The Half Truth (20 page)

‘I wish things had been different.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘But … but, they are not. I have Rozalina and Nikolay. As much as I regret what happened, how can I regret what I have now? I need you to help me, Tina. Please, say you can.’

Tina looked away at Dimitri and then back again at Sasha. How could she refuse to help his son? Not only Sasha’s son, but the half-brother of her own son.

‘What do you want me to do?’

John let out a sigh of relief as he exited yet another heavy spot of traffic on Queen Victoria Street. A blue light for the car would have saved him a good ten minutes, but the undercover BMW had no such luxury. A black cab tooted him as he cut right into Cannon Street. John accelerated through onto St Paul’s Churchyard and, throwing the wheel right, pulled up onto the apron of the small opening that was only accessible on state occasions. Today, as most days, a heavy linked chain spanned the entrance, the pedestrians having to jump back out of the way of the vehicle.

John leaped out of his car and strode onto the grey block-paved concourse, scanning the area, looking for either Tina or Sasha. A quick look round the statue of Queen Anne that stood outside the west entrance proved pointless, so John headed towards the steps, closing in on the twelve great pillars of Portland stone that marked the entrance to the cathedral.

He was only at the top of the first flight of steps when, straight in front of him, exiting the main doors, came Tina, Dimitri and Sasha.

The Bolotnikovs spotted him at the same time. They stopped in their tracks, too, their eyes fixed on John. Sasha leaned into Tina and spoke to her. She nodded and, staying where she was, watched Sasha make his way down the top flight of steps to John.

‘I knew you would come. I am sorry about the bang to your head,’ he said standing in front of John.

‘Apology accepted. Shame I can’t return the favour.’

‘I wanted to say goodbye to my son.’

John nodded and looked up towards Tina. She was holding Dimitri’s hand, gazing down at them both. She looked tired and dejected, yet strong and beautiful all at the same time. All he wanted to do was to take her home, wrap her in his arms and look after her, to take her away from all this grief and heartbreak. He also knew it was impossible, for he was just as much a cause of her distress as anyone else was. If not more.

The sound of a motorbike’s engine revving somewhere behind him brought John back from his thoughts. Something wasn’t right.

‘John.’ Sasha’s voice was urgent, his face one of alarm as he looked beyond John’s shoulder. John looked round. The motorbike clearly wasn’t just passing along in the traffic. It was here on the concourse. A rider and a pillion. The passenger was getting off the bike, his crash helmet still on, the visor down. John could tell from the cupped hand, held at the passenger’s side, that he was concealing something. John had momentarily allowed himself to be distracted and had missed the warning signal by a second. And it was in that second that their advantage had been dented.

Sasha must have realised too. ‘Look after Tina and Dimitri. You owe me.’ With that he was half-running, half-walking away to the north side of the cathedral.

‘Sasha!’ John shouted, but his voice was lost amongst the tourists. He looked back at the advancing motorcyclist, then up at Tina and Dimitri. His gut contorted at the sight that met his eyes.

Tina was staring at him intently, fear transmitting from her eyes. Her bottom lip trembled and she was visibly shaking as her hand held tightly onto Dimitri’s. Behind her stood another leather-clad motorcyclist. This time an open-faced crash helmet, but with a bandana pulled up over his nose, covering all but his eyes. His hand was at Dimitri’s neck, John couldn’t be sure, but he thought a knife lay behind the leather gloved fingers.

John’s blood ran ice-cold. He couldn’t risk chasing Sasha and there was no way he could attempt to get anywhere near the guy to try and disarm him. It was too risky.

Where the fuck was Martin?

The pillion passenger was now at John’s side.

‘You chose well,’ he said in a heavy Russian accent. ‘You will do well to remain where you are for a little longer.’

John had no choice. He toyed with the idea of reaching for his gun, but dismissed it almost instantly. He couldn’t fire it through the crowds of people. He wouldn’t be able to fire it at the man standing behind Dimitri, not with the split-second advantage he would have to aim and be sure of hitting his target and no one else. No, the knife would be in Dimitri before he could even take aim. He looked back at the motorcyclist, who had now turned the bike to face the way he had come, the engine silent.

