The Case of the General's Thumb Read Online Free PDF

between question and answer lengthened. Viktor decided to call it a day.
    â€œDon’t forget what you said about getting the body released,” she reminded him. “It’s so awkward. Colleagues, neighbours all the time phoning and asking when the funeral is.”
    Viktor said he’d not forgotten.
    He drove her to her door and was rewarded with a pleasant smile.
    He returned to District shortly before one only to learn that Bronitsky’s body was missing, the antediluvian alarm at the forensic lab. having been deactivated during the night. Pausing only to jot down the salient points of his interview, Viktor dashed out to his car.

10
    Not having drawn his curtain, Nik woke with the sun at 5.15. How long had he slept? Two hours? Three? He had no idea.
    Things were moving fast. How and where he was to rescue Sakhno, he had yet to discover. But soon they’d be on the run. So what to do with his things? And the five thousand dollars wrapped in a towel in his case?
    Ivan Lvovich was coming at 11.00. It was now only 5.30. He had time, but for what?
    Mechanically, he got up, dressed, put the kettle on, sliced bread, sausage, cheese, drank coffee, and began to think more calmly.
    He couldn’t take his cases with him, and wasn’t keen on leaving them in the chalet. He could have left them with friends, but his having no friends in Kiev or anywhere else in Ukraine was why he was here, ideally unidentifiable if found dead, even if pictured on television. Provided Valentin and Svetlana weren’t watching … Now there was a thought!
    Leaving his coffee, he dragged both cases from under the bed and took out the towel-wrapped dollars, a notebook, and a folder containing birth certificate, army papers, marriage certificate.
    It would be nice to give them something. The Phillips electric razor, bought on stupid impulse, still boxed and unused, instructions in Arabic – as if one needed to be told how to shave! – would do for Valentin. And for Svetlana, the fine Chinese fountain pen with which he wrote the address of their Saratov relatives. With dollars, papers and presents in a Marlboro carrier bag, he set off. All was quiet.
    Valentin was not, as he had hoped, fishing.
    The house, when he reached it, was sleeping. He hesitated to knock, but in the end he did. There was nothing else for it.
    The sleepy Valentin who eventually opened he greeted with a torrent of apology.
    â€œBit off colour, I’m afraid,” Valentin confessed, letting him in. “Either a cold or something I ate. Like some tea?”
    Seated again at the long pine table, Nik produced his presents.
    â€œI have a favour to ask – that is, if you’ve not said anything to anyone about our having met.”
    â€œI haven’t, no,” said Valentin, clearly surprised.
    â€œAnd don’t, please. I’ve been called away. I can’t say more. And since you are the only people I know here, I’d like to leave these things.”
    He emptied the carrier on the table.
    â€œMoney, papers, my wife’s address. If I’m not back in two months, let her know you have my stuff … I’m sorry to land you with this.”
    â€œNo problem.”
    Returning to the chalet, Nik made a second breakfast, then sat outside on the wooden step.
    Sun, birds, trees – a fairy-tale morning! Such as he wished all his mornings to be!
    A woodpecker began to hammer. Eventually he spotted it high up on a tall dead pine. The first he’d heard since childhood. There’d been no woodpeckers in Tadzhikistan.

11
    So far Viktor had worked solo, with no one, apart from the invisible Georgiy, showing any interest in the case of the retired general, though the Mazda and mobile phone were evidence of its importance to someone somewhere.
    The disappearance of the body brought about a change: phone calls from Directorate, phone calls from Ministry, both demanding an all-out effort.
    Even Ratko was