I shrugged modestly and hoped that there was nobody in Grushko's family who spoke German. The chocolate was already two years past its sell-by date. But then, even two-year-old chocolate is better than no chocolate at all.
The next morning everyone was in early to hear Grushko describe the evening's operation in the briefing-room. The OMON squad attended, as did General Kornilov, Lieutenant Khodyrev and Captain Novdyrov of the GAI the State Automobile Inspectorate. Alek manned the lights, Andrei the blinds and Sasha operated the slide projector. Nikolai had driven over to ASA.
May I have your attention, please,' said Grushko. This afternoon's realisation, codename Meathook, will be commanded by me and will commence at 1600 hours.'
He reached up and drew down a map of St Petersburg and its surrounding area.
There are two stages to this operation,' he explained. The first stage is as follows: Captain Novdyrov's GAI will take up a position about fifteen kilometres south of Gatcina on the M20 to Pskov. At the same time a unit of the OMON squad, myself and Nikolai, will take up a position about five kilometres further north. Just before the airport there's a Sovinterauto service station and next to it a sort of lay-by and a line of trees.
When the convoy passes the GAI, a patrol car will pursue it and bring the tail vehicle to a halt as close to our position as possible. We'll be parked behind the trees so they won't see us. The GAI men will ask the driver and his mate to step out of the cab and follow them to the rear of the vehicle, on the pretext of a faulty brake-light. But when they get there they'll find two OMON squad officers, myself and Nikolai waiting for them. Having persuaded them not to continue with their journey '
Grushko paused for their laughter.
Nikolai and I will take their places in the truck cab. Right now he should be familiarising himself with one of the Anglo-Soyuzatom trucks that's currently off the road.
We will then follow the rest of the convoy and, using walkie-talkies, we will direct the main force of the OMON squad to wherever they are planning to unload the stolen meat. We're not sure as to how many men the other side will be fielding; however you can bet they'll all be well-armed and more inclined to shoot than not. But according to our informers, there are three faces we do expect to see.' He nodded at Alek. Lights, please.'
Sasha switched the projector on. The first slide was of a mug-shot from the files.
Kazimir Cherep, also known as the Little Cossack,' said Grushko. A team leader for the Ukrainian gang here in Peter. Born Kiev, 1958. Served five years in the zone for attempted murder. And the next one, please, Sasha.'
Sasha moved the second slide into the projector.
Stepan Starovyd, born Dnepropetrovsk, 1956, also known as the Wrestler on account of his having once been the army heavyweight wrestling champion. He would have gone to the Olympics but for drugs charges that earned him two years in the zone. But rope swallower or not, he's a big boy, so don't let him put his arms around you.
These two men were almost certainly responsible for the murders of Mikhail Milyukin, Vaja Ordzhonikidze and one other man. So you can imagine how keen we are to get hold of them. Sasha?'
Grushko's audience looked at the third face from Criminal Records.
Volodimir Khmara. Born Zaporozje, 1955. A known black-marketeer. One conviction for theft. This is the character who has been selling the contaminated meat to the cooperative restaurants in Peter. And the last one, please, Sasha.'
The fourth and last photograph was different from the previous mugshots. It was a longer-distance shot of an older man wearing a black leather coat and getting out of a Mercedes that was parked in front of the Maryinsky Theatre, home of the Kirov Opera and Ballet.
Last, but by no means least, we have Viktor Bosenko. Born Dnepropetrovsk, 1946. Also known as the Black Swan because of his reputed love of the ballet. One conviction for currency offences during the late 1970s, but nothing since then. We've long suspected that Bosenko is the godfather who runs the whole Ukrainian underworld here in Peter. We don't actually know how much he's directly involved in this particular crime, but the chances are he knows about it. So take a good look at that face just in case he should put in an appearance.' Grushko looked over at Andrei, Can we have the blinds up, please?'
Sasha switched off the projector while Andrei lifted the blinds.
Any questions?'
One of the OMON squad men raised his hand.
Why the switch?' he said. Wouldn't it be simpler just to follow them?'
We can't take the chance that when the convoy reaches the city it won't be watched by the Mafia. If they see a tail then that'll be it finished. We would use a helicopter but for the fact that the air force refused to lend us one unless we let them control the whole realisation. Which would probably mean them taking the credit.'
There was a murmur of outrage and disbelief. Another hand went up.
Won't you be recognised through the windscreen, sir?'
No, the windscreen is protected by armoured louvres.'
Another hand,
After the realisation, what's going to happen to all that meat?'
I'm glad you've asked me that,' said Grushko. On no account must anyone touch any of the meat.'
There was a loud groan of disappointment at this particular piece of news. Grushko raised his voice.
The meat is radioactive, he said. 'Let me be quite clear about this: the meat is unfit for human consumption.
That never stopped anyone,' quipped someone.
It may look all right,' Grushko continued, but, to quote an old saying, never believe what you can see with your own eyes.a__ I discussed the matter with General Kornilov and he agrees with me that the best thing would be if Anglo-Soyuzatom Transit were to dispose of the meat in the same way that they already dispose of other nuclear waste. So let's leave it to the experts, shall we?'
In another place, at another time, we might have been more shocked to discover the whole character of the crime that had brought about the death of Mikhail Milyukin. This cynicism is not just attributable to our low expectations of the Mafia. It is also referable to our inherent national distrust of the most ordinary commodities. For everyone except foreigners, the consumption of food and drink has become increasingly hazardous. Even something as ordinary as water is not to be relied upon: nobody is ever foolish enough to drink the tea that is laughingly called tap-water without boiling it very thoroughly. The same caution cannot be said to apply to alcohol substitutes, however, which annually claim the lives of thousands of people.
Food scares are common enough. Just before I went to St Petersburg, Muscovite health-inspectors had found dead dogs and cats being sold as rabbit meat in the Rozhdestvenska Street market. And most people are becoming used to the sight of reporters from national TV filming Chernobyl chickens the radiation-mutated two-headed variety in the state meat markets.
High levels of pesticides and nitrates mean that fruit and vegetables are no less hazardous than meat. One radio journalist has estimated that a person can commit suicide by eating fifteen cucumbers. Many shoppers carry small chemical-detection kits strips of chemically sensitive paper that enable the housewife to take a quick toxicity reading before purchase.
Of course for many of us probably it is already too late. Our pale grey skins and red eyes, so different from those of sleek and healthy foreigners, seem to indicate as much. My own father died of cancer at the age of only forty-seven. My mother is virtually crippled with bronchitis. My sister, with whom she lives, has an incurable liver disease from years of hard drinking.
At the Central Board's hospital in Moscow they told me that I have high blood pressure and advised me to give up salt. I said that I never touched the stuff: life was already quite bitter enough without adding any salt to it. Then the doctor charged with making my medical report listened to my lungs and suggested that I might try to cut down on my smoking. He had a cigarette in his mouth at the time. I had read about this thing in the West called passive smoking' and asked him if he had heard of it.