Black Knight in Red Square Read Online Free PDF Page A

doctor.
    â€œA moment,” said Rostnikov.
    â€œThere are sick people back at the hospital who are still alive,” the doctor said.
    â€œAnd they will have to wait for you,” Rostnikov replied evenly. “I have never waited less than an hour for a doctor at the hospital. The patients will not notice.”
    Karpo came away from the bodies to speak to Rostnikov. As he paused in the dusty light of one of the high windows, he looked to Rostnikov like a figure in a religious painting by Rublev.
    â€œThey have all been drinking vodka,” he said. “All have swelling at the lymph nodes. All have blood in the mouth. All have the smell, the same smell which I cannot place.”
    â€œNow can I—” began the doctor, but Rostnikov ignored him.
    â€œSo we have four guests in the hotel who have died from the same thing, probably something ingested.”
    â€œQuite probably,” agreed Karpo, taking notes.
    â€œSo now we find out if they had dinner or a drink together last night. Who was with them. What they ate. Get the waiters who were on duty last night. Find out if any of these men were with a group, traveling with anyone. Discover—”
    â€œChief Inspector,” came a voice from the doorway, interrupting Rostnikov.
    Rostnikov looked toward the doorway and saw the form of a woman against the light. He could not tell her age, but her voice sounded young.
    â€œYes?”
    â€œMy name is Olga Kuznetsov. I am from the Intourist office in the hotel,” she said, coming forward. “Mrs. Aubrey is here. She is demanding to know what happened. What shall I tell her?”
    â€œChief Inspector,” growled the old doctor, “I would like to—”
    â€œWho is Mrs. Aubrey?” Rostnikov asked.
    â€œHer husband is the American who died,” said the young woman, her voice wavering. She had seen the four corpses as she came forward, and had taken a step backward and looked away.
    â€œShall I talk to her?” said Karpo.
    â€œNo,” sighed Rostnikov. “You find the waiters, check with the elevator operators, cleaning ladies, floor women. We’ll meet in the lobby in half an hour.”
    â€œShall we let them open the restaurant?” Karpo asked, putting his notebook away.
    â€œAfter the good doctor has seen to the removal of the bodies. I think their removal during lunch might affect the customers and cut into the sales receipts.” Rostnikov looked at the doctor to indicate that the corpses could now be removed.
    â€œGames,” grumbled the old man. “Bureaucratic games. They never change.”
    â€œNever,” agreed Rostnikov. And then to the young woman from Intourist he added, “I’ll see Mrs. Aubrey in your office.”
    â€œNo need for that,” came a voice behind him. It was a woman’s voice, older than the Intourist woman and quite startling, for she spoke in English.
    Rostnikov turned as gracefully as his leg would allow.
    â€œMrs. Aubrey?” he said, also speaking in English. “This I think is not a good place for us to talk.”
    â€œIf you’re thinking of my feelings, I can take care of them myself. That is not my husband lying on that table.”
    â€œIt isn’t?” said Rostnikov, giving the woman his full attention now. She was about thirty-five, very trimly built in a blue skirt and jacket. Her hair was black and long, her eyes dark, and her glasses large and quite Western. Her lips were full and pouting. Quite an attractive woman.
    â€œMy husband’s soul, if he had one, departed when he died.” She nodded toward the corpse. “That is the shell only, a symbol. I would like to know what happened. Who killed him and why?”
    Karpo nodded and walked out, passing Mrs. Aubrey, who took a step back when she saw the giant figure approach her from the darkness. Then the doctor stalked out in search of attendants to take the bodies away. The Intourist woman