John’s only hope was Martin. The reality was he had no hope, not unless Martin suddenly materialised out of nowhere at that exact moment. He looked up at Tina, held her gaze and although he knew she couldn’t hear him, he said the words out loud to reassure her.

‘Stay calm. You’re doing great.’

It felt like he had been standing there for an eternity, when in fact he knew it was only a matter of minutes. The starting of the motorbike engine behind him caught his attention. The pillion passenger jumped on the back and the bike sped off across the paved courtyard and into the London traffic, heading towards New Bridge Street.

John span round and looked up at Tina. She was crouched down, cuddling Dimitri in her arms. No sign of the other motorcyclist. John took the steps two at a time, skidding to a halt in front of Tina and her son.

‘You okay? Promise? Just stay here. Don’t move. Martin will be along soon.’

John raced down and across the steps of the cathedral and round the north side where Sasha had gone. He ran through the gates and into St Paul’s churchyard itself.

There, sitting on the bench was Sasha. John slowed to catch his breath. Relief that he had found Sasha, though, was quickly replaced by an unnerving sensation that something wasn’t right. Sasha didn’t move.

John crouched down in front of Sasha. The Russian raised his eyes but not his head. His hand was round the handle of a blade, which protruded from his chest. He went to speak but it was a gurgle of air bubbling in blood. John could hear a sucking noise coming from the wound; a sure sign that the blade had punctured the lung.

John grabbed his mobile and called for an ambulance.

‘Lean back against the bench, Sasha,’ said John, leaving his phone on the bench, the operator still on the end of the line. John ripped off his jacket and padded it around the blade. He knew any attempt to remove it could prove fatal, if it wasn’t already.

A couple of passing pedestrians had stopped. One woman screamed. A man came over to offer his help. Suddenly, in a matter of seconds, a crowd had gathered around them.

Despite John’s instructions to stay put, Tina found herself running after him, Dimitri running along by her side, hand in hand.

She had felt frightened and vulnerable up on the steps – she needed to be with John. She needed to know that Sasha was safe.

As she clattered across the flagstone and into St Paul’s churchyard, she saw a crowd gathered around one of the benches. Her heart flipped and her legs suddenly felt heavy. Through a gap she could see John leaning over someone. She knew it was Sasha.

Pushing through, the sight that confronted her made her gasp. She pulled Dimitri to her, trying to shield his eyes. John was holding what looked like his jacket to Sasha’s chest, his fingers coated red with blood. Sasha looked pale, colour drained from his face.

‘Oh, my God!’ she gasped. She dropped to the bench beside Sasha, putting her arm around his shoulders. ‘Do something, John, please.’

She was aware of another woman leading Dimitri to one side. She could hear the woman chatting to her son, obviously distracting him and for that Tina was grateful.

‘The ambulance will be here any minute,’ said John.

Tina looked at Sasha, his lips were beginning to take on a blue tint, his breathing was more like a gurgle and the blood was already soaking through the makeshift dressing John’s jacket had provided. Sasha’s eyes rolled, his head flopped forwards.

‘Sasha! Sasha! Open your eyes!’ Tina tapped his face with her fingers. It seemed to have the desired effect. Sasha’s head came up and he tried to focus his eyes on Tina.

‘Look … after … boys,’ rasped Sasha.

‘Don’t try to speak,’ said John.

‘Promise … me,’ said Sasha.

Tina nodded. Her eyes filled with tears once more. ‘I promise, Sasha. I promise I will. Both of them. Dimitri and Nikolay.’

Sasha moved his hand to his jacket pocket. Even such a small action seemed exhausting for him. Strength, like blood, was seeping from him.

Tina looked down. His finger pointed to his pocket. Tina delved into the pocket, pulling out a stuffed toy; Billy the Bear. The toy that had gone missing from Dimitri’s room, the toy Sasha had bought for his unborn child; Sasha’s only connection to the son he was never able to know.

A tear seeped from the corner of Sasha’s eye. Tina began to cry too. Not big dramatic sobs, but gentle heart-breaking tears. They had said they loved one another back in the cathedral, but both knew that was in another time and place. Not in a cold London church yard with blood blooming red across a white shirt, colour draining from their faces, one as death beckoned and the other as heartbreak approached for a second time. She was losing Sasha all over again, this time there would be no return.

