She kicked off her high heels, walked round to the other side of the desk and pulled open the main drawer: Cuban cigars, a guillotine cigar cutter, condoms, a vibrator, a Markov automatic with its safety catch off, a photograph of Viktoriya. She held it up and studied it. She was finding it hard to focus and wondered if she would be able to make it back on stage. Maybe she could persuade Irina to take her place. Studying the image of her former competition, she wondered what was so special about her. She was good-looking, but then weren’t all the girls in Konstantin’s clubs? She knew that they had had an almighty row some time ago and he had thrown her out, but according to the other girls he had never roughed her up, ever, but how did they know. She put back the photo and picked up an old ID card. A man in his fifties with Brezhnev eyebrows stared up at her. She read his name out loud, ‘Pavel Pytorvich Antyuhin.’ She thought it looked like the same card Konstantin had been holding in his hand when she had re-entered the room after his old flame had been shown out. Maybe it had been her who had given it to him. Buried under a small notebook Adriana found what she was looking for, a small bag of white powder. Using the ID, she marshalled two lines on the desk and snorted them back in quick succession.
Recharged, she stood up and wiggled back on her shoes. The face of Antyuhin stared up at her from the desk. She picked it up again, puzzled. Who was he? Trouble, no doubt, for that too good whore ex of Konstantin.
Chapter 39
‘These are the proscribed, the supposed enemies of the state.’ Konstantin looked down the list. Someone had taken the trouble to put it into alphabetical order and head it Leningrad. On it were seven names: Gavrilov from the gorkom was there, marked with a tick, Artem, a deputy, a tick, the list went on with ticks and crosses… and Mikhail Dimitrivich Revnik, a cross.
‘They…’ said Vdovin. The famous they, thought Konstantin, ‘…want you to detain the ticks and eliminate the crosses.’
Vdovin gawped at him across his desk.
‘You signed up to it,’ Vdovin reminded him when Konstantin said nothing. ‘They can revoke that arms licence just as easily as they issued it.’
Vdovin was right in more ways than one. He could hardly back out now, not unless he wanted his own name added to the list. He would just have to make sure he covered his tracks.
‘For the record, I tried to change that cross to a tick. He wouldn’t wear it. He’s adamant, made a big point about it. He also said you can sequestrate his business and take over control of Leningrad Freight for good measure.’
Mikhail Revnik. It was an irony that that one-time-nothing had become public enemy number one. And over what… some fogged photographs? Before, keeping him alive might have mattered, but not now; he didn’t owe him or his ex-girlfriend anything. Hadn’t he even offered him a partnership and been laughed off? Konstantin took a lighter from his pocket, lit the list and watched it turn to ash.
‘And when does this all kick off?’
‘Imminently… East Germany is not going to be allowed to collapse.’
‘And how will I know?’ For the first time in years, Konstantin felt he was back taking orders from his old colonel again.
‘When I give you the code word.’
‘Which is?’
‘Stroika.’
12 OCTOBER 1989
Chapter 40
Viktoriya answered the phone.
‘I hope I haven’t caught you at an awkward time.’ It was Yuri. She had not heard his voice since the evening in Smolensk.
‘No, it’s fine.’ She looked at her watch: eight thirty in the morning.
‘I just wanted to say how much I enjoyed our evening and I hope we can do it again.’
‘Yes, that would be lovely.’
Indeed, she had thought of that evening a great deal. Not much had happened. They had kicked the snow, walked and talked and talked. She had hardly noticed the freezing temperature buried inside his coat. But back in Leningrad she had felt different, more settled, centred. It was hard to define, but she was sure it was to do with that evening.
‘Maybe when I’m back from Archangel.’
She hadn’t had the opportunity to tell him about her eavesdropper and was beginning to regret not having it removed. ‘I leave Moscow tomorrow for a few days; we can sort something out when I get back, maybe even go to Europe, if I can pull some leave. Yes,’ she found herself saying. ‘I could give you the grand tour.’
There was a pause as if he were weighing something up, trying to be careful with words. It occurred to her then that he might well suspect her phone being bugged; he couldn’t take the chance that it wasn’t.
‘Okay, I’ll let you plan it. It’s like what we were saying at the bar, now or never. Take care, Vika.’
She replaced the receiver and stood staring blankly at the wall going over his words. She should have felt delighted but somehow it did not ring true… now or never. They hadn’t talked about now or never. They’d talked about a potential coup and a tipping point. But, of course, that’s what he did mean. He must know or suspect something, and weren’t there all sorts of rumours flying around about what was going on in Eastern Europe?
A loud bang on her apartment door made Viktoriya jump. She switched on the security camera. Outside in the corridor three uniformed police stared up at her while another argued with her two bodyguards, waving a piece of official-looking paper at them.
Viktoriya pulled open the door.
‘Viktoriya Nikolaevna Kayakova?’ asked the one with the official-looking paper in his hand.
‘Yes.’
‘We have a warrant for your arrest in connection with the death of Pavel Pytorvich Antyuhin.’ The officer showed her the warrant and his badge.
‘I don’t know what you are talking about,’ she lied. How did they know? What could they know? Kostya wouldn’t have betrayed her, not when he was directly involved. ‘You’ve made some mistake.’
‘You’ll have to come with us, madam, I’m afraid. You can either do it peaceably or not.’
He stood there and stared at her, calmly, daring her to disobey him.
Vladimir stepped in between her and the police officer.
‘You’re not taking her anywhere.’
The last thing she wanted was a fight.
‘Vlad, it’ll be all right. I’ll sort this out; there’s clearly been some mistake. You can follow me to the police station. I was meant to meet Misha and Konstantin Ivanivich later. Will you please tell them straightaway what has happened?’ Indeed, she had no plan to meet Kostya that day, but maybe he could figure out what was going on.
Chapter 41
‘So where is she being held?’ asked Konstantin. He’d arrived unannounced five minutes before at Malaya Morskaya and been quickly ushered in to Misha’s office.
‘Leningrad Oblast Main Internal Affairs Directorate, GUVD,’ replied Ivan. Vladimir had just radioed through that they had moved her to police headquarters on Suvorovskiy Prospect.