The Half Truth

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John motioned with his head to the other side of the road. Another man Tina didn’t recognise lounged against the side of a black BMW. ‘Martin, he’s my partner.’

‘Two of you. That sounds to me like everything is not fine.’

She watched John’s face for any sign that she might be right. It was impassive. ‘Can we come in?’ he said after a moment.

‘I suppose you had better.’

Tina hoped that the air of calm she was desperately trying to project was working. She didn’t want to alarm Dimitri any more than he had already been the past few weeks. She was very much aware he was picking up on her anxieties. He had started having upsetting dreams about hearing footsteps in the night and being watched. A couple of nights ago, his whimpering had woken her, the result of a nightmare that someone was in his room.

Once inside she busied herself making tea for the adults and poured a glass of milk for her son. ‘Why don’t you pop the TV on?’ she said to Dimitri as she took the drink and a biscuit through to the living room.

‘TV? Now?’ said Dimitri excitedly. ‘I can watch it now?’

‘Yes, just this once I’ll make an exception to no TV immediately you get in. You can do your reading and writing later instead.’

Martin followed her into the living room. ‘I’ll watch TV with you, if you want. Haven’t seen Tom and Jerry in years.’

‘Tom and Jerry,’ said Dimitri. ‘I don’t watch that, it’s for babies. No, I’m going to watch Ben 10.’

‘Ben what?’

‘Sit down and you’ll find out,’ said Tina. She was grateful that Martin was acting as a distraction for Dimitri but, at the same time, apprehensive as to what John was about to spring on her.

‘How’s everything?’ John asked her as she came back into the kitchen.

‘Okay. Nothing I can really put my finger on,’ said Tina, motioning towards the table. She took the two cups over. ‘I’ve still got that being watched feeling, which I can’t seem to shake off. I used to always leave the curtains and blinds open when it was dark, but I don’t any more. I find myself double-checking doors are locked. That sort of thing.’

‘You can call me if you’re worried about anything,’ said John.

‘Thank you but I don’t really think you want me to call you at every bump in the night.’ She took a sip of her drink. ‘Last night, I was lying in bed and I was sure I could hear floorboards creaking every now and then.’

‘Really?’

She gave a small laugh at the look of concern on his face. ‘You know what these old houses are like. I was just dropping off to sleep, so I wasn’t really sure what it was. Probably the wind or something.’

‘You weren’t frightened?’

Tina dropped her eyes. She felt foolish, although at the time she had woken with a start and her heart had raced liked an F1 car off the starting grid. ‘Just a bit unnerved. What with what’s been going on recently. I think I’ve been overreacting. Anyway, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?’

‘I don’t want to alarm you any more, but things have moved on with our investigation and we know Pavel came into the country over a couple of weeks ago.’

Tina slowly put her cup of the table. ‘Do you think it was him I saw in the garden?’

John shrugged. ‘Honestly, I can’t say. We don’t know why he’s here. Has he been in touch with you at all?’

‘No. No, he hasn’t. I don’t really know what to make of it. What exactly do you think Pavel is involved in? Why do you need to speak to him?’

She watched John take a sip of his tea, clearly stalling for time as he weighed up her question and formulated his response. His eyes met hers. The evening light bounced off the flecks of gold that laced his green eyes. Troubled eyes. She braced herself for his response.

‘And before you say “to help us with our enquiries” you need to come up with a better reason than that.’ She felt agitated now. John was definitely holding back.

‘I’d love to tell you everything, but at this stage in the investigation …’

She held up her hand to stop him continuing. ‘Police bullshit. Waffle. Call it what you like, but it’s not answering the question.’ She saw the corners of his mouth twitch slightly, as if amused, before a frown settled on his face. He gently drummed his fingers on the table. Long, lean fingers that looked like they should be playing the piano. Fingernails clipped short. There was no wedding band or even a sign that he had ever worn a ring on his finger. She wondered briefly if there was a girlfriend on the scene.

