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groznyj_grad2007-12-06 11:11 pm
hajimenoippolit.livejournal.com) wrote in groznyj_grad2007-12-06 11:11 pm
Entry tags:
The messenger, cont.
"Another without marks," Rakitin murmured. "I'll bet you anything there's enough sedative in his blood to bring down a timberwolf."
He drew back to the active center of the room like a reluctant iron filing to an inconsistent magnet. Whatever it was that Liadov and Irinarhov needed to discuss, it looked like it would wait.
Ever since the other night...both other nights...Rakitin had done his best to keep out of the way. Nika hadn't talked much to him since, any more than necessary, and he'd followed the cue and backed off.
In fact, it was the young Black Ops man, Aryol, who had approached him, with an open smile and disarming gregariousness.
At the first second Polya had frozen, the alarm of reflex in his head blaring, Nika told him. He told him, and they laughed. But logic had manned the override. He knew perfectly well that that was ridiculous, and all the reasons.
"Either our killer is well trusted, or he's got a skill for sleight of hand."
Nothing they didn't know already, but it helped to follow the old tracks, to look for the divergences that stood out.
Such as....
"This is the first time it's directly involved Major Ocelot and Major Raikov," he hazarded. "Does that mean something?"
He drew back to the active center of the room like a reluctant iron filing to an inconsistent magnet. Whatever it was that Liadov and Irinarhov needed to discuss, it looked like it would wait.
Ever since the other night...both other nights...Rakitin had done his best to keep out of the way. Nika hadn't talked much to him since, any more than necessary, and he'd followed the cue and backed off.
In fact, it was the young Black Ops man, Aryol, who had approached him, with an open smile and disarming gregariousness.
At the first second Polya had frozen, the alarm of reflex in his head blaring, Nika told him. He told him, and they laughed. But logic had manned the override. He knew perfectly well that that was ridiculous, and all the reasons.
"Either our killer is well trusted, or he's got a skill for sleight of hand."
Nothing they didn't know already, but it helped to follow the old tracks, to look for the divergences that stood out.
Such as....
"This is the first time it's directly involved Major Ocelot and Major Raikov," he hazarded. "Does that mean something?"
no subject
He looked at Rakitin.
"You'll...be able to tell how he died."
It was not a question, but his gaze bored into the pathologist as if demanding an answer.
no subject
The look on Liadov's face was interesting, but nothing, Polya thought with wry regret, he hadn't seen before.
It was what he said that was of importance.
No marks.
It had been stirring in Polya's head as well, unwelcome and difficult to ignore as a slug on the doorstep.
"That's right," he said to Irinarhov, quiet confidence in both senses of the word.
There was no such thing as an effect without a cause.
"If someone killed him, I'll see how."
He left the possibility unspoken.
A lack of evidence could be evidence in itself.
no subject
"What are you angling at?" he demanded, then the implications of the words dawned on him.
"No," he said, emphatically, at once, eyes widening to punctuate the words. "No chance in hell. My men aren't fucking American cowboys. They don't use their weapons without a direct order- Isaev included."
no subject
His voice sounded somehow distant, disconnected from himself.
He lifted his chin, and straightened his stance. His hand went to the strap of his rifle, reflexively adjusting it.
"Everyone knows that, Major."
Kassian turned his gaze to Liadov then, and this time, met his eyes.
no subject
"Not even if they were provoked? Angry?"
Rakitin shook his head, as though trying to dislodge a weight.
"In any case, anything right now is conjecture. There are plenty of ways to kill a man that leave nothing on the skin and a clear internal trail. Not so many that don't. I doubt any killer is going to do us the favor of being that stupid."
no subject
A studious cooling, a chilling effect on emotional dread and impulse.
Imperceptible, because it was instinct by now.
Isaev very well could have done it. Nika knew that well enough. He was physically capable of snuffing out a life like a candle, and a drunk sub-par officer wouldn't have posed much of a challenge.
Ilarion might not have ever killed a man for kicks, but he certainly never hesitated in taking capital action on one at the slightest provocation.
Nika had no illusions about how the older Isaev would react to his younger brother being fingered for homicide. And what he would do.
Rakitin would figure out what the substance or cause was, if it was knowable. Nika had full confidence in that.
