The Silent Sisters (Charles Jenkins #3)(52)

Moscow Oblast, Russia

Helge Kulikov thought it magnanimous for Dmitry Sokalov to call and suggest they speak in private about Maria’s infidelity. Sokalov said the delicate information was inappropriate for discussion over the telephone and better discussed in person. Could they meet?

Helge wished he had not drunk so much. He wished he had eaten something. The walk to the Metro station helped sober him, but the subway car had been hot and muggy, like all of Moscow, and he had struggled to stay awake. Back above ground, the two-block walk to the Goaltender, the bar where Sokalov asked to meet, again revived him.

As Helge approached the bar, he wiped the sweat dripping down his face and frowned. He had expected a significantly higher caliber establishment, one befitting the deputy director’s status. The Goaltender was more of a ryumochnaya—the small basement bars in Moscow that served cheap alcohol and cheaper food. It seemed beneath the man, though the deputy director had told Helge over the phone that he wanted to be discreet. The Goaltender, tucked into a forested enclave at the end of a dead-end road, was certainly discreet.

“It has an assortment of football paraphernalia I thought someone with your extended résumé might find appealing,” Sokalov had said. Helge hoped only that it had the type of vodka he had drunk in the deputy director’s office. He didn’t drink Stoli often. Helge stepped into the bar and took a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. The interior also disappointed. In the entry, young people sporadically populated the dozen or so upright tables, and the music played at too high a volume. The aroma of alcohol and fried food permeated the air.

Helge’s eyes adjusted, but he did not see Sokalov. He walked through the entry to an interior room with traditional tables and seating. Sokalov sat at a table in a corner. The deputy director was certainly being discreet. He wore a dark jacket and a ball cap pulled low on his brow, which seemed not in keeping with the pompous man Helge had met at Lubyanka functions.

Sokalov raised his gaze and the two men nodded a greeting. Helge removed his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before sitting.

“Thank you for coming, Helge,” Sokalov said.

“Thank you for going to this effort, Dmitry.”

“Yes, well, as I mentioned, the information I have uncovered so far is, I’m afraid, somewhat awkward to discuss over the telephone, and potentially embarrassing.”

“I’m grateful for your discretion. How were you able to obtain the information, and so quickly?”

Sokalov smiled. “Gathering information is what I do, Helge.”

“Yes, of course.”

A waitress appeared at their table.

“Let me buy you a drink. Vodka?” Sokalov said.

“Yes, um . . . the vodka I had in your office.”

“Of course. Stoli,” Sokalov said to the waitress. “Over ice.” The waitress departed. “Unfortunately, sometimes a man in my position must be the bearer of bad news.”

“I’m sure it is one of many burdens,” Helge said.

“And I’m sure a man of your standing, a professional football player, does not desire that I beat around the bush, so I will just come out and tell you.”

Helge sighed. “Yes, please.”

“I am afraid Maria is having an affair with an FSB officer. I understand from my sources that this has been going on for quite some time, years in fact.”

Helge sat back. “I suspected her many late nights at the office and her weekends away were not all work related.”

“No. I’m afraid not.”

The waitress returned with the vodka and set it on the table. Helge eagerly sipped it, struggling to keep his hand from shaking. He would have downed the drink in a single gulp but decided it best to at least appear to be in control.

“That is the bad news,” Sokalov said. “But there is some good news.”

“Good news?” Helge said.

“Yes. Because this man is an FSB officer, he comes under my jurisdiction, and I have the ability to fire him from his position for violating one of the tenets of employment, adultery.”

“He is married then?”

“With three young children.”

Three young children. Helge hadn’t thought the man would have a family. He only wanted to punish Maria. “And what of disciplining Maria?”

“That is up to you. I can’t very well fire the officer and not fire Maria, as much as it would pain me to do so. But she, too, broke one of our tenets.”

Helge gave this some thought. His retirement income from his work at the parks department was no more than a pittance. Without Maria’s salary and her position, they would have to give up their apartment. Where would they live? Without her salary, how would they live?

“I don’t think we need to go so far, Dmitry.”

“No?”

“Perhaps you could speak to them . . . both . . . Warn them. Yes. Warn them. I think a warning from you would be sufficient to end it.”

“That is magnanimous of you, Helge, I must say. I’m not certain most men could do such a thing. Too many would be blinded by jealousy and rage. I can certainly do as you suggested, and I wanted you to know that the officer involved has expressed his sincere apologies.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure he is sorry,” Helge said. Then, not wanting to sound like a pushover, he added, “But can we be certain he is sorry for what he did, or only sorry that he got caught?”