‘Okay, I’ll be honest with you,’ he said.

‘Good. I don’t like being taken for a fool and not told everything.’

‘Pavel was involved in an organised money-laundering ring.’

‘Money-laundering.’ Tina couldn’t help giving a small laugh. The serious look on John’s face killed her laughter. ‘That’s a serious offence. Is there anything else?’

‘Organised crime. Armed robbery and money-laundering. Yeah, you could say they are serious offences.’

‘I knew he was involved with the Porboski gang, but I didn’t think it was anything as serious as armed robbery and money-laundering,’ said Tina. ‘I thought it was more petty crime, a bit of smuggling in vodka or passing on stolen items – that sort of thing.’

‘Much more serious,’ said John. ‘Murder.’

Tina balked. Murder? Pavel? No, that was way off.

‘Are you sure?’ she said. ‘You think Pavel is involved with a murder? Who?’

‘A police officer.’

‘Oh God, that’s serious.’ Tina rested her head in her hands.

‘All murder is serious,’ said John.

There was an uneasy silence whilst Tina took in what she had just been told. Much as she disliked Pavel, she had never had him down as a hardened criminal – a murderer.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said at last. ‘I’m finding this really hard to take in. Sasha never said a word. He couldn’t have known.’

‘Do you recognise this man?’ said John. The change in direction was welcomed. Tina looked at the photograph John placed on the table in front of her.

‘Is he dead?’ She leaned back in her chair, averting her eyes from the image.

‘Yes, he is,’ said John. ‘Found at some docks in London in the last few days. We believe he was looking for Pavel.’

‘Pavel’s very popular.’ Her voice was dry. ‘And no, I don’t recognise him.’

‘Are you sure? Perhaps he came into the deli your husband ran?’

Tina’s eyes flipped to him. ‘How did you know Sasha ran a deli?’ She never referred to it as a deli, it was always ‘the shop’.

‘It’s on record,’ said John. He moved position in his seat. ‘Intelligence-gathering.’

‘Surveillance? Were you watching the shop? Have you been spying on us?’

‘Gathering information on suspected criminals goes with the job. It says here that Pavel frequented a deli. You mentioned the shop before. I put two and two together. It’s what I do. I’m a detective.’ He gave a smile.

‘Sorry, of course,’ said Tina. ‘I’m just a bit on edge, that’s all.’

‘It’s okay,’ said John. He picked the photo up of Ivan Gromov and slipped it back into his inside pocket. ‘Did Sasha ever give you anything to look after? Did he ever say anything about what Pavel was up to?’

Tina thought back and shook her head. ‘As I said before, we didn’t talk about Pavel and as for giving me anything of significance, then, no. He didn’t.’

‘Okay, well thanks for your time again,’ said John. He stood up. ‘If you think of anything, let me know. In the meantime, we’re going to keep a discreet eye out for Pavel. Surveillance. Don’t look alarmed. There’s nothing for you to worry about.’

‘You think he will try and contact me?’

‘It’s one of our theories. We’ll be parked up overnight, in case he does show.’ He passed Tina his card. ‘Here’s my number, put it in your phone. If you think of anything, call me. If you’re worried about anything, call me.’

‘Thank you,’ said Tina. She couldn’t help feeling slightly unnerved again and that John was keeping something from her. ‘Is there anything I should know?’

‘Please don’t worry,’ said John. ‘If there are any developments, I’ll contact you straight away.’

‘What did you tell her?’ said Martin as John got into the passenger seat of the BMW.

‘That Pavel was back in the UK. Kept it simple for now. I don’t want her freaking out on us,’ said John. ‘We need her to draw Pavel out of the woodwork.’

‘What’s the plan now?’

‘Back to the office. I want to check in with the team. See if anyone has got any info about the Porboski gang making a comeback. You have another chat with Baz Fisher. All this poking around is bound to have stirred up the locals. He might have heard some more by now.’ John looked up at 17 Belfour Avenue. ‘I’ll come back later to see if Pavel turns up.’

