The Pavilion Man Read online

  The Pavilion Man

  R.P.THOMPSON

  Chapter 1

  Mikhail Andrei Raspopov wrapped in a soft velvet cloth an ornate replica of a key and door handle he had just made on his blacksmith bench and handed it over to a representative the from St Isaac’s Cathedral. He received in return a large white envelope sealed with the cathedral's crest. With his sharp knife, he opened it by cutting on one side so as not to break the seal as it seemed to him a perfect memento of his first ever payment in his new business. Inside the envelope were a few banknotes of 1000 rubles. He smiled to himself, proud that he had a blacksmith business in St Petersburg and that this payment from one of the largest cathedrals in Russia was an auspicious start.

  Mikhail was a muscular man, with his blond hair cut very short to his scalp, with a full beard neatly trimmed, and striking blue eyes. He had come to St Petersburg from Uts-Tsilma, a village in the Komi Republic north-east of Russia. His family had a long tradition as craftsmen and blacksmiths. As a child he learned the family trade by watching his father and grandfather as they applied their craft by making both the most ordinary of things from keys, padlocks and nails to creating the most beautiful desirable gates, handles and various forms of artistic sculptures with the artistry of their tools. Mikhail had a natural talent for creating things with his hands, but in his late teens when his father died, he decided to leave the village life and head to St Petersburg.

  “They’ve paid you already!” said his wife Yelena as she put down the tray on the table with a mug of coffee and a plate of small warm pyshki, a crispy fried dough sprinkled with powdered sugar – a famous St Petersburg doughnut.

  “Yes, you see we can always trust the church. This payment will be the first of many as they have promised me more work,” said Mikhail still smiling as he held the banknotes in his hands.

  “This is a good start for us, Mikhail; I know from my heart it is,” replied Yelena. She was twenty-five, with long brown hair plaited to one side with a small green bow tied at the end that complemented her green eyes.

  “I’ve made something for you too, my darling,” said Mikhail moving towards a shelf behind him.

  “You work too hard. What is it, Mikhail?”

  Mikhail picked up a candlestick holder from the shelf that he had designed and crafted with his blacksmith's tools and handed it to her.

  “It’s beautiful, Mikhail, I love it,” said Yelena putting her arms around him as they kissed.

  “Look underneath it,” said Mikhail pointing to the base of the candlestick holder.

  Yelena turned over the elaborately designed object and saw at the base a heart-shaped design carved with their initials – Y & M – etched on a strip of metal.

  “Oh, Mikhail, I’ll treasure this for the rest of my life,” said Yelena kissing him again.

  “I’m going to make this business a big success for you and our house full of children.”

  “A house full of children! One child is all I can handle at the moment.”

  “How is our little Marina?”

  “She is sleeping; we have a good baby. We’re lucky that with all the noise you make down here it doesn’t wake her in the office.”

  “She’s born to be a blacksmith’s daughter.”

  “And a blacksmith’s daughter I want her to stay. I’m happy that you left the intelligence service.”

  “I would have stayed with the agency for the rest of my life if things had not changed. I was proud to be of service to my country, but now all I want is to be the best blacksmith in Russia.”

  “I know you would never have left, but I feared every time you went to work, and now with our new life in this workshop we are safe.”

  Mikhail was about to kiss Yelena again, but stopped as he heard the workshop’s doorbell ring. Moving quickly to open the large double wooden doors for fear of not losing any much-needed customers he was disappointed to see standing before him were his old colleagues from the intelligence service – Sergei Bogdanov and Viktor Novikov. Immediately he became agitated at the sight of them.

  “What are you two doing here? It can’t be something you want me to make,” said Mikhail.

  “You’ve done well for yourself, Mikhail Andrei. This workshop looks very professional,” said Sergei.

  “Soon he will be the richest blacksmith in St Petersburg, maybe even the whole of Russia,” said Viktor.

  “Like he is the best at breaking into buildings,” replied Sergei.

  Yelena, seeing that Mikhail was about to get more upset, tried to divert the discussion.

  “Can I offer you both coffee and something to eat?” asked Yelena.

  “No thank you, Yelena, they look delicious. We want to congratulate you both on opening this business,” said Viktor.

  “Thank you, Viktor; it has taken us a good six months to set up.”

  “And I’m sure it will be a success. We came to speak to Mikhail about a little private matter that we need to attend to urgently,” added Sergei.

  “Excuse me; I need to check on Marina upstairs,” said Yelena. Mikhail remained silent and watched Yelena as she walked up the stairs.

  Viktor and Sergei were walking around the workshop touching his blacksmith's tools; they waited until Yelena was out of sight before they spoke.

  “Mikhail, life seems to be treating you well, you have everything, a beautiful wife, newborn baby and now this new business,” said Viktor.

  “It is an honest living,” replied Mikhail.

  “And a profitable one I hope. I see you don’t miss your old life with us,” said Sergei.

  “Why are you two not busy keeping our country safe rather than coming to my humble shop for what I don’t know?”

  “We are investigating something serious, that’s why we’re here,” said Sergei.

  “I have no information for you whatever it is,” said Mikhail.

