The Relic (16 page)

Viktor stepped away from the bed. He laid a hand upon her arm. It gripped so tightly it hurt.

‘I meant what I said. Give him a lethal injection. That is an order. I'll wait in your office.'

He didn't look back. He walked out of the room and closed the door. He went up in the lift and sat down in Irina's pleasant office. He wiped sweat from his forehead. Now he would sleep as peacefully as his mother and brother in their unmarked grave in the woods. The time passed. He was calm. He waited. At last the door opened and Irina came in. She was very pale. He stood up.

‘Is he dead?'

‘Yes. Why did you make me do that? I've never killed a patient.'

He dismissed the protest. ‘Don't be a hypocrite. You destroy their minds. This is cleaner.'

She sat down. She gripped her hands together.

‘I feel very shocked,' she said. ‘I've killed in cold blood. You must excuse me.'

‘You'll get over it,' Viktor said. ‘You did your duty, Irina. I gave the order. You obeyed it. That's all. How did you explain it?'

‘Cardiac failure. I overdosed him and then rang for emergency resuscitation. I knew it couldn't work. They went on and on trying. I'll have to call his wife,' she said. ‘I have to make a full report. There'll be an inquest.'

‘But they won't find anything?'

‘Nothing. Not a trace. He had a heart attack. I gave him digitalis. His heart couldn't stand the shock.'

He could see she was recovering her composure.

He said, ‘You were serving your country. Times are dangerous for us all. One life is nothing compared to the survival of our system. He'd lived fifty years too long. Remember that. I'm staying at the Hôtel d'Angleterre. Get through to Müller and tell him to contact me there. I'll be in Geneva for only two days. There's a lot of work to be done. If the cross still exists, we have to find it.'

‘It was so kind of you to come with me, Peter.' Eloise Brückner's eyes filled with tears. Müller shook his head.

‘My dear,' he said. ‘It's the least I could do. It's been so sudden, such a terrible shock!'

The children were with her. They were white-faced and dumb.

‘I couldn't have managed without you,' she insisted. ‘All those dreadful arrangements to make and that inquest. Oh, I'll be so glad to get home!'

Müller knew that her grief was quite genuine. It had been a happy marriage, in spite of the difference in their ages. It had shocked him, too, when he heard of Adolph Brückner's sudden death. Irina had been brisk when she called with the news and told him to telephone Rakovsky at his hotel.

She hadn't wanted to discuss what had happened. A heart attack, she said, and rang off before he could ask questions. It was unlike her to miss a heart condition in a special patient. They weren't any use to Moscow dead.

He was sorry for Eloise, but a rich and attractive widow of forty wouldn't grieve alone for long. She wiped her eyes with a lace handkerchief and he caught the drift of her exotic scent. He had toyed with the fantasy of sleeping with her; the rich smell aroused him. He had never dared do more than imagine it while Brückner was alive. Now—why not? A shoulder to cry on. He put his arm around her. She didn't resist.

‘Some of Adolph's cousins are coming for the funeral,' she said. ‘I don't know them. I think they're only coming in case there's any money for them.'

Müller said gently, ‘Adolph left everything to you and the children. He told me. Don't worry about them. Susan and I will be there to support you.'

‘I know,' she murmured. ‘I'm so grateful to you. We're not going to be late, are we? I couldn't bear it if we missed the flight.'

She had begun to panic about things like tickets and timetables. For twenty years all these details had been arranged for her. It was a symptom of widowhood.

‘Plenty of time,' he reassured her. ‘Just relax, my dear. Let me take care of you and the children.'

Her luggage was packed. They waited in her suite at the Richemond for the hire car to take them to the airport. When reception rang through Müller answered it. It was not the car. There was a lady asking to see Madame Brückner. He looked over to Eloise.

‘Someone's downstairs. You're not expecting anyone?'

‘No, no. I don't want to see anyone.'

The receptionist sounded apologetic. The lady was very insistent. Could she speak to Madame Brückner? Just for a few minutes? It was very important.

Müller said, ‘I'm afraid not, just get rid of her. Oh it has. Very well. We'll come down.' He hung up. ‘The car's here. They're coming up for the luggage.'

