‘The man whom Lvov thinks is local, to Kirov? Have you any idea who he is?’
Oskin shook his head. ‘There is one major gang here. Run by a man named Yatisyna, Lev Mikhailovich Yatisyna. If Lvov is right and there is a link with one of the big Moscow Families I think it would be through someone from the Yatisyna group. But it’s only my guess.’
‘Does Yatisyna have a record?’
There was another nod. ‘A lot of petty stuff, when he was young. Two more serious charges, of physical assault. Cleared on both occasions. Witnesses were intimidated against giving evidence.’
‘So there are photographs?’
The arrival of their food delayed Oskin’s answer. Natalia was conscious of Popov’s frown, at her question.
‘The photographs aren’t recent,’ said Oskin. ‘Eight, maybe nine years ago. That was the last time he was brought in.’
‘Still good enough,’ decided Natalia. ‘Let’s take them to Lvov tomorrow; photographs of everyone connected with Yatisyna, in fact. He might be able to identify someone.’ Natalia went through the pretence of eating, rearranging the food on her plate. It looked very good. She wished she was hungry. She was conscious of Oskin looking towards the door at each new arrival.
‘What are we going to do?’ demanded Oskin.
‘Stop it!’ said Popov. ‘What else?’
‘How?’
‘We don’t know yet,’ admitted Natalia.
‘With people from Moscow?’
‘Do you think that’s necessary?’
Oskin swallowed heavily, clearing a mouth he’d over-filled with pork and red cabbage. ‘Whatever you try to do will leak if you attempt it with local personnel.’
‘I could hand-pick a Moscow squad,’ Popov said, to Natalia. ‘It would guarantee security.’
‘When it’s all over I want Kirov cleared up! And cleared out!’ ordered Natalia, looking between the two men.
Oskin finished eating, neatly setting his knife and fork down but staying with his eyes on his half-finished plate. ‘I have a particular request. Something that’s very important.’ The voice was still high-pitched but practically at a whisper.
‘What?’ asked Popov.
‘I believe Lvov. That he and his family will probably be killed, either way. Coming to us… trying to get the people arrested… isn’t going to protect him enough. Just as there won’t be sufficient protection for me if I take part in whatever operation is mounted…‘
‘You mean you don’t want to take part?’ demanded Natalia.
For the first time Oskin smiled, a sad expression. ‘That wouldn’t protect me either. They know here I’m a Militia officer: know nothing could have been set up without my being involved. There’ll be retribution afterwards, whatever happens.’
Oskin had a wife and two sons, Natalia remembered, from the personnel file. ‘What then?’
‘A transfer back to Moscow. If I am not withdrawn I shall be killed. My family too. It wouldn’t just be the nuclear theft. I’d be blamed for the clean-up you’ve just ordered.’
Natalia was aware of the enquiring look from Popov. If Lvov were right and there was a Moscow Family as well as a local organized crime group involved then Oskin was hardly going to be any safer back in the capital. She let her mind run on, trying fully to assimilate what she was being told. Which was staggering – still difficult for her totally to believe – even if it were only half true. As it was equally impossible to believe that one provincial region and one provincial capital was unique in the corruption of its law and order mechanism. So there had to be others. Could the rot really be so bad? If it were – again, if it were only half true – the bad was inevitably going to overwhelm the good. Resulting in what? Chaos, she supposed: anarchic chaos. Too sweepingly catastrophic, she thought at once, refusing the despair. The situation – of which she still had no definite evidence, just the insistence of one very frightened and possibly paranoid man – in one town couldn’t be magnified by any over-active stretch of imagination into applying to a whole country, certainly not a whole country the size of Russia. Neither could, or should, the possibility of an enormous problem be overlooked. So what could she do? Hers was a specific division, in reality quite separate from the regular Militia and other law enforcement organizations, each of which had their own specific directors and chairmen ascending pyramid-fashion to the pinnacle upon which sat the Interior Minister himself. Did she have enough credible authority to emerge beyond her own department to make allegations other directors would inevitably infer to be criticism of their efficient control, organizational ability and honesty, both personal and professional? Natalia didn’t know the full answer. What she was sure about, without any doubt whatsoever, was that if she failed with this nuclear investigation, her own efficiency and organizational ability would be so destroyed she wouldn’t have any credibility left to achieve anything.
‘Well?’ finally prompted Popov, impatiently.
Natalia had been so immersed in her own reflections she momentarily had difficulty refocusing on what Oskin had asked. ‘You’ll be moved back to Moscow. You have my word.’
The tiny fat man straightened in his chair, as if relieved of a physical burden. ‘I am not a coward. Or a weak man.’
‘You’ve proved that already.’
‘It’s not easy to be honest in Russia. Much easier to be the other way.’
‘I know that.’
Popov stretched out a reassuring hand to Oskin’s shoulder. ‘You see! I told you it would be all right!’
Oskin kept his attention upon the door but did appear to relax, slightly. Natalia decided on the spot to move in a Moscow prevention squad hand-picked by Popov. To prevent any leakage of their movements, they would be helicoptered in at the last moment, although not to the airport. She and Popov would rely upon Oskin to designate somewhere close to the city or even nearer to Kirs itself, further to maintain the element of surprise. Trucks would be sent in advance, again from Moscow, for the final assault, with the helicopters kept on standby for any eventuality. Both men agreed Oskin could safely and without arousing suspicion get to Moscow for the final planning session by Natalia officially summoning him for reassignment talks, which was virtually the truth. Natalia agreed to the man’s family accompanying him then, to get them away from the area before the robbery attempt.
Natalia found herself instinctively employing her old debriefing techniques to take Oskin from the very beginning of Lvov’s disclosure, letting the man generalize as Popov had earlier generalized but then returning him to points of his story she wanted in more detail, hiding her disappointment at the final awareness that there was little more than what Popov had previously told her.
She didn’t have to hide it from Popov. He broke in as soon as Oskin began to repeat himself and Natalia reluctantly agreed they’d taken everything as far as they could, at that stage. The cautious Oskin left first with assurances to provide all the available photographs of the Yatisyna clan before their meeting the following day with Valeri Lvov. With Popov totally familiar with the city, it took the two men only minutes to fix a handover rendezvous.
Natalia accepted there was no reason for both of them to keep it. Popov said it would take him about an hour and Natalia decided to go to the cathedral, briefly shutting herself off from talk of murder and mass slaughter amid the incensed-calm of the baroque and filigreed church. She lit a candle for Sasha and then, upon second thoughts, added one from Popov and another for herself. She prayed for all their safety and for guidance in the immediate weeks to follow and still with time to spare sat half-listening to a black-bearded, black-robed prelate incanting the creed. She actually stayed longer than she should, reluctant to quit a sanctuary in which she felt cocooned and safe from the uncertainties outside.
Popov was already at the hotel when she got back, briefcase between his feet. He started up, the annoyance obvious. Before he could speak she said, ‘I’ve been to church. Prayed for us.’