Secret Target

7

Elena got home after midnight. Her daughter was already asleep. In the kitchen, the TV hummed at low volume. Her mother, Olga Ivanovna Gracheva, was waiting for her so that she could go home. Her house was next door. If Elena’s ex-husband had not arranged for her mother to live next door after Nastya was born, Elena would have long since had to quit the her job.

«Catch a lot of killers? Or was it rapists today?» buzzed Mrs. Gracheva pouring the tea. Her tone indicated that a serious conversation was coming. Elena knew the topic too: Normal people work so that they can live – not live so that they can work.

«I don’t want tea, mom. I’m just going to shower and go to bed.»

«Sergey called.» Mrs. Gracheva placed the cup in front of her daughter, like a cable bollard in front of a ship. «He’s inviting you and Nastya to go to Thailand with him during her Fall Break. He’ll pay for the tickets and book you a nice hotel.»

«What’s got into him?»

Sergey Petelin owned a transportation company that was always either on the up and up or barely making ends meet. Nonetheless, he made alimony payments promptly and was never stingy about it. Whenever he made any extra money, he’d bring Nastya expensive gifts and pay for vacations in warmer climes.

«I think he mentioned that he’ll get a room for himself in the same hotel.»

«So that he can show off another long-legged girl for my edification?»

«You have your mother’s legs, Lena! There are none better! But you get your temper from your father.» Mrs. Gracheva glanced at the television and turned it off but remained facing away from her daughter. «Have you called him recently?»

Lena figured that she meant her dad. Out of principle, neither the mother nor the daughter ever called their respective ex-husbands: Over time, they had crossed the lines of communication, as it were. Typically, the daughter would tell her father about how her search for Anatoly was going, while trying to usher him to a point where he’d tell her what had really happened that day. It didn’t work. Meanwhile, her mom had long since labeled the entire topic taboo. After her granddaughter was born, she had redirected all her unspent love toward her disappeared son at Nastya.

«I spoke to him last week.»

«And?»

«He’s living by himself, in case you care,» lied Elena to avoid tormenting her mother.

«Well, who’d give him a second look?» Mrs. Gracheva turned around and looked kindly at her daughter. Her voice became unctuous. «But Sergey, that’s a completely different matter. He’s intelligent, well-off and he loves little Nastya. Sure, he acted like a complete dog but that happens to the best of us. Now he’s suffering from loneliness and thinking of you, Lena. He’s been calling for a month straight, asking how he can fix things between you two.»

«And so you recommended we go to Thailand,» Elena grasped the larger picture.

«Why not? It’s a good excuse to start over. A romantic voyage.»

«What’s romantic about it?»

«Why, everything.» Mrs. Gracheva took a seat next to her daughter and turned serious. «I looked through your swimsuits. Really, you should be ashamed. You need new ones – a one-piece and a two-piece. Also a light dress. Though, you can probably find one in Thailand. I’m sure Sergey will be happy to get it for you as a present.»

«Can you just leave me out of this? If you think he’s so generous, why don’t you go to Thailand with him and Nastya?»

«What do I have to do with it? Sergey wants to see you, not me.»

«It would do you good to get out to the beach. I won’t even be able to get the time off. They won’t let me go.»

«I want to see them try. I’ll go to your boss and let him have it.»

«I told you: I don’t want to, mom.»

«You still can’t forgive him?» Mrs. Gracheva shook her head. «It’s been four years since the divorce.»

«And? Sergey spent the four years before that tumbling around with his sluts, following the example set by his drivers.»

«Have you considered that, maybe, it’s you who is to blame? It’s always work, work, work with you. You come home and pass out. Who could live with a woman like that?»

«That’s enough,» Elena boiled over. «Go home! I want to sleep.»

Mrs. Gracheva stood up, shuffled to the door and stopped.

«Think about it, Lena. Sergey isn’t a bad guy and he has money. Where are you going to find another one like that at thirty-five? And don’t forget about Nastya. The girl needs a father.»

«No one took her father away. And if I’ll need a husband, I’ll find him myself.»

«What?» The mother locked onto the daughter suspiciously. «Are you still thinking about your Tatar? About Marat? He wore out the bench down in our yard when you were in high school and wiped our windows clean with those black eyes of his. And now, like some curse, he’s come back around.»

