The State Counsellor

He was only just in time. He ran into Pozharsky in the doorway of the head police-master's residence. The prince was agitated, clearly in a hurry, and not pleased by this unexpected encounter. He flung out a few words without even breaking his stride: 'Later, Erast, later. The crucial moment is at hand!'

However, the State Counsellor grasped his superior's sleeve in fingers of steel and pulled the prince towards him.

'For you, Mr Pozharsky, the crucial moment has already arrived. Why don't we go to the office?'

His attitude and tone of voice produced the required impression. Gleb Georgievich gave Fandorin a curious glance.

'What's this then - are we back on formal terms, Erast? That gleam in your eyes suggests you must have discovered something interesting. Very well, let's go. But for no more than five minutes. I have pressing matters to deal with.'

The prince's entire demeanour made it clear that he had no time for long explanations, and he did not take a seat, nor did he offer Fandorin one, although the covers had already been removed from the furniture in the office. But then, Erast Petrovich had no intention of sitting down, since he was in belligerent mood.

'You are a provocateur, a double agent and a state criminal,' he said in a cold fury, skipping through his consonants with no trace of a stammer. 'It was you, not Diana, and you communicated with the terrorists of the Combat Group by means of letters. You were responsible for Khrapov's death, you informed the terrorists about the Petrosov Baths, and you deliberately misinformed me about the snowdrift. You wanted to get rid of me. You are a traitor! Shall I present my evidence?'

Gleb Georgievich continued to regard the State Counsellor with the same expression of curiosity, taking his time before replying.

'I don't think there's any need,' he said after a long moment's thought. 'I believe that you do have evidence, and I have no time for wrangling. Naturally, I'm very curious about how you found out, but you can tell me about that some time later. Well, so be it, I extend the length of our conversation from five minutes to ten, but that's the most I can do. So get straight to the point. All right, I am a provocateur, a double agent and a traitor. I arranged Khrapov's assassination and a number of other remarkable stunts, up to and including a couple of attempts on my own life. Now what? What do you want?'

Erast Petrovich was taken aback, since he had been prepared for long and stubborn denials, and therefore the question that he had intended to ask at the very end had a rather pathetic ring as he stammered it out.

'B-But why? What d-did you want to achieve with all this scheming?'

Pozharsky began speaking with grating confidence: 'I am the man who can save Russia - because I am intelligent, bold and do not suffer from mushy sentiment. My enemies are numerous and powerfuclass="underline" on one side the fanatics of revolt, and on the other the stupid, fossilised swines in generals' uniforms. For a long time I had no connections, no protection. I would have fought my way to the top in any case, but too late: time is passing and Russia has very little of it left. That was why I had to hurry. The Combat Group is my adopted child. I nurtured that organisation, made its name and created its reputation. It has already given me everything it could, and now the time has come to put a full stop at the end of this story. Today I shall eliminate Green. The fame that I created for that uncompromising gentleman will help me rise a few steps higher and bring me closer to my ultimate goal. That's the gist of it, brief and unadorned. Is that enough?'

And you did all this for the salvation of Russia?' Fandorin asked, but his sarcasm was lost on the prince.

'Yes. And naturally for myself too. I make no distinction between myself and Russia. After all, Russia was founded a thousand years ago by one of my ancestors, and three hundred years ago another assisted in her revival.' Pozharsky thrust his hands into the pockets of his coat and swayed back on his heels. 'And don't think, Erast, that I am afraid of your revelations. What can you do? You have no one in St Petersburg. Your protector in Moscow has been overthrown. No one will believe you, no one will even hear what you say. You can't possibly have anything more than circumstantial evidence and assumptions. Will you go to the newspapers? They won't print it. This is not Europe, thank God. You know' - Gleb Georgievich lowered his voice confidentially - 'I have a revolver in my pocket and it is aimed at your stomach. I could shoot you. Right now, here in this office. I would proclaim that you were an agent for the terrorists, that you are linked with them through your little Jewish girl and you tried to kill me. In the present circumstances I should easily get away with it, I'd even get a medal. But I am opposed to unnecessary extravagance. There is no need to kill you, because you really are no danger to me. Choose, Erast: either play with me, by my rules, or make yourself look like a fool. Actually, there is a third way, which is probably more to your taste. Say nothing and retire quietly. You will at least retain the dignity that is so dear to you. So what is your choice? Play the game, play the fool or keep quiet?'

The State Counsellor turned pale, his eyebrows shifted up and down and his thin moustache twitched. The prince followed this internal struggle with a rather scornful expression, waiting calmly for its outcome.

'Well?'

All right,' Erast Petrovich said quietly. 'Since it is what you wish, I shall k-keep quiet

'Well, that's excellent.' The triumphant prince smiled and glanced at his watch. 'We didn't need ten minutes after all; five was enough. But do think about playing the game. Don't bury your talent in the ground, like the lazy, scheming servant described by Saint Matthew.'

So saying, the head police-master strode towards the door.

Fandorin gave a sudden start and opened his mouth to stop him, but instead of a loud call, all that emerged from his lips were four barely audible words:' "Eradicating evil with evil”

CHAPTER 16 The flash

Green would have to leave immediately after Pozharsky's execution. He had already decided how: by cab to Bogorodsky, get hold of some skis and cut across Losinoostrovsky Forest, bypassing the turnpikes, to Yaroslavl Highway. If he could just get out of Moscow, after that it was easy.

He regretted the wasted work. The bombs would have to be left behind again: the jar of explosive mixture was still half full, the tins were standing there, equipped with detonators and charged with shrapnel but not yet closed. They would only be an unnecessary burden.

His travelling bag contained nothing but the bare essentials: false documents, underwear, a spare revolver.

Needle was looking out of the window at the boarded-up palace. In a few minutes she would be leaving the house where she had grown up. Probably leaving it for ever.

Before she phoned the head police-master for a second time, Julie looked into his eyes and asked: 'Green, do you promise not to kill me?'

'If he comes.'

She crossed herself and called the exchange. 'Hello, Central? Forty-four twenty-two.'

This time Pozharsky was there.

'Gleb,'Julie said to him in a voice trembling with excitement. 'Darling, come here quickly, quickly. I only have one little moment, no time to explain. Prechistenka Street, the Dobrinsky estate, the wing with a mezzanine - you'll see it. Only come alone, you must be alone. I'll open the door for you. You simply can't imagine what I've got here. You'll kiss my pretty little hands. That's all, no more, I can't say any more!' And she cut off the phone.