The ride back to Sussex in John’s BMW was heavy with silence. Tina was sitting in the back with Dimitri as John drove them. Neither said anything. Tina wasn’t sure she could. She couldn’t quite believe what had happened. She wasn’t supposed to have her son’s life threatened and to see her husband die from a knife wound. Things like this didn’t happen to normal, everyday people like her.

Thankfully, Dimitri didn’t seem to be badly affected by it. He had asked if the man they had met was going to be okay and Tina had to gently explain that the doctors hadn’t been able to help him and that he had gone to heaven. Dimitri had nodded and then switched subjects, asking if Tina could read his pirate story as it was his favourite bedtime book. She had gladly obliged, hoping it would distract her, if only for a few minutes.

Tina had stayed with Dimitri until he had drifted off to sleep. She stroked his head, moving small strands of hair from his eyes. Tonight he looked even more like his father.

His father? She couldn’t really call Sasha his father. The hour at St Paul’s Cathedral today didn’t qualify Sasha to fulfil that definition. In fact, John had spent more time with Dimitri doing fatherly things. John was so natural with Dimitri, there seemed a genuine bond between boy and man, but she couldn’t help wonder how much of that was real and how much was for his job. The notion that John had betrayed her son, an innocent child, made her stomach clench.

Having now put Dimitri to bed, Tina came downstairs. John was sitting in the living room, Rascal was stretched out on the sofa next to him, thoroughly enjoying the belly-rub John was administering.

‘He’s gone straight to sleep,’ said Tina. She sat down in the armchair.

‘That’s good,’ said John. He stopped stroking Rascal and sat forward on the sofa. ‘How are you?’

‘Honest answer? I don’t really know.’ Tina rubbed her face with both hands. ‘I feel I should be some sort of physical and emotional wreck, but I don’t actually feel anything. I’m not sure that’s a good way to be.’

‘You’re probably in a bit of shock.’

‘What was your real reason for getting involved with me?’ Tina watched John’s reaction. Clearly taken aback and caught off-guard, he did well to compose himself almost immediately.

‘When I first came here, it was with the sole purpose of finding out what you knew.’

‘Thank you for being honest.’ His words, though soft and gentle, may just as well have been a blade slicing through her skin. An image of Sasha slumped in St Paul’s skittered before her. She shook her head to dispel the thought.

‘But …’ John looked at her. ‘But, within a short space of time, another reason was jostling for my attention. You, yourself. I came here purely to get information, but I became involved not so much because I wanted to, but because I couldn’t help it.’

If his previous answer had caused a wound, then this answer provided the bandage. But still the injury was painful.

‘You were blackmailing Sasha. You threatened to tell me about him. You threatened to tell the Porboski gang about him. You caused all this. You brought all this on my family. Because of you, Dimitri grew up without a father. I thought I was a widow. You were responsible.’

‘You’re wrong, Tina. Very wrong.’ John’s words were said with force. She looked at him, waiting for him to continue. ‘Sasha is responsible for part of this.’

‘You forced him into an untenable position. He had no choice but to comply.’

‘I never forced him to launder that money. I never forced him to agree to be a look out for the robbery. I never …’

‘Carry on, you never what?’ Tina jumped to her feet. ‘Tell what you never did. What happened that night?’

‘Just leave it.’

‘No, I won’t leave it. Why can’t you tell me the truth? Why don’t you practise what you preach for once?’ The anger swelled inside her. She was on the verge of losing control. Rascal must have sensed this too as he sprung to his feet with an angry meow, jumped to the floor and trotted out of the room.

‘Tina, please. Sit down. I don’t want to argue.’ John remained seated.

Tina walked over to the window, trying to regain control. The sun-catcher of the boat hung from the sash window. It looked dull, without any light streaming in from behind in. She ran her finger around the edge and traced over the sparkly gems glued onto the blue sea glass. A present from Sasha on their honeymoon in the Lake District.

She felt the anger subside and a deep sadness take over.

‘There are certain things I can’t tell you. It would compromise my position.’

‘That sounds like an excuse to me.’ She turned to look at him once more. ‘I know there’s something you’re not telling me. Is it to do with your nightmares?’ There, she had said it – a question that had burned within her. She studied his face for a reaction. He dropped his eyes before looking back at her.