Lena remembered how stubbornly Marat Valeyev worked to win her friendship. She remembered the shy kisses they exchanged at their senior prom. Her brother’s disappearance, her father’s arrest and her mother’s illness had all created distance between the classmates. Later, Lena found out that Marat had gotten married. Word had it that his parents had arranged it. There was no one to blame, but regret lodged itself like a splinter in the young girl’s soul. Years later, when she was already twenty-three, she ran into another classmate named Sergey Petelin. Sergey had become a businessman and was confident and assertive. Lena was afraid of becoming a spinster. That’s how Nastya came about – first a flustering miracle in her stomach, then a rushed wedding in a roomy dress.

«What does Marat have to do with this?» Elena flared. Her indignation, however, did not come out sounding very convincing.

«Don’t look away! You said yourself that Valeyev asked to move to your district on purpose.»

«He was transferred. That’s just work.»

«Where there’s work, there’s friendship. You know very well what men think about.»

«Come on, I haven’t seen Marat in ten years.»

«Uh-huh. You hear nothing from him for years, but as soon as he finds out that you’re divorced, he starts to put the moves on you.»

«His apartment is in our district. That’s why they transferred him there.»

«You’ve been to his apartment already?»

«Mom, we work together. Our paths cross. And even then, not often,» Lena added for some unknown reason.

«Forget about him, Lena. Forget him! You can’t even take him to a church.»

«I don’t go to church, mom!»

«I never went either. But as soon as I started getting sick, I started going. It’s never too late to come to God. It never hurts to ask Him – nothing bad can come of it. I prayed for you and Nastya – whose full name is Anastasia Sergeyevna, by the way. Now doesn’t that have a nice ring to it? But had you, in your foolishness, gotten mixed up with that Tatar, who would we have now? Nastya Maratovna? Yuck!»

«Enough!» Lena slapped the table. «I’m off to bed. Stay if you like. You know where the couch and the bed sheets are.»

She stood up and left the room without clearing the table.

«Think about the swimsuits, Lena,» her mother’s quiet grousing followed in her wake. «Check the magazines to see if you like any of the newer ones. And don’t be stingy. Swimsuits are like shoes – you should only get good ones. It wouldn’t hurt if you got some new underwear too. Maybe we can go do some shopping some time?»

8

The next morning, after a quick breakfast, Elena took her daughter to school. The twelve-year-old girl was just beginning to resist such custody, asserting that she would rather go with her friends, but for Elena these ten minutes were basically her only chance to find out anything about her daughter’s school life.

Rushing to her work, Detective Petelina began the workday by studying the contents of Inna Maltseva’s purse. Just like the friction ridges that create the unique swirls called fingerprints, women’s purses are staunchly individual and often have much to say about their owners. The examination methodology was simple but effective. First you dump everything on the table, then you examine each thing and, if there is nothing interesting about it, put it back into the purse. In the end, two items remained on Petelina’s desk. Both had perplexed her.

Elena heard Marat Valeyev’s voice before he opened the door to her office. The captain was matter-of-factly dragging a person down the hallway.

My swimsuits really are pretty dated, crossed Elena’s mind for some reason as she glanced at herself in the mirror. She commended herself once more on choosing a short haircut. Two swipes of the comb and she was good to go.

First to appear in the doorway was a drunken face with a dripping wet and receding hairline. Captain Valeyev propped the man up from behind, holding him by his jacket. Dmitry Maltsev, guessed Petelina. It took a leap to connect this rumpled person with a businessman. The field operative pushed the fugitive into the office and plumped him into a chair.

«Have a look, Detective Petelina. This is Dmitry Maltsev. We plucked him straight from an overnight bender in the restaurant car. He was incomprehensible so I took the liberty and threw some water on him… «Doused’ may be better word.»

Elena got up from her desk and cracked open the window.

«Well, offer him some water to drink because he reeks.»

«Drinking water won’t help him. I gave him permission to imbibe forty milliliters. Otherwise, we’ll spend half the day waiting for him to sleep it off. The car attendant says that he got caught up in the restaurant car and slept maybe about two hours. Here is his passport and here are the tickets. To St. Petersburg and back.» The operative looked at Maltsev dubiously, «Do you want me to stay? Just in case?»

