The Shadow Walker (35 page)

And then the footfalls became more purposeful, no longer aimless pacing, but moving as if toward some goal. Were they receding? At this thought Drew felt relief coursing through his body. But he knew that this was ridiculous. Whatever respite he might be gaining could only be temporary.

He was right; suddenly the footsteps returned, growing louder, before he could draw in his breath again. The unevenness was still there, but he could no longer hear the sound of the scraping, just a slow purposeful footfall coming in his direction.

Then a change in the quality of the sound told him that whoever had been pacing around outside had at last entered the room. Watching him as he lay bound on the bench. All rational thought left him. He was helpless, consumed by a primordial terror, every instinct screaming to escape.

He tried to speak, but the words were trapped in his dry throat. He moved his arms and legs agonizingly against the plastic binding and tried again to lift his head, but still could see nothing but the roof and the lights.

The footsteps came closer and now he could hear the faint sound of breathing, the rustle of clothing. Someone was standing immediately over him, though still invisible to his constrained vision.

He held his breath. Expecting almost anything. A gunshot, a knife, a physical blow.

But there was nothing. The footsteps stopped. The faint breathing continued. Drew waited, his hands gripped white, for what might come next.

“I'm afraid he's tied up all morning.” She ran her index finger slowly down the page of the desk diary in front of her, as though she needed to confirm her statement. “I might be able to find you a slot toward the end of the afternoon.”

Nergui glanced at Doripalam, who looked back blankly. He smiled gently at the receptionist. “I don't think you quite understand,” he said. “We're the police. We're investigating a murder. Several murders, in fact. We need to see Mr. Kartashkin now.”

Her mouth had dropped slightly open at the mention of the murders, but she still didn't seem inclined to give way. “I've been told very strictly that he shouldn't be—”

But Nergui was already walking past her and up the stairs to the first floor. She jumped to her feet as though to try to stop him, but Doripalam motioned her to sit. “It's easier for everyone if you don't get involved,” he said.

“But you can't just come—” She looked wildly around her.

“We can,” Doripalam said, smiling. “We are. Incidentally, just to save time, where will we find Mr. Kartashkin?”

She stared at him as though he were insane. Then she shook her head as though realizing that there was little point in arguing. “He's in the Boardroom. Top of the stairs, first on the left.”

“Thank you,” Doripalam said. “See how helpful a little cooperation can be.”

He bounded up the stairs after Nergui. Nergui had clearly caught the beginning of the conversation below, and so was now waiting at the top of the stairs, smiling back down at Doripalam. “Where did she say he was?”

“Boardroom. First on the left.”

Nergui strode off again, just a few yards down the corridor to a sturdy wooden door. A well-polished brass plate confirmed that this was the Boardroom.

Nergui, not one to minimize the impact of his entrance, pushed down the handle and flung open the door.

Four men sat around a large mahogany table, files and papers spread between them. They were all staring in astonishment at the intrusion.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Nergui said. “Which of you would be Mr. Kartashkin?”

A large, bald man stood up at the far end of the table. “I am Kartashkin,” he said calmly. “I trust that there is some good explanation for this intrusion.”

“I believe so,” Nergui said, smiling faintly. He produced his ID
card from his top pocket and waved it airily in front of the men. “Ministry of Security,” he said.

Kartashkin looked as if he was about to protest, then clearly had second thoughts. “I am not aware that our company is of any interest to the Ministry,” he said calmly. “I have not gained this impression from the Minister.”

Nergui smiled. “No, well, perhaps he does not share all his innermost thoughts with you. Perhaps you would like to give him a call to check?”

Kartashkin stared at Nergui's impassive gaze, then suddenly looked down. “No matter,” he said. “I am of course always happy to cooperate with the Ministry in any way possible.” He looked around the table, smiling blandly. “Perhaps, gentlemen, you will leave me alone for a short while with Mr.—?” He glanced at Nergui.