  “We need your help tonight,” said Sergei.

  “For what? I’ve retired from the intelligence service, I’m a simple blacksmith now,” said Mikhail taking a hammer out of Viktor’s hands.

  “You forget, Mikhail, that this new shop and everything in it is with the help of our agency,” said Sergei.

  “Who told you that? I paid for this with the money I saved.”

  “And how did you imagine you could get a shop like this and a nice flat around the corner in this area?” said Sergei.

  “Everything is legal I have the paperwork,” replied Mikhail.

  “Really? And does your paperwork say we forced the owners to sell it cheaper than they wanted to reward you for service to our agency?” replied Sergei.

  “And now you’re here for your payment. How much?” asked Mikhail.

  “No money, we are here to call on your expert services,” said Sergei.

  “You are the best locksmith we know, and tonight we need a locksmith. We’ll even give you money,” said Viktor.

  “I don’t want your money. There are many locksmiths, get someone else,” said Mikhail finding it hard to keep calm after hearing that his new business premises were obtained by ill-gotten means.

  “Our country needs you now. That is why we have trained you well,” said Sergei.

  Mikhail knew these words very well as he had used them on many occasions himself to deliver a warning to other ex-intelligence agents who tried to escape when their skills were needed by the intelligence agency to do something after they had left the service. He knew this was a threat and that if he were to refuse, the consequences of not doing what they wanted would destroy any chance he had of having a new life.

  “What is it you want me to do?” asked Mikhail.

  “When you close tonight, we’ll go to Igor Zaslavsky’s business premises; there are some important docu
ments we need to collect,” said Sergei.

  “We’ll pick you up tonight at 7pm and drive to Moscow,” said Viktor.

  “But his television station will be hard to get into, he must have armed guards there?” questioned Mikhail.

  “No, this is not his main office. It’s a smaller office where he keeps the documents we need,” said Sergei.

  “This is the last time I will help you both. Once, that is it,” replied Mikhail.

  “Once is all we need and then you’ll be free to get back to your nice life,” said Viktor.

  “We’ll see you tonight, my friend,” said Sergei.

  Mikhail did not answer as his ex-colleagues walked calmly out of the workshop.

  At 7pm precisely the three men drove to one of the smaller offices belonging to Igor Zaslavsky in Moscow. He was one of the wealthiest businessmen in the country; Igor owned a television station, many properties and other businesses. His success as a businessman was admired and resented in equal measure. Some thought him a charming, generous man who provided low-cost housing to the poor but others believed he could not have achieved all his wealth in the space of five years without being ruthless, stealing it at the expense of his country, or both.

  “Where is the security?” asked Mikhail as they sat outside Igor’s office building.

  “We told him to come to work late,” said Viktor.

  “So, he’s in on this too. How much did you pay him?” said Mikhail.

  “Let’s say he couldn’t refuse our offer,” replied Viktor.

  “Why didn’t you ask him for the key to get in and you wouldn’t need me?”

  “We are not here to discuss these things, just get us in,” said Sergei.

  Within moments Mikhail broke into the office and gained entry. Viktor went straight to the filing cabinet looking for documents while Sergei took out electrical plugs from his bags, went to each electrical point and replaced all the plugs with new ones.

  Mikhail stood at the door watching in silence as Sergei and Viktor moved quickly to get what they wanted.

  “Let’s go now; the microphones in the plugs will pick up all the conversations.”

  “Just as well as there are no documents worth taking here,” said Viktor.

  “Are you sure this small office belongs to Igor? It looks cheap for a rich man,” asked Mikhail.

  “We don’t make mistakes like that,” replied Sergei.

  “No, just mistakes that you forget to ask the security for the key, so you don't need to break in like this.”

  “This office belongs to one of Igor’s business associates, but he comes here often to meetings,” said Viktor.

  Within fifteen minutes, they were out of the office leaving nothing out of place. When they got back to the car they watched as the security guard for the building arrived at the door. He looked over at the three men sitting in the car and nodded to Sergei before going into the building with his key.

  “He’s a good man, he loves his country,” said Sergei as they drove off.

  “Has he worked for the intelligence service as well?” asked Mikhail.

  “No, but he’s hoping we can put in a word and get him in,” replied Viktor.

  “Our type of work is in great demand. Many want to join the intelligence service,” said Sergei.

  “Viktor, why are you driving so slowly? It’s going to take all night to get to St Petersburg the way you are driving,” said Mikhail, still annoyed that they had forced him to take part.

  “We’re not finished in Moscow yet, there is one more place to go to,” said Sergei.

  “One more place? I don’t have the time; I have to be up early in the morning. I have a lot of work to do at the blacksmith’s.”

  “Don’t worry, Mikhail, we won’t be calling you to do this again,” said Viktor.

  They drove the car to a newly built apartment block; no one had yet moved in. The whole place was in darkness except a small portable cabin at the entrance to the building with a security man sitting inside under a single light.

  “You stay in the car, Mikhail Andrei. This time we have our special keys to get in,” said Sergei.

