The Sin Collector

MASHA

“Okay, you, too. Talk to you soon,” Masha said, and tucked the phone back in her purse.

“Your old neighbor friend?” Innokenty lifted his glass of white wine. “You should have had some of this. It’s very light, and it complements the asparagus well.”

“You’re such a snob!” Masha said happily, stabbing at the asparagus with her fork. “By the way, she’s still in love with you.”

“Huh.” Innokenty frowned. “And she’s still jealous of you.”

Masha snorted and shrugged.

“I wish I had something to be jealous of! You should see how my new boss ignores me. Yesterday he saw me with Nick-Nick. He thinks I’m just an annoying rich girl with no brain.”

“But you do have a brain.” Kenty smiled.

Masha sighed. “No, not these days, I don’t. I’m just going around in circles. Around what, exactly, I don’t know. I’m looking into these strange deaths.”

“Aren’t there always plenty of those?”

“No. These are strange deaths in strange places.” Masha pulled the map of Moscow out of her bag. “Look.”

Innokenty laid the map out next to his plate and glanced over it while finishing his asparagus.

Masha watched hopefully, afraid to say anything. She hadn’t told Innokenty anything about the murders, so this map, marked with a cross at each crime scene, was his introduction to her puzzle. But they were used to trusting each other’s mental abilities, and while logic reigned supreme in Masha’s head, erudition guided Innokenty’s.

Finally, Masha couldn’t wait. “Well?”

“This is silly.” Innokenty pushed the map away. “Nothing’s coming to mind.”

Masha obediently took the map back. “I have a little time before I have to get back to work.”

“Let’s have some dessert! That’ll make you feel better.” Innokenty winked at Masha and insisted on ordering the biggest slice of cake in the display case, a monster covered in fruit and whipped cream.

“I’ve just made a deal for a fantastic icon,” he told her while they both dug in. “One made for the Old Believers, seventeenth century. I already have a buyer for it, too. I’ll be able to take a month of vacation, and, if you want—”

“Yelnik is one of them!” Masha interrupted him, nearly stabbing Innokenty with her cake-laden fork.

“Umm, what?” he asked.

Masha took out the map again, and Innokenty pulled a heavy gold pen from the breast pocket of his cherry-colored velvet jacket. Masha scribbled some quick circles on her napkin to get the ink flowing, then added a new little cross on the map next to Red Square.

“Huh.” Innokenty picked up the map again and looked over the points that Masha had marked. “Can I hold onto this for a couple of days? If I think of something, I’ll call you.”

“Take it. I can make another copy.” Masha smiled happily.

She loved it when Innokenty took her up on a riddle. It felt like they were kids again, conspiring together. Of course, Kenty was all grown up now, a prominent antiquarian, as he called himself. He owned a private gallery downtown, and judging by his designer shoes and the platinum cuff links on his bespoke shirts, monogrammed A. I. for Innokenty Arzhenikov, Kenty’s little shop was bringing in some money. Yes, her old friend had become quite a dandy, and since Masha had never moved beyond her simple black wardrobe, people often wondered at the odd pair. And they were both so different from everyone else, such introverts. Masha knew he deserved all the credit for their relationship lasting all these years.

“What does that map remind me of?” Innokenty murmured as he directed the last bite of cake into his mouth. “No, it’s hopeless. I’m never going to remember with my stomach this full.”