The Twelfth Department Read Online Free Page B

You’ve done some good deeds in the past and here’s your punishment—the chance to do another good deed.”
    Popov’s use of Korolev’s patronymic was strange—things were usually more informal between them. But perhaps Slivka’s presence accounted for it—and not some other, more worrying, reason.
    “I’m always ready to do my duty,” Korolev said—there wasn’t much point in saying anything else. “What do we know about the dead man?”
    “He was called Azarov. A medical man—a professor, I believe. I don’t know much more but I’ll see if I can get his Party file, information as to where he works and so on for you. Anyway, his maid found him half an hour ago and the sergeant at the local Militia station knew enough to call us in straightaway. Given where it is, there isn’t a moment to lose—Morozov has a car waiting for you in the courtyard.”
    Slivka’s frown deepened another millimeter or two.
    “Comrades, I won’t pull the wool over your eyes on this,” Popov continued. “It won’t be too long before important neighbors with nervous wives start calling me asking why we haven’t arrested the murderer. In fact, the building management have already been on the phone, very keen to do anything they can to ensure the matter is resolved ‘as soon as possible.’ And maybe it won’t just be them who’ll want this tidied up quickly. There are other people who won’t like blood being spilled that close to the Kremlin.”
    “Of course,” Korolev said, thinking that the “other people” would be his old friends in State Security. You could throw a stone from the roof of Leadership House and land it in the Kremlin’s gardens. More or less. Of course they’d take an interest in a killing that close to where Stalin laid his head.
    “Forensics?” Korolev asked, doing his best to ignore the dread swilling round his innards. He wouldn’t be going to the zoo with Yuri tomorrow—that much seemed certain.
    “Ushakov and Levschinsky. They might even be there already,” Popov said, sucking on his pipe. “And Dr. Chestnova will look at the body for you.”
    Popov’s thin smile revealed a certain satisfaction that he’d preempted Korolev’s next request.
    “Well then,” Korolev said, rising. Slivka did the same and Popov nodded his approval.
    “With luck, it will be easy enough,” Popov said, nodding in the vague direction of Bersenevka. “Maybe the wife did it. Or the maid. The sergeant is called Belinsky—he’ll give you all necessary assistance. If you need anything—call me.”

 
    CHAPTER FOUR
    Slivka drove down Neglinaya Street until it ended opposite the Metropol Hotel, where she turned right. In Teatralnaya Square, the white facade of the Bolshoi was vivid against the purple sky. The weather had turned humid that morning and now dark clouds were rolling across the city from the west. They looked heavy with rain and, unless he was mistaken, they’d be dropping it on Moscow in the not-too-distant future.
    “How do you want to handle it, Chief?”
    Somehow Slivka managed to speak quietly yet still be heard over the rattling engine.
    “We’d better take it easy until we know the lay of the land. I’ll do the talking, you take notes and keep your eyes and ears open. This is the kind of place where you have to have your wits about you. So I’ll be counting on you for that.”
    Slivka nodded her agreement and then they were passing the hole in the skyline where the cathedral of Christ the Savior had stood until it had been blown to smithereens back in thirty-two—all to make way for a skyscraper that had yet to appear and, recent rumor had it, never would.
    And here was another structure due for replacement—the Bolshoi Kamenny Most. The “Great Stone Bridge” had linked Balchug island to the Kremlin side of the Moskva river since long before Korolev’s time—but now a wider, higher replacement was under construction not fifty meters to the east. They said the new bridge