of so many dead. Beyond the lights, there was nothing but black night, so impenetrable the rest of the world might have ceased to exist.

I nursed a small glass of vodka, which I’d been given for one of the many toasts that had been raised for Leonid Boykov, but I had no interest in drinking. My mood was already bleak, and alcohol would have tipped me into misery. A good man had lost his life investigating the murder of a fraud and a liar — an investigation I had brought Leonid into.

I was at the very end of one of the long dining tables, surrounded by empty chairs. A few of the ex-cops had gathered at the other end, and there were more spread across the neighboring tables. They didn’t pay me much mind as they sank their drinks and talked quietly. None of them knew the details of the investigation into Karl Parker so I doubted they blamed me as much I blamed myself.

Anna Bolshova was with Dinara, who had stayed in her room. She too blamed herself and kept saying she could have saved him. I hadn’t been able to get through to her, but perhaps Anna could.

Feo was nowhere to be seen. He and another resident had left the building shortly after I’d come into the dining hall.

I was snapped out of my miserable reflection by my ringing phone, and was relieved to see Justine’s name flash on screen.

“Jack,” she said, when I answered. “I got your message. I’m so sorry. What happened?”

“Veles, the man who killed...” I hesitated. What should I call my former friend? I opted for simplicity, even though it perpetuated a lie. “The man who killed Karl Parker. He murdered Leonid. Dinara witnessed the whole thing.”

“Oh no. I’m sorry, Jack. Is she OK?”

“Not really,” I replied.

“And you?”

I hesitated. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling, but I knew it wasn’t good. “I’ll be OK,” I lied.

Feo entered the dining hall, and I could tell by his demeanor that he had news. He scanned the room, and when he spotted me, he strode over.

“I’ve got to go, Justine,” I said. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

“Please be careful, Jack,” she replied.

“I will,” I assured her before I hung up.

Feo’s face was devoid of the levity I’d grown accustomed to. He looked stern and fearsome, and his size made his dark mood even more palpable.

“I’ve been to the city,” he said, taking the seat opposite. “My old colleagues in the Moscow police have been told to find you.”

My shoulders slumped and I exhaled slowly. I knew what was coming. It was the smart move and I should have expected it.

“They say you are the main suspect in the murder of Leonid Boykov,” Feo continued. “The story is beginning to leak to the newspapers. By morning, every police officer in Russia will be looking for you. I tried to tell them...” He trailed off and held my gaze. “Even if they’d believed me, it wouldn’t have made a difference. One or two officers can’t overturn this. There’s something much bigger behind it.”

He paused, clearly building up to something he didn’t want to say.

“You’re going to be labeled a cop killer,” he said. “We don’t treat such people well in this country. If you stay in Russia, there’s a good chance you will die before you make it to trial.”