The entire Olympic complex, built for the 1980 games, lies due north of the center of the city, just outside the Sadovaya Spasskaya or Garden Ring Road. The stadium still towered over the surrounding buildings, and in is shadow was the German-built Penta Hotel. Monk had himself deposited under the marquee, paid off the cab, and entered the lobby. When the cab was gone he left the hotel and walked the rest of the way. It was only a quarter of a mile.
The whole area south of the stadium had degenerated into that atmosphere of drabness that prevails when upkeep and maintenance become too much trouble. The Communist-era buildings housing a dozen embassies, offices, and some restaurants carried a patina of summer dust that would turn to crust in the coming cold. Bits of paper and Styrofoam fluttered along the streets.
Just off Durova Street was a railed enclave whose gardens and buildings showed a different spirit, one of care and attention. There were three principal buildings within the railings: a hostel for wayfarers visiting from the provinces, a very fine school built in the mid-1990s, and the place of worship itself.
Moscow’s principal mosque had been built in 1905, a dozen years before Lenin struck, and it bore the stamp of pre-Revolutionary elegance. For seventy years under Communism it had languished, like the Christian churches persecuted on the orders of the atheist state. After the fall of Communism a generous gift from Saudi Arabia had enabled a five-year program of enlargement and restoration. The hostel and school dated from the mid-1990s program.
The mosque had not changed in size, a quite small edifice in pale blue and white, with tiny windows, entered through a pair of antique carved oak doors. Monk slipped off his shoes, put them in one of the pigeonholes to the left of the lobby, and went in.
As with all mosques, the interior was completely open and devoid of chairs or benches. Rich carpets also donated by Saudi Arabia covered the floor; pillars held up a gallery that ran around the building above the central space.
According to the faith, there were no graven images or paintings. Panels on the walls contained various quotations from the Koran.
The mosque served the spiritual needs of Moscow’s resident Moslem community, excluding the diplomats who mainly worshiped at the Saudi Embassy. But Russia contains tens of millions of Moslems, and its capital two public mosques. As it was not a Friday, there were only a few dozen worshipers.
Monk found a place against the wall near the entrance, sat cross-legged, and watched. Mainly the men were old: Azeris, Tatars, Ingush, Ossetians. They all wore suits, frayed but clean.
After half an hour an old man in front of Monk rose from his knees and turned toward the door. He noticed Monk and an expression of curiosity crossed his face. The suntanned face, the blond hair, the lack of a string of prayer beads. He hesitated, then sat down with his back to the wall.
He must have been well over seventy and three medals won in the Second World War dangled from his lapel.
“Peace be unto you,” he murmured.
“And to you be peace,” Monk replied.
“Are you of the faith?” asked the old man.
“Alas, no, I come seeking a friend.”
“Ah. A particular friend?”
“Yes, one of long ago. We lost contact. I hoped I might find him here. Or someone who might know him.”
The old man nodded.
“Ours is a small community. Many small communities. Which one would he belong to?”
“He is a Chechen,” said Monk. The old man nodded again, then climbed stiffly to his feet.
“Wait,” he said.
He came back ten minutes later, having found someone outside. He nodded in the direction of Monk, smiled, and left. The newcomer was younger, but not much.
“I am told you seek one of my brothers,” said the Chechen. “Can I help?”
“Possibly,” said Monk. “I would be grateful. We met years ago. Now that I am visiting your city I would be happy to see him again.”
“And his name, my friend?”
“Umar Gunayev.”
Something flickered in the older man’s eyes.
“I know of no such man,” he said.
“Ah, then I shall be disappointed,” said Monk, “for I had brought him a gift.”
“How long will you be among us?”