They went down in the lift and crossed the big reception hall. A woman moved quickly and caught up with Eloise. Eloise stopped.

The woman said, ‘Madame Brückner? Please excuse me. I saw you at the clinic. I've got to talk to you. It's about your husband. I was the sister on his corridor.'

They didn't catch the flight.

She was in her mid-forties, neatly dressed with a quiet air of authority. She spoke calmly enough. She had insisted on seeing Eloise Brückner alone. Müller had smelled trouble the moment she said who she was. He'd tried to hurry Eloise away, to sidetrack the woman standing in their path. But he was overruled. Eloise Brückner wasn't going without hearing what the sister who had nursed her husband had to say. They all turned back and went up to the suite.

‘My name is Beatrice Duval. Your husband was admitted to my corridor. Let me say first, I've been nursing psychiatric patients for more than twenty years and I know what I'm talking about. I've never experienced a case like this.'

‘Why? What do you mean?' Eloise stared at her.

‘The way Doctor Volkov treated him was nothing less than sadistic. I'm sorry, this isn't going to be easy for you, but I've got to say it. It was deliberate cruelty. And it's been on my conscience ever since.'

‘Cruelty? How? I don't believe you!'

‘I've nothing to gain,' Beatrice Duval said. ‘I expect I'll lose my job for telling you. But it's preyed on my mind. The doctor wouldn't allow sedatives, or painkillers when he had those dreadful headaches. She put him through the most intensive analysis with nothing to help him afterwards. ‘It's a wonder he didn't go mad. He suffered such terrible symptoms he tried to kill himself. He had to be tied down. In the end I got another doctor to sedate the poor man. She was off duty and I didn't call her. She had me moved to another patient after that.'

‘My God,' Eloise said. ‘My God, it's like a nightmare.'

‘It was a nightmare for
him
,' the sister said. ‘I don't know why she did it, Madame Brückner. If he hadn't died of that heart attack, he'd have been a mental wreck.'

‘You're sure? You're sure this is true?' Eloise was standing now. The scented handkerchief that had roused Müller's lust was tearing in her hands.

‘As God's my witness. I asked the nurse on duty about the day he died. She said the doctor and another man, a visitor, were in his room. She told me she heard him scream. A few minutes later
she
came rushing out saying he'd collapsed. I say she brought on that heart attack!'

Eloise said at last, ‘I'm going back home and I'll contact my lawyers. They'll want to see you and take a statement. All expenses will be paid, you won't be out of pocket. You will come, won't you? You won't change your mind?'

‘I won't. I wouldn't have come if I wasn't prepared to tell the truth. What will you do?'

‘If we prove mistreatment, they'll bring criminal charges. I've got the best lawyers in Germany. I'm very, very grateful to you. You're still working there?'

‘Yes. I've been there since it opened. It's a very good place. It was just that one case. I hadn't worked with her before.'

‘Give me your private address and telephone number,' Eloise said. ‘Don't talk about it to anyone else. Wait till you hear from me. It'll be very soon.' She went to the door of the suite. Her eyes filled up. ‘Thank God you told me.' she said. ‘I won't let her get away with this, I promise you. My poor darling Adolph.'

She turned away. When the door closed after her visitor she broke down in tears.

‘I wouldn't believe a word of it!' Müller insisted. ‘The woman's got a grudge. She's probably trying to get money out of you.'

‘No,' Eloise countered. ‘She said herself she could lose her job. I believe her, Peter. I don't want to, but I do. Something dreadful happened to Adolph and I'm going to find out what it was!'

‘It's nonsense,' he said. ‘Doctor Volkova is a famous psychiatrist. That nurse didn't understand what she was doing. He was getting better. You were going to take him home very soon! For God's sake, Eloise be careful. If you defame the clinic or the doctor you could be sued for a fortune!'

She looked up at him. ‘You needn't worry because you recommended her, Peter,' she said. ‘I'm not blaming you. I know you were trying to help.'

He hadn't expected that. He backtracked. ‘My dear! I'm not thinking of myself. I'm thinking of you.'