‘So, go on, admit it,’ said Martin.

‘Admit what?’ said John. He had an idea what Martin was referring to, but he wasn’t going to make it easy. The ribbing that would follow would be enough.

‘You’ve got more than just a passing interest in Mrs B.’ Martin pushed the keys into the ignition and fired up the engine.

‘Of course I have. This case means a lot to me,’ said John. He fastened his seat belt and looked straight ahead, purposefully avoiding any eye contact with his friend.

‘You know what I mean,’ said Martin as he pulled out onto Belfour Terrace. ‘Just don’t let Brogan get wind of it.’

‘You worry about the driving and I’ll worry about what Brogan knows, or thinks he knows,’ said John. ‘I’m not about to compromise the operation, despite my suspicions. I’m sure Tina is the link, even if she doesn’t know it herself.’

‘See! I told you.’ A big grin swept across Martin’s face.

‘What?’

‘It’s Tina, now. Not Mrs Bolotnikov. Absolutely proves my point.’

John shook his head. ‘You’re a dick at times, you know that?’

‘It might have been said once or twice before. Mostly by you, granted. But, I’m a dick who’s right.’ Martin laughed out loud, clearly delighted with himself.

Trouble was, John couldn’t really deny it. He was very much taken with Tina. Despite thinking he knew her from the surveillance five years ago, he didn’t know the woman she was now. She was something of an enigma, a woman who sparked his interest in more ways than one. However, he was painfully aware that she was, at best, a witness, at worst a suspect.

Chapter 10 (#ulink_55522af4-3cbb-5811-93cf-541e030fd42f)

Tina watched from her window as the BMW drew off down the road. She craned her neck until it had disappeared out of sight. A little feeling of unease snuck up on her and she glanced up and down the road, half expecting to see Pavel outside.

What exactly he was doing back in the UK, she had no idea. Had he really been spying on her? She wished she could have found out more about what he had been up to when he had lived in the UK, but John had been tight-lipped.

She wondered if Sasha had known anything. He had certainly never given her any indication that Pavel was mixed up in anything as serious as murder. Sasha would have told her. They shared everything. She turned away from the window and her eyes came to rest on the photo frame on the mantelpiece. She walked over and picked it up. A sparkly frame with bits of tiny mirror tiles, sparkly glass, a bric-a-brac home-crafted frame that Sasha had given her. Inside was a photograph of the two of them, taken on Brighton Pier.

She smiled. The frame really wasn’t her style and didn’t fit in with anything else in the house. She remembered how proud Sasha had been when he had presented it to her. She had wanted to laugh, but he had been deadly serious when he said how precious it was. A token of how precious she was and how precious their love was. How sad that they had so little time together. She replaced the frame.

‘I’m going to pop upstairs to get changed,’ she said to Dimitri. ‘Then I’ll go next door and see if Mr Cooper wants some tea. You okay there?’

A brief ‘yes’ in reply, which didn’t even involve her son taking his eyes from the screen. Okay, the TV wasn’t the ideal babysitter, but today she was grateful for it.

Tina sighed to herself as she climbed the stairs, picking up a couple of toys that Dimitri had discarded at some point that morning before school. All she ever seemed to do was tidy up after him. How was it possible a six-year-old could make so much mess? She reached the landing and, just to prove her point, there was a sprinkling of what looked like powder on the carpet.

She scuffed it with her foot in an attempt to rub it in. She paused. Not simply because she knew she was being lazy and should really get the Hoover out, but because the powder had a grey tinge to it. What on earth had he tipped out? She looked into his bedroom and noticed an old cardboard box in the corner that he had brought home from school. Well, he told her it was a robot, hence the silver foil stuck randomly all over it, together with milk-bottle lids. The dust and dirt had probably come from there. She went to call out his name and tell him to come and tidy up, but stopped herself.