«I’ve seen worse,» Elena assured him, looking through the tickets. «Did you speak to the car attendant for the train from Moscow?»

«That train comes back later. I sent Mayorov to take care of that.»

«Tell him to report to me as soon as he gets any information. What about the coat?»

«We checked the Maltsevs’ cars. They’re empty.»

«What does the janitor say?»

«Sorry Lena, I didn’t find him yesterday. He was hanging out with some fellow immigrants somewhere.»

«I want that question resolved, Marat.»

Valeyev let his gaze slip down the dogged detective’s shapely blue skirt and slender legs but refrained from mentioning what he wanted.

«Consider it done,» he assured her and left.

Petelina switched her attention to Maltsev and introduced herself formally. As there was no response, she asked loudly:

«Mr. Maltsev, do you understand where you are?»

Maltsev winced.

«Coffee. Do you have coffee?» he asked with a sour face.

«We have instant coffee.» Elena walked over to the kettle. «Do you prefer it stronger?»

«Uh-huh. No milk, no sugar,» he waved his hand.

«How about some brandy…»

«Why? You’ve got some?»

«You’re not in a bar Mr. Maltsev!»

While the arrested man drank greedily, Petelina paced in a semicircle around her office. As per usual, she formed a mental portrait of her interlocutor.

Forty years old and reaching that age when his beard goes gray and the devil starts poking him in the rib. Got tired of his forty-year-old wife so he found himself a younger woman. Not too tall and fairly gaunt for his age, but doesn’t work out. Well dressed, but not quite in the business style. His shoes have thick soles and are well worn, so his job involves making field visits. Acts like one of the boys with his employees and loses his cool at times. Doesn’t regret letting a strong word fly here and there. So if his wife annoys him too much, he can allow himself to be crass with her too. Which, it seems, is what happened yesterday. And yet, being this drunk doesn’t suit him, so last night’s bender was most likely caused by some sort of nervous breakdown. My uniform and office stumped him more than being arrested on the train. It’s one thing to think that your drinking has gotten you in trouble – it’s entirely different when you see a sign that says Investigative Committee with a desk officer posted beneath it as you’re brought in.

«So what is going on?» Maltsev spoke up, pushing away the emptied mug. «Who are you?»

«I am Senior Detective Elena Pavlovna Petelina.»

«A female major,» mumbled Maltsev, either from doubt or from respect.

Petelina had reached the rank of Major faster than many of her male colleagues. And yet, this was the rank beyond which women were seldom promoted. Wicked tongues liked to say that to become a lieutenant colonel, you needed to first let a colonel be on top of you – or, even better, a general.

«What am I here for?» asked Maltsev.

Petelina did not say anything. She began to tidy her desk and, seemingly by accident, dropped a photo of a lovely three-year-old girl into Maltsev’s lap.

He reacted weakly.

«Yours?» and replaced the snapshot on the table.

The trick had not worked. And yet this was one of the two items that had stumped Elena during her examination of Maltseva’s purse. All mothers carry a photo of their child with them – there’s nothing exceptional about that. However, Inna Maltseva didn’t have any kids! So who was this girl?

«Did my company commit some violation?» Maltsev inquired carefully.

The customer is ripe and ready, the detective decided and began her interrogation forcefully.

«Mr. Maltsev, I am in charge of investigating felonies – particularly serious ones. Currently I am working on a brutal murder.» Elena placed photographs of the body with the staved-in head on the table and asked, «Is this your doing?»

As she had expected, Maltsev sobered up in a flash.

«Why mine?» he became afraid.

«Have another look. Do you recognize him?»

«Anton…»

«Do you recognize where the photos were taken?»

«In my apartment – that’s my bathrobe – »

«Precisely! Why did you kill your brother?»

«I didn’t kill him! Who did this?»

«I am confident that it was you!» the detective continued to apply pressure.

«No!» Maltsev jerked away.

«Your brother got out of prison. You had a drink of brandy, got into a quarrel, then made peace – it’s a normal sequence of events. But you harbored a grudge. And when Anton went to the bathroom, you hit him with a cleaver.»

«No! We had a drink with Anton – that part’s true. But I left after that. I had to catch a train to St. Petersburg! I have a meeting there tomorrow, I mean, today.»

«Start at the beginning.»