‘I'm thinking of my husband,' she said slowly. ‘I'm going to follow it up. I can't forget what she said. He tried to kill himself. He was tied down. If that's medical treatment, it ought to be stopped! I'm not frightened of anything that doctor or her clinic can do to me. If she hurt Adolph she'll face criminal charges. And who was the visitor she took in there the day he died? She told me
no one
was allowed to see him. I want answers. I want to know why my husband was heard screaming.'

My Christ, Müller said to himself. If I go on defending Irina, I'm going to lose out. He moved closer to Eloise Brückner.

He said seriously, ‘You're right. I was only trying to spare you. Of course, this must be investigated. I'll come to the lawyers with you, if you like. Adolph was my friend, and I do feel responsible. I did recommend the clinic. I'm with you every step of the way.'

‘Thank you,' she said. ‘Thank you, Peter. Now for God's sake let's go to the airport and get on the next flight home.' She looked round her at the luxurious suite and shuddered. ‘I can't wait to get away from this awful place.'

The flight to Munich took just two hours. They ran into bad weather and the turbulence upset the youngest Brückner child. She was frightened and she was sick. Müller made soothing noises while Eloise moved seats to comfort her and then he settled back to plan what he must do. By the time they had risen above the storm, there was a slight smile on his lips, as if he were thinking pleasant thoughts. And they were pleasant. Now it was his turn. Irina had put a black mark against him with Rakovsky. Fortunately, Viktor valued him and they had a long association before he ever worked with Irina. Otherwise he might have been in serious trouble.

He wasn't going to warn Irina. He was going to report direct to Rakovsky in Moscow. She was about to be investigated and charged with malpractice towards a patient. Under Swiss law she would get a long prison sentence. She'd exceeded her brief with Adolph Brückner and the operation through the clinic would have to be closed down. That, he decided, would put an end to Irina's career, if not to Irina.

He was very solicitous to the Brückner family when they landed, paying particular attention to the sickly daughter clinging to her mother's arm. He would end up in bed with Eloise; he was hot with excitement at the thought of it. And he would somehow persuade her to part with the Fabergé desk set.

Rakovsky wanted that.
Steal it if necessary. But get it. It belongs in Russia
. No Irina Volkova to goad him with her arrogance and her interference. An affair with this lovely woman who was so rich and inviting, and Viktor's brief to him, track down the cross. Use any means, spend whatever is necessary. Find it if it exists, or prove it if it doesn't. I'll make sure your reward will be in proportion to the value of your information. It was a glittering prospect and gave him the courage to brush his hand against Eloise's breast as he kissed her goodbye.

‘We'll go to the lawyers,' he said. ‘We'll see it through together. Now sleep well, my dear. I'll call you in the morning.'

Eloise's daughter frowned. When he'd gone she said, ‘Mummy, I don't like that man.'

‘Now, darling, you mustn't say that. He's been so kind.'

Viktor Rakovsky was in conference when the message came. He couldn't leave, duty came first. His self-discipline had been forged and tempered by years of training. He glanced briefly at the written note, put it aside and went on with the meeting. His concentration was equal to his self-control. The last item on the agenda was the renewed activities of anti-Soviet groups in Europe and the North American continent.

Not just the normal fundraising and propaganda through the media. After the uproar created by Nicholas Tolstoy over the Cossack repatriations, the fringe groups had been taken very seriously. Their leaders covered a wide spectrum. Free Ukrainians, Catholics, Orthodox Christians, Liberal Socialists, even the anomaly of a tiny White Russian remnant hoping for the restoration of the monarchy. They were moving, these disparate community leaders; visas and travel arrangements were reported and the rendezvous was in Europe. The KGB had penetrated all these organizations over the years, but the purpose and the location of this summit was kept secret.

In the days of Andropov, the solution would have been easy. Selected targets would have been eliminated. The rest would have understood the warning, and the plot, whatever its form, would have fizzled out, as so many had done over the years. But not now. Now the KGB itself was subject to scrutiny, to accountability.

The murder of anti-Soviet activists abroad would stir up fierce controversy at home. The old powers and the impenetrable secrecy that protected them had been breeched by the new liberties. It was ironic to Victor and the colleagues sitting round the table that morning that Gorbachev had been the KGB choice as leader.