*
When Porfiry returned to his chambers, holding aloft an untidily bandaged hand, he found that Nikodim Fomich had been joined by the police clerk Zamyotov.
‘There is someone to see you. A young lady. She does not have an appointment. However, she insists that she is a friend of yours.’ Zamyotov tilted his head back in a display of scepticism.
‘A claim which we may easily verify, Alexander Grigorevich. Please show her in.’
Nikodim Fomich raised both eyebrows enquiringly and watched the door with interest. A moment later, Maria Petrovna came through it.
Porfiry was aware of Nikodim Fomich watching him closely as he greeted the young lady, which made his welcome more stilted than it otherwise might have been. He sensed an unexpected coldness in Maria Petrovna, as if she too felt similarly constrained. He craved her gaze, just a flash of her brilliant eyes in his direction, for him alone, but she withheld it. He wondered if it was not so much the presence of Nikodim Fomich as the recollection of how they had parted, and with what emotion, that inhibited her.
He saw that she held a copy of the St Petersburg Gazette, which seemed to act as a further constraint on her. She appeared uncertain what to do with it, yet it was clear that she had brought it with some purpose. She cast sharp, almost wary glances at Nikodim Fomich as she fumbled with it.
Porfiry was attuned to her unease. ‘May I introduce Nikodim Fomich, Chief Superintendent of the Haymarket District Police Bureau.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Nikodim Fomich. Perhaps you know my father, Pyotr Afanasevich Verkhotsev?’
‘Our two departments from time to time engage in joint endeavours.’ An edge of wariness crept into Nikodim Fomich’s usually affable tone.
Maria Petrovna relaxed enough to smile. ‘And the rest of the time, regard one another with mutual suspicion. I know how it is.’
‘Not at all!’ But Nikodim Fomich’s uneasy smile belied his words.
‘Please sit down, Maria Petrovna.’ Porfiry gestured with his damaged hand towards the brown sofa. ‘Perhaps you would care for some tea?’
Maria Petrovna did not sit down. ‘No, thank you. I did not come here for tea.’
Porfiry absorbed her abruptness with a pained smile. ‘Nikodim Fomich?’
‘As you have gone to so much trouble, I will take a glass with you.’
Porfiry looked uncertainly at the samovar. ‘Ah. I seem to have forgotten something.’
‘What?’
‘The tea liquor. Zakhar always took care of such things.’
‘Please, Porfiry Petrovich, do not trouble yourself any further.’
‘It will only take a moment.’
‘No, no. You must attend to your guest …’
Porfiry hesitated. Then bowing stiffly to Maria, he said: ‘You have remembered something concerning Yelena Filippovna?’
‘It is not that.’ Maria’s voice hardened with remembered grievance. But her eyes tracked his bandaged hand and she frowned. ‘You have hurt yourself?’
‘It is nothing.’ Porfiry could not keep a small flicker of pleasure from his lips. Neither could he resist a proud, vindicated glance at Nikodim Fomich. He was somewhat put out, however, by the carelessness with which Maria accepted his demurral.
‘Have you seen the Gazette?’ She thrust the paper forward. The hardened, unmistakably aggressive tone had returned to her voice. ‘Yelena Filippovna’s murder is turning you into something of a celebrity, Porfiry Petrovich.’
‘That’s hardly fair, Maria Petrovna. Nikodim Fomich and I were just talking about the newspaper reports. They are far from flattering. Was I not charged with bumbling incompetence?’
‘No, that was me,’ said Nikodim Fomich. ‘You were ineffectual. Really, these journalists …’
‘Thank you, Nikodim Fomich. I confess I only glanced at the piece. However, such articles are helpful when we are trying to locate a suspect. They serve to alert the public. After all, the Gazette is extremely widely read. There is a description of Captain Mizinchikov, I believe? And do we not also call for him to give himself up? All that is standard procedure in such cases.’
‘You are also quoted as saying that you are …’ Maria Petrovna scanned the front page to read in an accusatory tone, ‘devoting all my energies to the single imperative of finding Miss Polenova’s murderer.’
Porfiry blinked uncertainly. His mouth contracted into a questioning shape. ‘Is that not what you would have me do? I understood she was your friend.’
‘And what of Mitka?’ Her voice rose sharply in pitch. ‘Can you tell me how your enquiries into Mitka’s disappearance are progressing? Will you, I wonder, have energy remaining to devote to that?’
‘Who is Mitka?’ asked Nikodim Fomich.
‘I see you have not even deemed it necessary to discuss the case with the Chief Superintendent.’
‘Forgive me, Maria Petrovna. The murder of Yelena Filippovna has proven unusually distracting, I admit. And a murder is necessarily given precedence over a missing persons case. The presence of a dead body does have a galvanising effect on policemen.’
‘Particularly when it is the body of a beautiful woman with society connections,’ said Maria bitterly.
‘Hers was a conspicuous death, certainly,’ said Porfiry. ‘There is considerable pressure on us to bring the case to a swift and satisfactory conclusion. A killer is at large.’
‘And how many more children will have to go missing before you take Mitka’s disappearance seriously?’
‘I repeat, who is Mitka?’
‘Mitka is a boy,’ said Porfiry, ‘a factory worker and a pupil at Maria Petrovna’s school. He has gone missing. He is one of several children from the school to have gone missing. Maria Petrovna fears that the children may have come to some harm.’
‘I see,’ said Nikodim Fomich. ‘Then we must look into it. Have you discussed the case with Prokuror Liputin?’
‘I intend to raise it at our next meeting.’
‘I am glad to hear it, Porfiry Petrovich. As a father, crimes against children trouble me greatly.’
‘With respect, Nikodim Fomich, we have yet to determine for certain that a crime has been committed. You know how it is with missing persons.’
‘Nevertheless, as agents of the state, we stand in loco parentis to all the children of the empire.’
‘You do not need to remind me, Nikodim Fomich.’
‘So,’ insisted Maria Petrovna. ‘What do you intend to do about it?’
‘Well, Nikodim Fomich?’ said Porfiry. ‘Whom can we spare, bearing in mind the Prefect of Police’s exhortation?’
‘What about Pavel Pavlovich?’ put in Maria. ‘I feel sure that if you were to assign him to this investigation, he would pursue it with the greatest of diligence.’
Nikodim Fomich considered the suggestion. ‘Of course, it’s not for me to say. He does not work under my authority. What say you, Porfiry Petrovich?’
‘Yes, by all means.’ Porfiry’s answer came distractedly. There was a hesitant catch in his voice.
‘You will direct him, of course,’ said Nikodim Fomich, as if to appease him.
Porfiry Petrovich appeared not to have heard. He was lost in an extended fit of blinking, at the end of which he flashed the mildest of recriminatory glances towards Maria Petrovna. He could not deny that he was disappointed she had not asked for him.
*
WANTED: EXPERIENCED AND DISCREET MANSERVANT FOR SOLITARY GENTLEMAN. APPLY IN WRITING TO CHIEF CLERK, DEPARTMENT FOR THE INVESTIGATION OF CRIMINAL CAUSES, HAYMARKET DISTRICT POLICE BUREAU, STOLYARNY LANE. REFERENCES REQUIRED.
‘What is this?’
‘The wording,’ said Alexander Grigorevich Zamyotov, with his accustomed terseness.
‘What wording?’
Zamyotov sighed heavily as he snatched the slip of paper back from Porfiry. ‘The wording for the advertisement that is to run in the St Petersburg Gazette. Situations Vacant. Domestics, Male. Nikodim Fomich authorised me to place it. He says that it is widely read, even if it is written by kikes. And he asked me to solicit your approval of the wording.’