“I spoke to him,” Korolev said. “But I’d no idea he was connected with Azarov.”
“And the others?”
“I spoke to no one else.”
“Your son did.”
“He went swimming with Goldstein is all. But Goldstein was the boy who assisted on that matter last year-the icon affair. You’ll recall he provided useful information.”
Rodinov considered this, tapping his pencil against his chin as he did so.
“And what did you speak to him about, this time? Did he provide you with more useful information? Or was it his friends who told your son what you wanted to know?”
“Have those orphans got something to do with the professor’s murder?”
“You don’t ask questions here,” the colonel said, and Korolev looked around at the chipped blue walls and the stained parquet flooring-and saw his point.
“I apologize, Comrade Colonel. Goldstein just happened to be there at the riverbank and so were we. It was a chance meeting-no more than that. If anyone has informed you to the contrary, they’re mistaken.”
“And the zoo? Who were you talking to there?”
“The Zoo? Count Kolya? But he came to me-I didn’t go looking for him.”
“So that was Count Kolya? The Thief?”
Korolev nodded.
“I see, the report doesn’t mention that fact-perhaps they didn’t know who he was.”
Rodinov looked pleased-which struck Korolev as odd. The colonel wrote a quick note.
“And what did Count Kolya want to talk to you about?”
“He told me if I was investigating Azarov’s murder, I should find out what he was up to at the institute. I explained I wasn’t involved with the matter anymore. That it was State Security business. And that was that.”
“And you didn’t think to report this to someone here?”
Korolev shrugged his shoulders.
“It was made clear to me that the institute was run under the auspices of the NKVD-so I thought they’d know what was going on there better than anyone. My orders were very specific, Comrade Colonel-I was to have no further involvement in the case whatsoever or there would be consequences.”
In his youth he’d been to more than one livestock market with the butcher he’d worked for. Back then he’d seen men weigh cattle with their eyes, and Korolev felt as though a similar kind of assessment were taking place now-only this time he was the bullock in the ring.
“Very well,” the colonel said, after what seemed like several hours but probably wasn’t more than a few seconds, then pushed a cigarette case across the desk to Korolev.
“Help yourself,” he said, and Korolev did, thinking he’d never needed a smoke more in his entire life. “There’s been another murder,” the colonel said, lighting his cigarette and then leaning across to light Korolev’s. “Which, as it happens, is good news for you.”
“I see,” Korolev said and had to stop himself from laughing out loud, so great was the release of tension. For a moment the colonel seemed about to say something, then appeared to think better of it. Instead he opened one of the files on his desk and passed a photograph across the table. Korolev recognized the man in the picture-what was his name again?
“Doctor Shtange-Professor Azarov’s deputy,” Rodinov said, and Korolev had the oddest thought. What if Azarov had invented some way of reading people’s minds? What if Rodinov was able to hear his thoughts as clear as if he were speaking them aloud? Is that what he’d been up to?
“What’s wrong?” Rodinov asked, frowning, and Korolev cursed himself. He had to concentrate, remember where he was-not allow his mind to wander.
“Nothing-it’s just, I met the man, that’s all. Only a day or two ago.”
“Someone stabbed him to death the same morning you went to the zoo.”
Korolev inhaled a lungful of smoke and held it there, before releasing it slowly.
“Well?” the colonel asked.
“The director and deputy director of the same scientific institute murdered within a day of each other? It’s unlikely to be a coincidence.”
Rodinov smiled and picked up the photograph, putting it back into the folder.
“I agree.”
“The NKVD is investigating the matter though,” Korolev said, and despite his best intentions it came out as more of a question than a statement.
“Yes. A different department has been handling the matter but it was transferred to this department-where it should have been all along-a few hours ago. The file, which isn’t much use otherwise, it has to be said, contained a series of reports from operatives that were, curiously, ordered to keep track of your activities. Perhaps there was some suspicion that you’d carry on your own investigation. You do have a reputation for doing things a little differently to other detectives, I suppose.”
“But-” Korolev began.
“Fortunately for you, I know that your methods are successful and, most importantly, accurate. Our men are stretched thin and have a tendency to adopt-well-imprecise solutions.” Rodinov gestured with his cigarette to indicate the bruises and bumps certain State Security men had left Korolev with.
“The more I think about it, the more I like the idea of you taking up the investigation once again. With you in charge, we’re more likely to find out who actually killed the scientists and why. With our people-well, they’ll find someone who’ll admit to the crime, certainly.”
Rodinov smiled-it seemed the thought amused him-before becoming serious once again.
“But these two were important to the State-so an accurate understanding of the situation is necessary. And you seem the ideal candidate for that job.”
“I’m ready to do my duty, of course,” Korolev began, and didn’t know quite where to go from there.
“You don’t sound very enthusiastic, Korolev.”
“You’ll forgive me, Comrade Colonel, but it was made clear to me this was a case involving State secrets. I’m an ordinary Militia detective-I just don’t have the authority to investigate such matters.”
The colonel picked up a piece of paper and handed it across the table to him. It had an NKVD letterhead and Korolev could see his name in the text, beneath which had been applied three signatures and three ink stamps. One he didn’t recognize, another was Rodinov’s, and the third belonged to Nikolai Ezhov-the People’s Commissar for Internal Affairs and, some said, the most powerful man in the Soviet Union after Stalin.
“It’s been decided that you’ll work, temporarily, for this department. As you can see, this letter gives you all the authority you need.”
Korolev didn’t dare ask which department of State Security this might be, and anyway, he was struggling to come to terms with the idea that he was about to become a temporary Chekist. It wasn’t an outcome he’d expected when that blond oaf had been kicking him in the guts.
“Have you any further questions? You may speak freely, there should be openness between us-now that we are colleagues.”
It was a statement that invited Korolev to put his cards on the table-and there was something in the colonel’s demeanor that told him it was safe to do so-perhaps safer than not doing so anyway.
“Comrade Colonel, I only know the work Azarov did was related to the brain. Kolya suggested to me that some of his research was on humans and I got the impression he thought things didn’t go well for the men involved. Of course, I don’t believe that-I’m only repeating a Thief’s slander of the State. But if it were true…”
“My understanding is Professor Azarov applied scientific methodology to our interrogation techniques,” Rodinov said in a neutral voice. “And that his research was successful-our effectiveness had improved immeasurably as a result. But Azarov’s research wasn’t limited to that. I’ve heard he worked with various pharmaceutical substances, examining how they might affect the human mind; and I believe he also carried out a series of experiments into attitude alteration-turning enemies into friends, if you will. Telepathy was another area he may have investigated. The truth is I don’t know as much as a person in my position would expect to know. In my opinion the institute’s activities have been-well-a little too secret. But I do know that, yes, people died as a result of his research.”