Read A Vengeful Longing Online
Authors: R. N. Morris
A Vengeful Longing (20 page)
Virginsky did not answer. It was clear that the questions were asked rhetorically.
‘Ruslan Vladimirovich Vakhramev?’ Porfiry’s voice seemed to come from far away. He turned to face Virginsky, as if he did want an answer after all. He had finished his cigarette.
‘But Vakhramev has confessed to visiting prostitutes. A true hypocrite would not be able to do that, I feel,’ said Virginsky.
‘Yes. He even wrote it all down in a diary for his wife to read. What a charming wedding present that must have made.’
‘I admire him for doing that.’
‘Do not admire him too much. You see, he did not destroy his bachelor diary as he promised her.’
‘How can you know that?’
Porfiry shrugged. ‘How could he have borne to do so? He would have been destroying part of himself.’
‘But what if it was a part of himself he wished to destroy?’
‘Hmm. That is certainly the impression he wished to give to his angelic wife.’
‘I am beginning to wonder, Porfiry Petrovich, whether the only qualification one needs to be an investigating magistrate is a mind as filthy as your hated Ditch out there. That and an ability to suspect everyone of the vilest acts.’
Porfiry half-turned, almost wistfully, back towards the window. ‘Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps the only reason I don’t like the Ditch is because it reminds me of myself.’
‘You certainly spend long enough staring at it. But why can’t you take Vakhramev’s word that he destroyed the diary?’
‘Because he did not give me his word. He did not say that he had destroyed it at all. He merely said that he had promised his fiancée that he would destroy it. And when I deliberately chose to assume that this meant the diary was destroyed, he became quite embarrassed, and yet did not correct the misapprehension.’
Virginsky angled his head, almost conceding the point, but allowing himself to retain some scepticism. ‘But perhaps there was no misapprehension?’
‘No, no, no,’ said Porfiry shortly. ‘When you have worked in this job as long as I have you will learn to pay especial regard to the precise form of words people choose, particularly suspects.’
‘So you do suspect him of killing Setochkin?’
‘I suspect him of something. I suspect him of lying to his wife. I suspect him of not destroying the diary. I suspect him of continuing to visit prostitutes after his marriage. Despite his deep atonement and repentance. Yes, he continued in that - how shall I describe it? -
practice
for at least six and possibly seven years after he had abased himself with his face in the mud.’
practice
for at least six and possibly seven years after he had abased himself with his face in the mud.’
‘Again, how can you know that?’
‘Because he recognised the photograph of Raisa Ivanovna. From what Meyer said of Raisa Ivanovna’s history, she cannot have worked at Madam Josephine’s for long. A year, possibly two at most. Raisa Ivanovna was already pregnant with Grigory when Martin Meyer married her. Grigory was thirteen at the time of his death. Let us say, then, that Raisa Ivanovna was at Madam Josephine’s fourteen years ago - which is indeed the timescale given in the malicious letter sent to Meyer. The photograph I showed Vakhramev must have been taken soon after then. And yet Vakhramev has been married to his angel for twenty years.’
Virginsky was silent for some time, during which Porfiry lit and began smoking another cigarette. ‘Do they help, the cigarettes, really?’
Porfiry held the case out towards Virginsky, who nodded once and took one. He coughed three times as Porfiry lit it for him, then held the cigarette away from his face and studied the burning tip. ‘You said you were not here to judge him, but that is what you have done. Despite the fact that you yourself have confessed to identical peccadilloes.’
‘What peccadilloes have I confessed to?’ Porfiry narrowed his eyes.
‘To visiting brothels. You said that you have visited brothels.’
‘I said that I had visited one establishment. Fräulein Keller’s. I went there once - no, actually, twice I think it was - in the course of the investigation during which you and I first became acquainted, Pavel Pavlovich.’
Virginsky gingerly attempted another inhalation. ‘So how do you?’
Porfiry met the question with an innocent blink.
‘Deal with the issue of needs?’
Porfiry looked at Virginsky thoughtfully but did not seem inclined to provide an answer. At any rate, there was a knock at the door and Zamyotov came in, as usual without waiting to be admitted.
‘There are some
females
here . . .’ His emphasis was one of disapproval, outrage almost. ‘They claim to be connected with that individual Vakhramev.’
females
here . . .’ His emphasis was one of disapproval, outrage almost. ‘They claim to be connected with that individual Vakhramev.’
In his wake, was the sense of a commotion nearing.
5
The angel (and her daughter)
‘Ruffians! Ruffians and rogues!’
Bursting in like a cannonade of silk, the woman came to a halt before Porfiry, her eyes wrathful and seeking. ‘Where is he? Where is our Vakhramev? What have you done with him?’
She was compact, almost compressed, a little shorter than Porfiry and somewhat stouter. She moved with a top-heavy momentum. Porfiry was relieved that she had stopped short of charging him. Her mouth was pinched with determined indignation.
Following her into the room was a drifting, aloof girl of about nineteen or twenty, who looked around her from the vantage point of a long neck, seemingly without seeing, as if she did not want her vision to be demeaned by the objects it might fall upon. If she believed herself visible to those around her (for example, to Virginsky, who could not take his eyes off her), she certainly gave no indication that they were visible to her.
‘We are holding him,’ said Porfiry, ‘in a cell.’
‘Ruslan Vladimirovich Vakhramev? In a cell?’
‘I’m afraid so, madam.’
This provoked a disdainful jerk of the head from the drifting girl. Her gaze, though, refused to come anywhere near Porfiry.
‘Who, may I ask, are you?’ ventured Porfiry to the indignant woman.
‘What business is it of yours?’
