The Half Truth(79)

‘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.





Chapter 41


The trains were running to schedule as Tina arrived at Brighton station. She was in good time for her appointment. She double-checked her directions and headed down the hill towards the city centre. It was a beautiful morning; she could smell the salty sea air and feel the coastal breeze tickling her neck. Her heart tugged as she thought of the last time she was here and what had brought her here today.

She hadn’t known she would be coming here so soon after the events at St Paul’s, but two days on and John had explained he had to go up to London, something to do with the two Russians and their initial court hearings. It had only given her a few hours’ notice, but that had been all she needed to make arrangements.

The small private bank was innocuous from the outside. In fact, it looked more like an office building than a financial institution. Tina checked the plaque on the wall and pressed the small brass buzzer next to it. A tiny click alerted her to the automatic door lock being lifted. She pushed against the white, panelled door and stepped into a small reception area, where a member of staff greeted her, asking her to take a seat.

Within a few minutes, the lift doors on the other side of the reception area opened and a tall suited gentleman exited.

‘Hello, Mrs Bolotnikov,’ he said, extending a hand to her. ‘I’m Mr Thomas. Branch Manager.’