“Nergui,” Nergui smiled. “And my colleague, Doripalam. This should not take long.”

The other men shuffled out, and Kartashkin sat smiling at Nergui and Doripalam. As soon as the door closed behind his colleagues, Kartashkin's smile vanished. “What the hell's this all about? I do not appreciate being invaded in my own offices.”

Nergui's smile was as bland as Kartashkin's had been. “This is a very important matter, Mr. Kartashkin. We are investigating murder.”

Kartashkin regarded him closely. “And what does murder have to do with me? I'm a businessman.”

“As you say, Mr. Kartashkin. And a very well-connected one. We understand that at least one of our officers was on your payroll.”

Kartashkin's head jerked up. “What do you mean?”

“What I say.”

“That's ridiculous. We don't—”

“Delgerbayar, the officer in question is now dead. Murdered. Brutally murdered.”

Kartashkin rose to his feet. “I must ask you to leave. I'm not sure what you're implying, but it sounds like the most outrageous—”

Nergui slowly raised his hand. Kartashkin, imposing figure as he might be among his own colleagues, fell silent. “I am not trying to imply anything, Mr. Kartashkin. I am simply stating some facts and seeking your help with our inquiries.”

Kartashkin slumped back down into his seat. “You can't prove—”

Nergui lifted his hand again. “Mr. Kartashkin, we are both adults. Let us not waste each other's time. You do not know what I can prove or not prove. I know that Delgerbayar was on your payroll. It may well be that other senior officers are also in your pocket. I do not know that, and at the moment I do not particularly care. But I do care about Delgerbayar because he is now dead, and I want to know why.”

Kartashkin hesitated, looking from Nergui to Doripalam and then back, as though hoping that some other approach might be forthcoming. Finally, he said: “I don't know what you're talking about.”

Nergui shook his head slowly. “That is disappointing, Mr. Kartashkin. I had expected a more intelligent response.”

Kartashkin looked at the door as though expecting that someone would walk in and interrupt them. Perhaps, Doripalam thought, someone really would contact the Minister on his behalf.

“What are you proposing to do? Arrest me?” The words were defiant, but the tone much less so. Kartashkin had suddenly become a different figure from the blustering demagogue who had first greeted them. This was a man, Doripalam thought, on the verge of fear. But fear of what? This would not be a man troubled by the legal consequences of his actions. He did not seriously fear arrest. It might be that he was engaged in corruption far more serious than the bribing of a few police officers, but in this society foreign investment was always well beyond the law. Whatever he was afraid of was something far more troubling. As he watched Kartashkin, and saw sweat breaking out on his neck and forehead, Doripalam thought back to the board meeting they had apparently interrupted. They had caught only a glimpse of
the grouping of men before they had responded to Nergui's interruption, but Doripalam had the impression, from the expressions and body language, that it had been some sort of crisis meeting.

Nergui nodded. “If I have to take you in to police headquarters to get the answers I need, then so be it. It would be an unfortunate interruption to your day. I am sure you have much to get on with.” Nergui glanced briefly across at Doripalam, and it was almost as if the older man had been reading his thoughts.

Kartashkin shook his head. “I am not prepared to say anything on the record. If you want a formal statement, you will have to arrest me.”

Nergui smiled softly. “But off the record?”

“I don't know.” Kartashkin glanced at the door again. “This is not a good time. I am in the middle of things.”

“We will keep you no longer than we need to.”

“I… Well, we are facing some difficulties.” He paused, clearly trying to think what to say. “You are right. Off the record. Delgerbayar was known to us. He did the odd bit of business on our behalf. Nothing corrupt—”

“I understand,” Nergui said, his face blank.

“I do not know why he was killed. But I want to know why. We have been having some business troubles.”

“You are involved in one of the Gobi projects, that is right?”

Kartashkin looked sharply up at Nergui, then nodded. “I think you know more than you are saying. Yes, we are involved in the Gobi.”

“It is not going well?”