«Of course… Where should I start?»

«Your quarrel with your wife.»

«Inna told you about that? You’ve got to understand, Inna and I haven’t been on the best of terms lately. She’ll say something, I’ll say something back – it’s stop and go. I don’t even know what caused it this time. She threatened to divorce me and I swore she wouldn’t get a penny, so she stormed out and slammed the door.»

«Does your wife have a job?»

«What are you talking about! When we met, Inna was a primary school teacher. No money – just stress. She quit her job about two years later. I insisted on it.»

«At what time did Inna leave the house?»

«I came back from work at two because I had to go to St. Petersburg that evening. She stormed out about an hour later probably.»

«What was she wearing?»

«You think I remember? She buys so much crap!»

«Try your hardest.»

«Detective Petelina, may I have some more coffee?» Maltsev glanced at the kettle longingly.

He calmed down fast. His brother’s death didn’t shock him, Petelina noted as she poured the coffee.

How would he respond to more precise information about his brother’s death? Elena had spent eighteen years looking for Anatoly and had seen many bodies. She was mentally prepared to deal with the loss of a loved one. At this point, she would have been more shocked if she met her brother alive. In any case, she was compelled to discover what happened, where he disappeared to, who was responsible.

«How did it happen? Did you catch the killer?» Maltsev suddenly asked, as though having read the detective’s mind.

«Mr. Maltsev, you are currently at an official interrogation about a murder case. Therefore, as banal as this may sound, I’m the one who asks the questions here. I would like to know what kind of coat your wife was wearing as she left your apartment yesterday.»

«She just put on some coat. Wait – that’s it! It was gray and speckled. She just got it recently.»

«What time did Inna return?»

«If she did, I wasn’t there. I haven’t seen her since.»

«Did you know that Anton Maltsev was being released?»

«I knew that he was supposed to get out one of these days. He was serving his time in Koma and I figured it would take him some time to get back to Moscow. Then suddenly, there he was. It was around five.»

«Why did he go to your place?»

«Anton has his own apartment. I rented it at his request and saved the money for him. That’s why he came to stay with me for the first few days.»

«What happened then?»

«Well, we celebrated his return. But I had to go to the station, so I left him there. „Get some rest,“ I told him. „Get some sleep and make yourself at home.“»

«How did you get to the station?»

«On the subway. I didn’t have any luggage and the subway is nearby. It’s more reliable when there’s traffic too.»

«Did anyone see you leave the building?»

«How would I know? I was in a rush.»

Petelina’s cell phone began to vibrate quietly on the table. The call was from Senior Lieutenant Ivan Mayorov. Elena stepped aside to the window to hear his report.

Mayorov had lingered around until the passengers had all left the train before approaching the weary-looking forty-something car attendant. He introduced himself and showed her a photo of Dmitry Maltsev.

«Do you recognize this man?»

«Why? Who is that?» the woman asked frightened. «A criminal?»

«Did your shift start yesterday?»

«Yes. We went to St. Petersburg in the evening and returned this morning. I’m about to transfer the car over to the other attendant.»

«Try and recall whether this man was among your passengers.»

«Let me see… Oh yeah, I remember. Only, here in the photo, he is sober, but last night he was a little drunk.»

«Did he get on in Moscow and get off in St. Petersburg?» inquired the operative.

«Of course – we don’t run direct.»

Mayorov put the photo away and wrote down the woman’s statement along with her number.

«Write the following here, please: „This is an accurate record of what I said.“ Then add the date and your signature.»

«Is this standard procedure?»

«Yes, don’t forget to write down your number.» Vanya stood up and put away the witness statement. «Tatyana Fedorovna Semyonova, we will call you in the event that your assistance is further required.»

«Why? I already told you everything.»

«Well, we may ask you about that bruise, for example.» Vanya had long since noticed the attendant’s black eye which she had tried to cover with blush. «An unruly passenger?»

«My husband, the bastard.» The woman became upset and turned in profile. «You’re not the only one who noticed. My supervisor did too. Now, I bet I won’t be able to work the corporate lines. And it’s all because Nikolai keeps acting like a rabid dog. But it’s okay, this time I’ll get him put away for a while.»

«They won’t give him more than fifteen days,» Mayorov said doubtfully.

