Zugzwang by Ronan Bennett

patient’s father will obviously be discussed in that process.’
    He smiled but his eyes were hard. ‘
Deep
investigation? What does that mean?’
    â€˜When the body is sick, the physician will make a thorough physical examination.’
    â€˜And you do the same, mentally speaking?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    Few of us like the idea of being discussed as systematically as my formulation suggested to Zinnurov. ‘How does she speak of me?’ he asked slowly, doing his best not to appear too interested.
    He seemed for a moment quite helpless so that even had I not been bound by a professional code I would have struggled to answer.
    â€˜Your expression gives everything away, Spethmann,’ he said. He straightened in the chair and cleared his throat, getting himself back under control. ‘Give me the name of this police inspector again,’ he said, taking a pen and notebook from his pocket.
    â€˜Lychev,’ I said.
    Zinnurov scribbled the name in his notebook. ‘And he is investigating the murders of Gulko and …?’
    â€˜Yastrebov.’
    â€˜Who is Yastrebov?’
    â€˜Lychev claimed to know nothing about him other than his name.’
    â€˜And your daughter is Catherine, yes?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    Zinnurov closed the notebook and screwed the top back on the pen. He got up. ‘I shall call Maklakov first thing in the morning,’ he said. ‘I can’t promise anything but when I explain things I’m sure the minister will understand.’
    â€˜Thank you,’ I said.
    We were in the vestibule and the servants were helping me on with my galoshes and overcoat when a tall, thin old manin the dress uniform of the Household Cavalry entered. With his fine white hair and dull blue eyes he looked grandfatherly and wise, an impression not in the least contradicted by the pale scar that ran from eye to jawbone on the left side of his face, or by the fact that he was head of the secret police. I recognised him at once, for Colonel Maximilian Gan, the famous director of the Okhrana, was as well known to Petersburgers as the tsar himself. The atmosphere chilled perceptibly, as if the door through which Gan had entered could not now shut out the biting cold. The servants, all meekness and uncertainty, kept their heads lowered and their eyes down. Gan nodded tersely to Zinnurov before proceeding directly to the smoking room.
    Zinnurov gave me a tight smile. ‘I would be grateful, Spethmann, if you would convey to Anna my deepest desire to see her again. Tell her I will see her wherever she wants, under whatever conditions she sees fit to impose.’
    A small, bald man in a frock coat approached, a barely subdued urgency about his manner. He whispered in Zinnurov’s ear. The Mountain’s features darkened. He dismissed the man, turned to me and said, ‘The terrorists have struck again. Two dynamite bombs. One they threw into the restaurant at the Angleterre, the other into Irinovka Station.’
    â€˜I heard an explosion as I arrived,’ I said, ‘but I had no idea. Are there many hurt?’
    â€˜Four dead, apparently. All at the Angleterre. We live in dangerous times, Spethmann.’
    As we shook hands, he fixed me with a look and said, ‘I sense that a word from you would carry great weight with Anna. I know you will not let me down.’
    He intended me to understand in no uncertain terms that we had made a deal: he would talk to the minister of the interior on my behalf as long as I talked to Anna on his.
    â€˜I will do what I can,’ I said.
    A driver from the club brought me home. The small, dark-blue car followed us all the way. This time I recognised the passenger; Lychev looked pinched and cold. I almost felt sorry for him.

Seven
    Catherine kissed me on the forehead and sat down at the table. Lidiya asked what she would like to eat and, as usual, Catherine said she was not hungry. Tea would be sufficient. Lidiya