‘I am Porfiry Petrovich, investigating magistrate. I am dealing with the case in which Vakhramev is implicated.’
‘
Implicated?
How dare you!’
Implicated?
How dare you!’
‘Are you, by any chance, his wife?’
‘I am Nastasya Petrovna Vakhrameva and I have the honour to be the wife of Ruslan Vladimirovich Vakhramev. I command you to release him this instant.’
‘I’m afraid that will not be possible. A man has been murdered. Until we have eliminated Ruslan Vladimirovich from our investigations, it will be necessary to hold him in a secure place.’
‘I have never heard of anything so ridiculous in my life. You take him away without a word to his family. He is a gentleman. We have friends, you know. Friends who could crush you like a beetle. ’ The woman pulled on Porfiry’s shoulder and hissed into his ear: ‘Yaroslav Nikolayevich Liputin.’ When she pulled back, Porfiry saw that she had a gleeful smile on her face. ‘There! That’s scared him. That’s right. Yaroslav Nikolayevich Liputin. So, what are you waiting for? Release Vakhramev.’
‘I’m not sure I understand,’ said Porfiry. ‘You are friends with the
prokuror
?’
prokuror
?’
The woman nodded. ‘And he is not happy about Vakhramev’s arrest, let me tell you. He is on his way here now. So, if you want to avoid trouble, little man, you would do well to release Ruslan Vladimirovich immediately.’
‘As I have explained, that will not be possible. As a matter of course, Yaroslav Nikolayevich would be informed of the details of the case. He frequently visits the department.’
‘He is furious. When Vakhramev failed to come home, I naturally went straight to my good friend Yaroslav Nikolayevich. Good friend that he is, he made enquiries on our behalf. That is how we discovered that you had brought Vakhramev here. I would not like to be in your shoes when Yaroslav Nikolayevich arrives.’
‘It is always a pleasure to receive a visit from Yaroslav Nikolayevich. I’m sure today will be no exception,’ said Porfiry with a tense smile.
‘Whom did he murder?’ The question came, unexpectedly, from the drifting girl, who angled her head in the direction of the ceiling, while regarding Porfiry out of the corner of her eye.
‘The victim, I believe, is known to you, if I am correct in assuming that you are Tatyana Ruslanovna. It is Colonel Alexei Setochkin.’
‘Alyosha!’ There was a moment in which her disconnected gaze latched on to Porfiry hungrily. She even turned her head to face him. But then she rolled her eyes upwards in a gesture of dismissal. ‘He had no need to do that. I had finished with Alyosha.’
‘Tatyana,’ said Nastasya Petrovna darkly. ‘What is the meaning of this? Who is this Alyosha?’
‘A nobody. I’m glad he’s dead. I will congratulate Daddy.’ For the first time, the girl seemed to notice Virginsky. She looked at him with a glance that invited complicity.
‘Good grief! What has got into you?’ To Porfiry, Nastasya Petrovna added: ‘See what you have done? Yaroslav Nikolayevich will sort this out. We will do nothing until Yaroslav Nikolayevich arrives.’
‘I am afraid that will not be possible. At least not as far as I am concerned. I have my duties to attend to. I will have to ask you to wait outside, Nastasya Petrovna.’
‘Really!’
‘There are seats provided for your comfort.’
‘You expect me to rub shoulders with common criminals?’
‘Of course not.’ Porfiry turned to Zamyotov. ‘Alexander Grigorevich, would you kindly see to it that no criminals are seated next to this lady.’
‘But it is so difficult to tell these days,’ said Zamyotov airily. ‘Anyone may turn out to be a murderer.’ He fixed Virginsky with a pointed look as he said this.
‘Your sarcasm has not gone unnoticed,’ said Nastasya Petrovna to Porfiry. ‘Yaroslav Nikolayevich will be made aware of it when he arrives, rest assured. Come, Tatyana.’
‘If you please,’ put in Porfiry quickly, ‘Tatyana Ruslanovna will stay. I have a few questions I wish to put to her alone.’
‘Alone? But she is a child. I will not have you intimidating her.’
‘I am
not
a child. You’re worse than Daddy. He’s always treating me as a child and now look what’s happened.’
not
a child. You’re worse than Daddy. He’s always treating me as a child and now look what’s happened.’
Nastasya Petrovna’s eyes enlarged significantly at this outburst.
Tatyana Ruslanovna softened her tone to her mother. ‘It’s better we do what they want. Better for Daddy.’
‘But Yaroslav Nikolayevich -’
‘Yaroslav Nikolayevich is not coming. Yaroslav Nikolayevich thinks you are a tiresome old woman. He barely remembered you. And didn’t remember Daddy at all. He only agreed to help us to be rid of us. We were disturbing his breakfast and he wanted us out of his sight. So he sent a man to find out what had happened. It does not greatly inconvenience Yaroslav Nikolayevich to have his man running to the police headquarters. There were probably papers that he needed picking up. Didn’t he make us wait in a shabby drawing room while he finished his breakfast? And he did not even have the grace to say goodbye in person. He left that honour to his pimply servant, who as good as escorted us off the premises. Do you not know what it is to be insulted, Mother?’
‘How can you say such things? In front of them?’
‘It is the truth. Why will you never face up to the truth? You have deluded yourself about Yaroslav Nikolayevich. You have deluded yourself about Daddy. You delude yourself about everything. ’
Nastasya Petrovna put her hands over her ears and began screaming. ‘Cruel, ungrateful child! I will not listen to another word!’
‘Then wait outside, Mother. You need not concern yourself on my behalf. I’m not afraid of these men.’ Tatyana Ruslanovna’s gaze swooped imperiously over Porfiry and Virginsky. She angled her face upwards imperiously.
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