«I’d like to see them try,» the woman raged. «I could go another century without seeing that pig.»

«You could just file for divorce.»

«Yeah, right. And divide up the apartment?»

The attendant placed her hands on her hips and scowled at the operative, as if he was her detested husband standing before her. Ivan backed away slowly until he stepped out onto the platform and dialed Petelina.

Elena thanked Senior Lieutenant Mayorov and as always assured him that he was destined to become a major – and not just because his surname demanded it.

Then she returned to Maltsev. His alibi had been corroborated. He was on the train at the time of his brother’s murder. The detective, however, did not experience any more compassion toward him for this fact. She went on with the interview.

«Did you warn your wife that Anton was coming?»

«Why would I? We’d just had a fight. I wasn’t about to call her.»

«Why didn’t you answer the phone when I called?»

«You did? When?»

«When you were in the train.»

«Eh, I put the phone on silent and went straight to the restaurant as soon as I got on. I had a couple drinks and then it all hit me at once: the family, Inna, problems at work…»

«Don’t forget about the other woman,» Elena decided to test out her theory.

«What? What does the other woman have to do with it?»

«So, you are cheating on your wife?»

«I’m not going to address that. My brother was murdered. Ask me about that.»

«Why did you buy a return ticket as soon as you got there? Didn’t you have a meeting to go to?»

«I told you, I got wasted. Then my mind cleared up. My little brother’s at home and I haven’t seen him in two years. And Inna needs to be calmed down. God forbid something happens to her – she’s a bit fragile, after all.»

Elena picked up the prescription she had found in Inna Maltsev’s purse. This was the second item that had caught her attention.

«Are you aware that your wife was taking strong antidepressants?»

«Of course I am. I’m the one who convinced her to go see the doctor in the first place.»

«A psychiatrist?»

«Yes, naturally.»

«Was Inna diagnosed with something?»

«Some sort of depression. You had better ask the doctor. I can see that he hasn’t helped her much though. She’s either screaming or crying.» Maltsev began fiddling with the crime scene photos but froze on the most grizzly one and looked up frightened. «Did she do this..?»

«Did Inna have any kind of disagreements with Anton?»

«They barely ever spoke to each other. She’s basically only spent time with doctors the past few years.»

«What was she afflicted with?»

«Women’s stuff. Let her tell you herself.»

«Why did you just let slip that Inna could have killed your brother?»

«I saw the cleaver. One time, we had a fight and she reached for it – either as a joke or in earnest. It’s hard to tell with her sometimes.»

«Are you claiming that Inna threatened you?»

«I’m not claiming anything. You’ve gotten me all mixed up; my head is killing me!» Maltsev covered his face with his hands.

«When you left the apartment, your brother was there but your wife was not?»

«Well, yeah. Yes!»

«And she had no idea that Anton was in your apartment?»

«If you don’t believe me, ask her. What does she say? What the hell happened in there anyway, goddamnit?»

«Calm down, Mr. Maltsev. We will conclude our conversation for today, but I will need you again. Please remain in the city for now.»

«I understand.»

«Good. Tomorrow, please go to identify the body at this address…»

Petelina drew up the witness statement and gave it to Maltsev to sign. The sparkle of success in his eyes bothered her. What was making him so happy? The conclusion of an unpleasant procedure or had he managed to trick her somewhere along the way?

When Maltsev had relaxed and was about to leave, Elena asked a final question, a kind of test shot.

«Mr. Maltsev, could you please describe to me the car attendant on the Moscow to St. Petersburg train?»

Maltsev wavered and took his time responding.

«The attendant? What, am I required to remember her?»

Elena noted the touch of anxiety in his eyes. She always paid more attention to her subject’s emotions than their words. A liar prepares all the right words beforehand; it’s hard to trip him up. Emotions, however, reveal the truth at times.

«At least tell me her approximate age, or body-type. Or was it a man?»

«It was a woman. That’s all I remember,» Maltsev grew angry. «Can I go?»

«If that’s all you remember, you may go.»

As he was about to leave the office, Maltsev turned around glowing.

«I just remembered: The attendant had a black eye. She covered it up with make-up, but it was still noticeable.»

The test shot had whistled wide of its mark. Maltsev was telling the truth. The detective was once again left with one suspect in her murder investigation.