detected.
âHe should have suggested it himself.â
âThereâs the other obvious way.â
âWho goes to Switzerland?â
âStupar. The Swiss wonât recognise his qualifications, though: heâll have to work through a local lawyer.â
âI think we should start limiting knowledge only to what people have to know. Itâs safer.â
âI agree,â said Gusovsky.
âAnd that should include Zimin from now on. Heâs only good at controlling thugs.â
Gusovsky didnât respond. If Zimin proved a liability, heâd have to be eliminated. Gusovsky decided against reaching a decision too soon: when it happened â if it had to happen â heâd make it an example throughout the Family, to prove no-one was safe, no matter how high in the organisation. A public execution, in fact.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Cowley supposed his identification was inevitable (âHey, donât I recognise you?â) once the Georgetown photographs were compared in the newspaper picture libraries. Just as it was inevitable the media would fill in the lack of real information with long references to his having been the first American investigator officially to work in Moscow. He still regretted the exposure. Heâd missed the initial coverage, on the previous eveningâs TV news, but it was repeated on every morning channel and all the newspapers carried his picture at the scene the previous day and from the Moscow affair: some even had shots and lengthy accounts of the case. There was, of course, no identification of Paulineâs second husband as the killer: according to the carefully concocted official records, the murderer was the mentally deranged Moscow labourer they had first â wrongly â arrested.
There were already three enquiries from FBI Public Affairs for interviews by the time Cowley got to his office. There was also a message from the State Department that the Russians were providing more up to date photographs of Serov. The embassy had also formally requested the return of the body. Cowley rejected the interviews, and telephoned the Directorâs office for a meeting that afternoon.
A list of what had been found on the body was already on his desk and Cowley at first skimmed it hopefully, remembering Johannsenâs remark about a pocket diary. There wasnât one. In addition to the DC driving licence that had provided the original identification, there were locally billed MasterCharge and American Express cards, four house keys, $76 in cash, a pair of spectacles, in their case, American manufactured ballpoint and fountain pens, and a clean pad of reminder notes marked as undergoing forensic testing for previous page indentations. There had been a plain band of Russian-origin gold on the manâs wedding finger, and a tie clasp and matching cuff-links of American make.
Cowley had just finished going through the list when Rafferty and Johannsen arrived. Even before he sat down Rafferty said: âWe didnât know we were with a celebrity! Do we give autographs when weâre asked or not?â
There wasnât the earlier resentful edge of cynicism, and Cowley was glad. âWhat about the house-to-house?â
âZilch,â dismissed Rafferty.
âThe captain wants to know if you need the scene to remain sealed. All your guys have gone,â said Johannsen.
âIâm seeing our scientific co-ordinator this morning. Iâll check if it can be released. And there is something from the scene: a shell casing from a Russian gun.â
Both homicide detectives straightened slightly in their chairs, discarding the professional casualness. âYou think maybe he was killed by one of his own people?â queried Johannsen. âThat it is the Russian Mafia!â
âCould be a set-up, to make it look like that,â cautioned Rafferty.
âLetâs wait for the evidence,â warned Cowley. Heâd already