“It is proving more difficult that we envisaged, yes. There is enormous potential, but the initial investigations are proving difficult. It has required more investment than we expected. Considerably more.” He paused, clearly wondering whether he had said too much.

“You are the major investor?” Nergui said. “Along with our government, I mean.”

Kartashkin hesitated. “It's complicated,” he said. “We were the major investor, initially. It was virtually a joint venture between ourselves and your government, with a little investment and expertise from the US, the UK and Korea. But as the projected costs have risen, we've struggled to keep pace, so the other parties have increased their stake. Especially the US.”

“The US government?” Nergui said.

Kartashkin shook his head. “There is government investment and support, as there is in all the partner companies, but this is a private company.” He smiled, bleakly.

“But you have raised the required investment?”

“We have raised the required investment. But it has not been easy. There have been tensions.”

“And murders?”

“We do not know if Delgerbayar's death is linked in any way—”

“Mr. Ransom the Englishman, was also on your payroll, was he not?”

For the second time, Kartashkin raised his head and stared at Nergui. “You are playing with me,” he said.

“Believe me, Mr. Kartashkin, I do not play where such matters are concerned. We know that Mr. Ransom was working for the consortium.”

“He was working for our British partner. In the north. He was advising on the opencast mining—”

“Mr. Kartashkin, please do not underestimate me. We know that Mr. Ransom had been carrying out some work connected with the Gobi project. We understand that he had been called in to verify some disputed data.”

Kartashkin's eyes were wide now. “In Russia, I think we have ceased carrying out secret surveillance on our citizens. I can only assume that this is not yet the case here.”

“Assume as you wish,” Nergui said. “But we do like to be aware when visitors to our country are acting illegally.”

“Hardly illegally,” Kartashkin said. “And you will need to take this up with our partner. It was they who requested—”

“He was working outside the terms specified on his visa,” Nergui said. “But that is unimportant. We have two murder victims, killed in very similar circumstances, both apparently employed within your consortium. Such coincidences spark my curiosity.”

“I do not know what is happening,” Kartashkin said. “I am speaking the truth. I am out of my depth in this project, I admit it. I'm a businessman—a pretty hard-nosed businessman, I thought. I don't always do things by the book. But this is beyond me.”

“What is beyond you, Mr. Kartashkin?” Nergui said.

“This project. There are people involved in this who scare me. On all sides.” He glanced at the door again.

“Even on your own side?”

Kartashkin leaned forward, his hands clasped together. “Yes, even on my side. We're a legitimate business. But we needed more investment here to keep in the game. We've always walked a fine line.”

“What do you mean?”

“We're based in St. Petersburg. It's not easy. Organized crime there is… well, it dominates the business world. Not all businessmen are criminals, but we all have to make accommodations.”

“I understand. And you have been making accommodations in respect of this project?”

“More than ever before. We were desperate. We'd already sunk so much into this that if it had fallen through we'd have gone under. And there was increasing investment from the other partner countries, so we began to be afraid of being squeezed out. So we had to look for further investment at home.”

“And you found it?”

“We found it. But only by doing business with people that we would not normally wish to go near.”

Nergui nodded, and looked at the door. “Your colleagues,” he said. “These are the people you are talking about?”

“Two of them, yes. The other one is my deputy. But the other two directors—”

“Do you believe they are responsible for the murders, Mr. Kartashkin?”

Kartashkin shook his head. “No. I mean, that would make no sense. Why would they want to kill Delgerbayar and Ransom?”

“So who did?”

“Well, this is what scares me. If we assume that the two murders are connected, then that suggests that they were committed by someone else in the project. Someone trying to harm our interests.” He paused. “That, at least, is how my new colleagues appear to think.”

Nergui nodded. “And they think this because this is perhaps how they would behave themselves?”

Kartashkin shrugged. “I do not know. But I know that they are taking the killings as—how do I put this?—as an affront to their honor. The way they talk disturbs me.”