When Komarov burned him once more, Lazlo imagined himself floating a hundred meters above Kiev, its residents asleep below.
Close by, as he floated, was the statue of Saint Vladimir. Lazlo prayed to Saint Vladimir for assistance. Saint Vladimir, who performed baptisms in the Dnieper River, could help him.
When Komarov burned him yet again, Lazlo laughed aloud, heard himself laughing and tried to stop. But he could not stop because now, in this place and in this time, laughing was his weapon.
Perhaps someone nearby would pay attention to his laughter. Perhaps the captain…
For a moment Lazlo thought of his small corner cubicle at Kiev Militia Headquarters. Down the narrow walkway between cubicles, Chief Investigator Chkalov sits in his office. Chkalov’s fat face smiling as he piles on yet another case because of the Gypsy’s bachelor status. But then Lazlo recalled dreaming this dream in the summer in the wine cellar. Dreaming the dream until he heard the wooden ladder at the entrance creak and saw bare legs and feet encased in red canvas sneakers descending the ladder. Mihaly.
In the village the only lighted window was on the lower floor of the Kisbor Hotel. Juli went into the small hotel lobby and rang the bell. After a few minutes, a tired-looking woman came out of a back room. The woman looked to Juli, looked up at the clock on the wall, looked back to Juli.
“Can you tell me where the Horvath farm is?”
“Horvath? It’s not there anymore. Their cousin…”
“Yes. I forgot. Sandor. Can you tell me where the Sandors live?”
The woman glanced about the small lobby as if looking for someone, but the lobby was empty. She went to the front window and stared outside. “Why do you want to know?”
“I’m a relative,” said Juli. “I know it’s late. I had trouble getting here. I was evacuated from Chernobyl, and they’re waiting for me.”
The woman stepped back, stared at Juli for a moment, a look of concern on her face. Then she pointed west out the window. “Take the street out of town. When it becomes gravel, it will curve and go up a hill. The house is at the top of the hill.”
The woman turned back to Juli. “There have been men here.
Perhaps you should wait until morning.”
“I have to go now.”
“Is there anything you need?” asked the woman.
Juli realized the woman was looking at her tattered clothing.
“A drink of water.”
When Juli drove away in the Skoda, she could see the woman still standing at the window holding the empty glass.
Juli drove the Skoda to where the main street ended. Ahead she saw the dark outline of the hill against the stars. Atop the hill she could see the faint light from a window.
She parked the Skoda in an alleyway between two shops. She locked the doors and began walking up the road to the house on the hill.
The two Gypsies held their reddened faces high to relieve the burns on their necks. Komarov had allowed them to rest long enough.
Captain Brovko sat in the chair across from him. Brovko’s eyes were closed, but when Komarov stood, Brovko opened his eyes.
Komarov walked to the center of the room where the Gypsies sat. Bela had pissed his pants, and the room smelled of urine and cigarette smoke. The smell of burnt flesh had diminished. Komarov reached inside his coat, felt his knife there, but instead of taking out the knife, he removed his pistol from its shoulder holster. He carried his pistol to the kitchen table, where he had placed Horvath’s pistol beside the silenced record player. He held both pistols, comparing them.
“I see we both carry 9mm pistols, Detective Horvath. Yours is a Makarov, while mine is a Walther West German model. A more significant difference between our pistols is that yours appears to have seen a lot more action. I wonder how many victims there have been.”
Komarov put his Walther back in its holster and carried the battered Makarov with him as he approached the prisoners. He kept his questions simple. He asked Bela where the women and children had gone. He asked Horvath where Juli Popovics was. He repeated the questions loudly and clearly. When he received nothing more than a sneer from Horvath, he smashed the barrel of the pistol across Horvath’s face.
“Stop!” shouted Bela.
“No!” said Horvath. “Say nothing.” Then to Komarov, Horvath said, “You’ve got me. Let him go. He has nothing to do with this.”
“Your accomplice is still on the loose,” said Komarov. “These people were obviously prepared to hide you. Was your sister-in-law also involved in Chernobyl sabotage? Did she run away because she has something to hide? Technical knowledge of exactly how her husband caused the accident and how he’d planned to escape? Only he didn’t escape! And now…”
“You’re insane!” shouted Horvath.
Komarov hit Horvath with his pistol again. And when Horvath appeared to lose consciousness, he hit Bela.
“Tell me where they are!” repeated Komarov over and over.
“Tell me where they are!”
When Komarov felt a hand on his shoulder, he turned and saw Brovko staring at him.
“Major, I think it’s time to stop. It’s almost dawn.”
“What do I care what time it is?”
“I thought you might have lost track of time. It’s been a long night. The men are still outside and…”
“The men? You have the nerve to defend idiots who let women and children escape from under their noses?”
“I’m not defending them, Major. I was simply wondering how long this will go on.”
“It will go on, Captain, until these traitors tell me what I need to know or until their faces are changed into borscht.”
“I’m sorry, Major, I don’t understand why we need the women and children. We’ve got Horvath. Nothing has been proven. We should take Horvath back to Kiev now and…”
“Captain! Perhaps you would like to speak directly to Vladimir Kryuchkov at the Lubyanka in Moscow after we leave this cesspool of a farm and find out who is in control!”
Brovko spoke calmly. “I was not aware your authority reached such high levels, Major. Of course, you are in control.”
Komarov turned around, saw both Horvath and Bela looking at him. Both had heard his officer question his actions. Instead of shooting Horvath, the men had let him get inside. Then Brovko had hurried in, interrupting his chance to shoot Horvath and have it appear he was defending himself. No one had been killed. But if there were an escape attempt…
“You may go now, Captain.”
“You don’t want me to stay?”
“Correct. Please leave immediately.”
Komarov turned, watched Brovko move for the door. He released the safety on Detective Horvath’s pistol. As he aimed at Brovko’s back, he wondered if he would be able to unlock Horvath’s handcuffs before any other men arrived. He wondered if he would have time to make it look like an escape attempt. During his moment of hesitation, the door opened inward, causing Brovko to step back.
Nikolai Nikolskaia stood in the doorway, staring at the pistol aimed at Brovko’s back.
Komarov lowered the pistol, spun around, and fired all eight rounds at the feet of Horvath and Bela. When it was over, no one had been hit, but Bela was weeping.
Komarov turned back to Brovko and Nikolskaia. “I hope I did not frighten you. I simply wanted the traitors to know that I am serious!”
Because cars and a van were parked in front of the house, Juli went off the road and climbed the remainder of the hill through the weeds.
When she got closer, she saw several men near the cars. There was also a man at the side of the house, and one in back.
Maybe Lazlo hadn’t arrived yet. Or maybe he had arrived and had been able to kill Komarov. If so he would have had to escape, unless…
No. Lazlo would have escaped. Lazlo would have shot Komarov and run out the door. But where could he go with all the guards and no place to hide? No place to hide except the wine cellar he had told her about.