  Watching through the rear-view window, Mikhail saw Sergei and Viktor remove two bags from the boot of the car and take them to the man sitting in the cabin. The three men soon disappeared as they passed a hoarding with a sign ‘Zaslavsky Homes’ and went around the back of the building.

  It was another half an hour before Sergei and Viktor appeared again and walked back to the car. There was no sign of the security man. When the two intelligent officers got back into the car to drive off, they said nothing to Mikhail. Sergei took over from Viktor to drive. He asked Mikhail to get out and sit in the back seat while Viktor sat next to him in the front. Wasting no time Sergei sped off so fast out of the area that Mikhail had to hang on to the car door handle not to be thrown around in the back seat. They arrived in St Petersburg in the shortest possible time and dropped Mikhail off at his blacksmith's workshop. As he left the car, Mikhail did not look back or say anything to his old colleagues. All he had on his mind was that this would be the last time he would see them. When they had gone, he walked up the street towards his apartment, eager to get back to his wife and baby daughter.

  Chapter 2

  Mikhail barely slept that night; he woke at 4am and just lay in bed going over in his mind the events of the day before; from feelings of the joy of opening his new business to the lows of Serge and Viktor turning up at his workshop and their trip to Moscow. When Yelena got up at 5am he followed her into the kitchen as he had planned to go to work at 7am as usual. Mikhail drank his coffee as Yelena fed Marina at the kitchen table. They heard a news report on the radio about the apartment block he had visited the night before in Moscow.

  “A new block of apartments by Zaslavsky Homes in Moscow was destroyed by fire last night. A watchman looking after the newly built apartments was found unconscious. Luckily for him the police were alerted by an anonymous caller. The watchman is in a stable condition in hospital. The apartments had no occupants at the time. Police are investigating if the fire was due to an electrical fault or arson.”

  Mikhail angrily put his mug of coffee down on the kitchen table and rang Sergei, putting his phone on loudspeaker so that Yelena could hear everything.

  “Sergei, what did you and Viktor do last night at the apartment buildings?” said Mikhail.

  “What are you talking about?” replied Sergei.

  “The apartment block we went to last night has burnt down, and the watchman is in hospital.”

  “Mikhail, you have nothing to worry about, forget we ever came to you last night. It is our business, not yours.” The phone line suddenly went dead.

  “Sergei, Sergei!” shouted Mikhail. He tried to get him back on the phone, but there was no answer.

  “Oh, Mikhail, what have they got you involved in?” asked Yelena.

  “Sergei and Viktor have been up to their old tricks.”

  “Do you think they deliberately set fire to the apartment blocks?”

  “Yes, they told me to stay in the car while they spoke to the watchman. I think one of them must have made the anonymous call about the fire,” said Mikhail.

  “To save the watchman, and you think it was all planned?”

  “Yes, this is their style.”

  “But why would a watchman put his life in danger like this?”

  “Yelena, I know how these men work, the watchman’s reward must have been worth the risk to him.”

  “Oh Mikhail, this is horrible, hardworking people like us have lost their homes and all their money.”

  “Yes, Yelena, I know the law in this country. If a property burns down, you get nothing and the land reverts to the State.”

  “I wish you hadn’t opened the door to them yesterday. Now look what your intelligence people have done to us.”

  “Don’t worry, Yelena. I know important people in the intelligence service who won’t accept this. I am going to repo
rt it. Sergei and Viktor were not trained to do these kinds of criminal things.”

  “I thought you had left your old life behind, now it’s back to haunt us,” said Yelena.

  “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you and Marina. I’m going to expose these criminals once and for all.”

  “No don’t, Mikhail. Leave it to the police. We can’t go back to how it was. I want us to live a different life now,” said Yelena.

  “You’re right. I’ll get no justice. Sergei and Viktor will find a way to blame it on me, and I would be the one thrown in jail. I know how this dirty system works.”

  “I don’t want us to end up like that; we can’t do this to Marina. I know how much you hate all this corruption but don’t get involved,” said Yelena cuddling her baby daughter even tighter.

  “You are right, my darling, I’ll leave it alone now. I’ve tried to walk on a straight road while others have not. Sergei and Viktor were good people once, highly trained, patriotic but now they only want money.”

  Mikhail went to work at his blacksmith's workshop, but all day the report of the burnt-out Zaslavsky apartment building played on his mind. Trying to block out any thoughts about it he used his blacksmith tools to hammer and chisel aggressively, punching, bending, splitting metals, but even this did nothing to help him focus his mind. By late afternoon Mikhail became frustrated at not being able to do anything about the fire. He decided to shut up shop and go home early. When he was about to lock the doors he felt a tap on his shoulder, turning around, he saw it was Viktor.

  “What are you doing here again, Viktor?”

  “Sorry, Mikhail, but we need your skills this weekend.”

  “No, I’m not coming. Sergei said this morning it was none of my business. I don’t work for the intelligence agency any more. Find somebody else.”

  “I promise this is the last time, Mikhail.”

  “The last time for what, burning buildings down, bugging offices?”

  “We are going to Igor’s house,” said Viktor.

  “No, not we, Viktor, you and Sergei. What are you planning at Igor’s house, to kill him?”