“Certainly, sir. I am investigating the death of a man we think may have been a criminal. A burglar. One of our witnesses believes she saw the man lurking close to these premises. Naturally, I am concerned that he might have been attempting to make an entry by night.”
Zhilin smiled thinly.
“I doubt it. These are troubled times, Inspector, and the security of this building has to be very tight.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Have you ever seen this man before?”
Zhilin stared at the photograph for less than a second.
“Good God, Zaitsev.”
“Who?”
“Zaitsev, the old cleaner. A burglar you say? Impossible.”
“Would you tell me about Zaitsev, please.”
“Nothing to tell. Engaged about a year ago. Ex-army. Seemed reliable. Came every night, Monday to Friday, to clean the offices.”
“But not rece
ntly?”
“No, failed to show up. After two nights I had to engage a replacement. A war widow. Very thorough.”
“When would this be, when he failed to show up?”
Zhilin went to a cabinet and extracted a file. He gave the impression there was a file for everything.
“Here we are. Work sheets. He came as usual on the night of July 15. Cleaned as usual. Left as usual sometime before dawn. Failed to appear the following night, never been seen since. That witness of yours must have seen him leaving in the small hours. Quite usual. He wasn’t burgling, he was cleaning.”
“That explains it all,” said Novikov.
“Not quite,” snapped Zhilin. “You said he was a burglar.”
“Two nights after he left here he was apparently involved in a break-in at a flat on Kutuzovsky Prospekt. The householder identified him. A week later he was found dead.”
“Disgraceful,” said Zhilin. “This crime wave is an outrage. You people should do something about it.”
Novikov shrugged.
“We try. But they are many and we are few. We want to do the job, but we get no support from on high.”
“That will change, Inspector, that will change.” Zhilin had a messianic light in his eye. “Six months from now Mr. Komarov will be our president. Then you will see some changes made. You have read his speeches? Crackdown on crime, that is what he is always calling for. A great man. I hope we can count on your vote.”
“That goes without saying. Er, do you have a private address for this cleaner?”
Zhilin scribbled it on a scrap of paper and handed it over.
The daughter was tearful but resigned. She looked at the photo and nodded. Then she glanced at the cot along the sitting room wall. At least there would be a bit more space.
Novikov left. He would tell Volsky, but there was clearly no money here for a funeral. Better let the City of Moscow take care of it. As in the flat, the problem at the mortuary was one of space.
At least Volsky could close a file. As for Homicide, the Zaitsev murder would just pile up with the other ninety-seven percent.
Langley, September 1988
THE list of the Soviet delegation members was passed to the CIA by the State Department as a matter of routine. When the Silicon Valley conference on theoretical physics was first mooted and the notion of inviting the USSR to send a delegation was made, little chance had been given of an acceptance.