Opposite Pankov sat the uniformed Major Grigorovich, a solid, ambitious block of a man in his early forties who saw himself as the eventual heir to the Wolfhound and took pride in his ability to keep Snitkonoy from feeling threatened while making clear to his colleagues that he, Major Andrei Grigorovich, was no fool. On his second day with the Wolfhound, Rostnikov had commented to his wife, Sarah, that Grigorovich looked a bit like a slightly overweight version of the British actor Albert Finney. Occasionally during these briefing sessions, Rostnikov would draw little caricatures of Grigorovich, Pankov, Snitkonoy, or one of the others who sometimes joined them to give reports.
It was believed among all who attended the sessions that the Washtub, Rostnikov, was taking detailed notes on everything everyone said. Rostnikov's reputation as a criminal investigator added an air of intimidation to the morning meetings, and much speculation existed over why he had been assigned to basic criminal investigation. Pankov, who shared his views with everyone who would listen, was convinced that Rostnikov was there to evaluate the Gray Wolfhound. Pankov knew that if the Wolfhound fell, so would he. Therefore, Pankov was ever alert to undermine suggestions Rostnikov. might make, while at the same time trying to keep Rostnikov from knowing what he was doing because Rostnikov might well later hurt those who had given him trouble. This difficult position resulted in Pankov's seldom speaking at the meetings for fear of offending anyone. Grigorovich was convinced that Rostnikov was being considered to replace the Wolfhound, or at least to be tested against Grigorovich to determine which man should, either soon or in the distant future, move up a notch.
Snitkonoy, on the other hand, simply assumed that Rostnikov had been assigned to him so that he, Rostnikov, could learn the nuances of leadership that he lacked so he could return to the Procurator's Office at some point in the future with a new sense of purpose and the inspiration provided by his association with Snitkonoy.
And that was the situation that prevailed in the room when the three men at the table were asked for their thoughts. It was evident to all of them that their real thoughts were the last things they would give in this room. It was also evident to Rostnikov that none of them had really been paying attention to the Wolfhound.
"We must continue to tighten up on our efficiency," Pankov said, taking the easy, abstract route and pounding his small fist into his palm for emphasis.
"Yes," said the Gray Wolfhound with tolerance but no enthusiasm. "Major?"
"We must have an adequate termination of a greater percentage of our cases, our responsibilities," said Grigorovich, looking at Rostnikov, who continued to frown at the pad of paper on which he was doodling.
"Paperwork, evidence, must be more complete, investigations better documented, before we turn each case over to the Procurator's Office for prosecution or further investigation," Grigorovich went on.
"Yes," Pankov agreed.
"Comrade Inspector," the Wolfhound said, snapping the pointing finger of his right hand at Rostnikov. "Your views? You have had time to gather your thoughts. Perhaps your delay this morning was due to your diligence in preparing for this meeting?"
"This morning," said Rostnikov slowly, his eyes coming up from the poor copy of Gogol's statue he was working on, "a man leaped to his death from the new Gogol statue."
The silence was long as they waited for Rostnikov to continue. Outside and below them, in the police-dog compound, a German shepherd began to bark and then suddenly went quiet. When it became evident that Rostnikov had no thoughts of continuing, Snitkonoy prodded as he stepped back and tilted his head.
"And the point of this, Comrade Inspector?"
Grigorovich and Pankov turned their eyes to Rostnikov, who sighed, shrugged, and looked up.
"I wondered what would so frighten a man that he would do a thing like that," Rostnikov mused. "Leap headfirst to the pavement. Crush his skull like an overripe tomato."
"Was there some evidence of intimidation, some suggestion of murder?" Pankov asked, wondering if this were some kind of test by Rostnikov.
"It's not important," Rostnikov said, pushing the pad away. "Might I suggest that we proceed to the case list and make the assignments?"
The Wolfhound was puzzled, but the Wolfhound was better than a professional actor. His eyes fixed knowingly, sympathetically, on Rostnikov, as if he knew exactly what was on the inspector's mind. Then he turned his eyes to the neat black vinyl folder in front of him. The colonel opened the file, now anxious to go through the routine and get the brooding Rostnikov out of the room. He had hoped for a concluding half hour or more of philosophical musing and teaching, but Rostnikov had poisoned the atmosphere.
Snitkonoy flipped open the folder and scanned the list of new cases for the morning. All had already been assigned to the investigators who took the initial calls, except for three that had been appropriated by the KGB. Those cases had thick black lines through them, lines so thick and so black that one could make out no trace of a single letter designating the case. The Wolfhound's gray eyes scanned the list and then he grinneda private, knowing grinas he passed out copies of the new case list to the three men in the room.
"Comrades, do you see anything of special concern on this list? Any cases you would like transferred to other investigators? Concentrated upon?"
It was the routine morning speech, but the list was not routine for Rostnikov, who had expected simply to be assigned to an additional case or two without great consequence or meaning. And then his eye caught the description of Case Number 16. He let his head come up lazily, hiding his reaction. A show of enthusiasm or real interest might doom his chances. The very fact that he wanted the case might be reason enough for the Wolfhound to demonstrate his power and assign it to someone else.
"Number five," Grigorovich said. 'The increased activity of assaults on old people near the war memorial suggests…"
It went on like that for twenty minutes. Rostnikov made a point about reexamination of the evidence from a family murder the week before. He supported Grigorovich's interest in the assault case and, though he thought it was idiotic, nodded in agreement when Pankov suggested a consolidation of four cases, all of which dealt with reports of illegal sales of vodka. There was clearly no relationship among the cases other than the recent interest in alcoholism that Gorbachev had been pushing for the past year. It was fashionable to denounce alcoholism.
Now that Grigorovich and Pankov each owed him something, Rostnikov made his move.
"Number thirty-four," he said. "The report of several assaults in parks. It may be a pattern. Other than that, nothing seems to need further attention, though there are a few cases that might be worth a minor review of initial investigation. Numbers" he scanned the list casually "three, twelve, sixteen, and twenty-four."
The other three men scanned the list and nodded, not seeing anything worth checking in any of the cases, but not wanting it to seem as if they had missed something.
"Fine," sighed the Wolfhound, closing his vinyl file, placing it on the table, and slapping his palm against it. "If you have time, Comrade Inspector, you can review initial investigations on those cases. Number thirty-four, the assaults, I think should be supervised by Sergei Pankov."
Pankov smiled in triumph, and Rostnikov and Grigorovich nodded in agreement.