A Negotiable Instrument

Chapter Three - Friday

'How do the Kodaks look, Borya? Do they do justice to the scene?' Tursunov unwound his scarf and fought his way out of his overcoat.

'Morning, sir. I'm not surprised the lad was pale. The folder is on your desk. And there's been a development,' Dolmatov added.

'Don't tell me. Rodya has fallen off that ridiculous contraption? If he wanted to join the circus he only had to ask. I would have bought him the big shoes.’

'He's put his bicycle away for the winter.'

'Sensible lad. Where is he then? And what is this development?' Tursunov had slumped into his chair and was taking a cursory glance at the Kodaks.

'I've sent him over to the Ministry of Finance.'

'Why would you do that?'

'It looks like the red-backs stuffed in the Ivan's mouth are forgeries.'

'So you sent Rodya to find out? Knowing the good men at the Ministry of Finance we can expect to see him at some point in the new year with the news that the red-backs may, or indeed may not, be forgeries, and that they couldn't possibly comment on who might, or indeed might not, have printed them. A useful lesson for him to learn.' Tursunov closed the folder, pushed it away, and began to rock back and forth in his chair.

Dolmatov shuffled some paperwork around on his desk. His inspector had become increasingly moody since his return from his temporary assignment and he knew it was best, whenever possible, to ignore his sarcasm.

'Any other developments? What about the Ivan's identity?' Tursunov asked.

'Nothing yet. I'm going through the missing persons reports.'

'Not much chance of finding him there.'

'No.'

'Have reports gone out to all the station houses?'

'Yes.'

'Has anyone spoken to the stallholders at the meat market?'

'Not yet.'

'Has anyone spoken to the night watchman?'

'Not yet.'

'Don't you think that somebody should?'

'Yes. I thought you would want to.'

'You did, did you?'

'Yes.'

'I don't suppose there has been any luck finding the murder weapon?'

'No, not in a market full of butcher's knives.'

'Yes, very funny, Borya. Maybe you're the one who should think about joining the circus.' Tursunov had stopped rocking.

'They wouldn't want me.'

'Don't be so hard on yourself. Who noticed the red-backs were forgeries?' Tursunov started rocking again.

'Yemelin.'

'He did, did he? The lad may have hidden talents. Carry on with your missing persons reports. I'm going to go back to the market to talk to the night watchman and some of the stallholders. Let me know if there are any further developments.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Rodya's a good lad,' Tursunov said after a long silence. He stopped rocking and stood up. 'Too eager and very naïve, but a good lad.'

That reminded Dolmatov of someone he had once thought of as a friend.

* * *

'I don't care who you are! You could be the Chief Shit-Shoveller to the Tsar for all I care!' The thought made Menshov giggle.