Moskva Read Online Free PDF Page B

cartoon from
Krokodil
, Moscow’s satirical magazine, pasted to the back. It showed a Soviet tank exhibiting a bad case of brewer’s droop. The card was made in Leningrad, not East Germany; Tom wondered if Anna realized that.
    ‘You don’t mind Edward asking you to help with this?’
    That wasn’t the question she wanted to ask.
    Even upset, Anna Masterton was far too polite to put the question she really wanted answered.
Why the hell would my husband suggest I show you round my daughter’s bedroom?
    ‘I’ve done a certain amount of investigative work,’ Tom said carefully. ‘While seconded to Intelligence. Sir Edward thought I might find something to indicate where this party was held.’
    Anna nodded doubtfully.
    Yanking back a black curtain, Tom found himself staring towards Vodootvodny Canal, with Gorky Park to the right. A purple-haired gonk smirking at the recently revealed view was the first babyish thing he’d seen.
    Alex’s books sat in a row against the skirting board.
    Mostly Stephen King or Virginia Andrews, with a battered copy of
Lace
defiantly on top. It had been read so often page 292 fell out. Tom didn’t need to look to know it was the goldfish scene. ‘Lizzie’s,’ Lady Masterton said. ‘So, I can’t bin it.’
    ‘Whose?’
    ‘The girl who went to Westminster.’
    A black vinyl box revealed a Russian-language Linguaphone course: a row of well-used cassettes and a tatty paperback full of instructions on how to order a coffee, ask the way to the library, or tell someone you needed a lavatory and could they point you in the right direction please …
    ‘She’s fluent in Russian?’
    ‘Better than me, but that’s not saying much.’
    ‘“To speak another language is to have a second soul.”’
    ‘I’m not sure I find that idea reassuring.’
    The only large-format book was a stained copy of
When the Wind Blows
, with an elderly and ordinary-looking cartooncouple on the front. Flicking through, Tom discovered it took them forty-eight pages to die of radiation sickness.
    ‘Edward hates that book,’ Anna said.
    ‘That’s why Alex owns it?’
    ‘No. She really likes it. It makes her cry.’
    An advertisement for
The Company of Wolves
torn from
Cosmopolitan
had Sellotape scars to say it had been up somewhere before. Beside it, a poster for
Legend
showed Tim Curry painted red and wearing horns.
    ‘What are we looking for?’ Anna asked.
    ‘A photograph of the East German girl would be good. A note of where the party was being held would be better. Do you know if your daughter kept a diary?’
    ‘Not that I’m aware.’
    On the bedside cabinet was a tiny cardboard box; Tom opened it without asking, feeling Lady Masterton bridle slightly.
    ‘What should be in here?’ Tom asked.
    ‘A jade ring from Lizzie. It’s ghastly. And not jade, obviously. Luckily it’s too big and keeps falling off, even when we tied cotton round the back. Alex must have decided to wear it after all.’
    Tom wondered if maybe her friendship with Lizzie wasn’t over. Or perhaps Alex had another reason for taking the ring. The only photograph on display was a Polaroid of a busty teenager in a tight pink top and purple ra-ra skirt, her hair teased to the point of bullying.
    ‘Lizzie?’ Tom asked, and Anna nodded.
    ‘And that?’ He pointed to a television and keypad.
    ‘Alex’s computer.’
    ‘
Her computer?
’
    ‘It works like a fancy typewriter. Alex expressed interest and Edward thought …’ Anna shrugged. ‘Who knows whathe thought? Perhaps that anything was better than hiding up here sulking.’
    ‘Lady Masterton … would you mind if I did the rest alone?’
    She did mind. She minded very much. Forcing a smile, she said, ‘It’s Anna. And that’s fine. There are things I should do. I’ll tell Edward you’re still up here.’
    The silent precision with which Anna Masterton shut the door almost shamed Tom into calling her back.
    Stripping back Alex’s duvet, Tom checked the bottom