‘I saw one of my best friends shot. I tried to stem the blood flow, but it was impossible. I had been shot too. My phone stamped on. I couldn’t even call for an ambulance. I had to leave him while I ran to get help. I had to make a split decision. I knew if I released the pressure to his wound, he would just bleed out. I also knew that staying, applying what pressure I could with my one good hand, was only a short-term solution.’

Tina dropped to her knees in front of John, resting her hands on his. ‘You were in a Catch Twenty-Two position. You couldn’t win. It wasn’t your fault.’

John took his hands away and rubbed his eyes. ‘It haunts me. It’s always there, like some demon on my shoulder.’

‘Is there anything else?’

‘What did Sasha want to meet you for?’ The change in direction threw her. John was back to his controlled business-like self. She stood up, returning to her position by the window.

‘To say goodbye … and to see Dimitri.’ She comforted herself with the thought that this was the truth, if only part of it.

‘And?’

‘And nothing.’ Rascal returned to the room and rubbed his arched back against her leg. She bent down and scooped the cat up. ‘Hello, boy.’ She nuzzled her face into his fur. ‘Do you want feeding? Come on, then.’

Avoiding any form of eye contact with John, Tina left the room for the kitchen. She wasn’t surprised when John followed.

‘Did Sasha mention Pavel at all?’ said John leaning against the doorframe.

‘No.’ Tina kept her back to him. It was easier to lie if she didn’t look at him. She rummaged around in the cupboard seeking out a tin of cat food.

‘What about the money?’

Tina felt her body stiffen. She hoped it had escaped John’s notice. ‘I don’t know anything about that.’ She took a tin from the shelf and peeled back the lid.

‘I thought he might ask you to get it for him, seeing as that’s what he was here for. I figured if he could get it himself he would have done. For whatever reasons, he needed you to help him.’

Tina forked the meaty jelly into the cat bowl. Her hand was shaking as she placed the bowl onto the floor. She watched Rascal sniff at the offering before crouching down to eat. She had to word her next sentence carefully. ‘I didn’t think the police would still be bothered about it.’

‘It’s all part of the case and, besides, it does actually belong to someone. If we ignored it, we wouldn’t be doing our job properly.’

Tina rinsed the fork under the tap. ‘What about if someone found it?’

‘If they didn’t hand it in, then they would be in trouble for potential money-laundering, handling stolen money.’ John pushed himself off the doorframe and walked over to the breakfast bar. He rested his forearms on the shiny, black surface. ‘Aiding and abetting, even.’

Tina placed the fork in the dishwasher and faced him across the worktop. ‘So you can’t just forget about it?’

‘Turn a blind eye, you mean?’ He paused and when he spoke again, his voice was soft. ‘No, I can’t.’

‘I understand.’ She studied John’s face. He didn’t believe her, she was sure. How she hated lying to him. She was painfully aware that she was doing exactly what she had hated John doing to her. But she had promised Sasha she would help Nikolay. Sasha had given his life trying to help his son. She couldn’t let either of them down.

‘What happens to Sasha’s body now?’ she asked.

‘I wanted to speak to you about that. Repatriation could prove difficult as, legally, a valid passport is needed to send the body home. Sasha, of course, hadn’t come into the country under his own name. He came in on a false passport.’

‘What’s the alternative?’ she asked.

‘He could be cremated here in the UK and the casket sent out to Russia. Technically, you are next of kin, it’s up to you,’ said John. ‘You’ve got a few days to decide while we gather the coroner’s report and death certificate.’

‘Okay, thank you. What do you think has happened to Pavel?’ she asked.

‘We don’t know. We’ve had a report that he’s already left the country,’ said John. ‘We’re waiting for confirmation.’

‘Will I be safe?’

‘We’ve put the word out that we’ve got the money. The Russians won’t bother with you any more. The money was the draw for everyone, Sasha, Pavel and the Russians. If they all think it’s out of play, there’s no reason for them to come for you. I’ll hang around for a few more days, just to make sure.’

Tina nodded. She wanted to ask what would happen next between them, but she had something to do before then. She had unfinished business. A promise to fulfil.