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.
9
Elena Petelina could not shake the burdensome impression that her as of yet fruitless interrogation of Inna Maltseva had made on her. The chief suspect in the brutal murder had not answered a single question. She had clammed up and stared at the detective as if Petelina were some news anchor, speaking an alien language on the TV. Where was her mind? What was she thinking about? Why didn’t she try to defend herself? At one point, the semblance of a smile had softened her tightly pursed lips. That was when Elena had asked her about the little girl’s photograph in her purse. Elena had clutched at this straw but, try as she might, not a single peep had followed.
Someone rapped on the door. Detective Petelina turned away from the window, instinctively adjusted her cardigan and fixed her hair. In the doorway stood a heavyset, forty-five year old man in a mackintosh, an ascot and large glasses with thick frames.
«Arkady Borisovich Krasin, psychiatrist,» the doctor introduced himself. His was the signature on Inna Maltseva’s prescription. «You