And if it was something less than ideal- if the finger of blame truly pointed at Andrei- then Nika would have no choice.
He would have to deal with it like a MENT.
He would have to begin a whitewash.
Liadov met Irinarhov's eyes.
"I've never seen an Isaev charged for a crime yet," he said. "That isn't a trend that's likely to change."
He paused.
"We've got to get that body back here, so Polya here can examine it."
Nika paused meaningfully.
"We won't question Lieutenant Isaev for at least 24 hours. We need to begin the autopsy as soon as possible, and I want to present."
That gave the Ocelots time to question and prime him. No surprises.
I just gave you a headstart.
Liadov's eyes spoke in lieu of his lips, eloquently veiled. He hoped Irinarhov was better at reading between the lines than he was at recognizing satire.
He turned to Ocelot, waving a calculatedly dismissive hand.
"Your explanation of the hazing is sufficient at this point. Until evidence suggests otherwise, we'll treat the killing as separate from the authorized off-duty disciplinary action. We can get details as the investigation progresses."
no subject
He dropped his eyes away.
Twenty four hours. It was more than enough.
Kassian knew that Liadov was thinking the same thing he was.
...Here's proof that this tape is for our ears only, Captain.
Liadov's words had been soft, but his eyes were hard as he had leaned across the interview table toward Kassian.
...If I found that Andrei had done this, I would bury it so fast your head would spin.
The words were like the cold comfort of a rifle barrel against his palm.
Kassian turned to Ocelot.
"Major. Permission to find Lieutenant Isaev and apprise him of the situation. I'm not on the bodyguard detail right now."
He'd actually had a rare morning free after practice, though as luck - or rather, Imanov's schedule - would have it, Isaev had patrol. Kassian had decided to spend his time fixing up his sniper tower to make it more conducive to long-term nesting.
Which was when he'd found Borishnakov.
Kassian checked his watch. Isaev should be getting back from patrol shortly, he thought.
no subject
"You don't have to stay," Rakitin told him in an undertone. "I'll give you a full report. I won't miss anything."
He couldn't be thrilled about this development, what with having had enough of a relation to Isaev to request that Polya conduct the interview on his own. However, he'd confessed that it had been a long time, and anyway it was the other brother he'd known better.
Very well, apparently.
Regardless, Nika wasn't the kind of man to let personal feelings get in the way of the investigation. He knew what he was doing.
no subject
"Permission granted," he hissed. "To do whatever you want, on your own time, Captain Irinarhov."
no subject
Why had he even bothered to couch his reassuring words in double-speak and entendre, if the righteous sniper was going to translate his true meaning directly after the fact?
Nika was chagrined, briefly, at being caught out in front of Rakitin, and having it broadcast that he was letting protocol slide on Isaev's behalf.
Those were the kind of things you didn't draw attention to.
If he was wise, thought Liadov, at this point he would be forced to redact his goodwill, upon having it called to general attention that the Captain, by his own declaration, was going straight to the most obvious possible suspect and tip him off.
If he condoned that outright statement now, he blatantly agreed to abet the compromising of an investigation, which was a seriously blatnoy proposition.
Tacitly that had been Nika's intent all along, but corruption was only corruption when it was underhanded.
When it was public it was unethical hypocrisy.
Liadov sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
He couldn't look at Rakitin.
"The body," he said. "If you don't mind, I'd like to observe. There are some marks, animal spots painted on the skin in blood. I want to see what you come up with when you run the samples, Polya."
no subject
He felt unsettled. Unease curled around him like the coils of a snake, slowly constricting his chest. He tried to shrug it off, tried to avert his mind away from the implications of everything he'd just heard.
Kassian didn't think it was working.
Without even a nod, he left the lab, but paused as he stepped into the anteroom where Kolyin stood watch.
Kolyin looked at him. Cautiously, Kassian thought. Probably wondering what he knew, or what else had transpired. Kassian didn't hold it against him, that Kolyin hadn't said anything earlier when they'd brought in Borishnakov's uniform pieces. It hadn't exactly been the time and place.
He felt like he should say something, but he didn't know what to say. Kassian hesitated for a few moments, then said, "I'll be all right."
To his surprise, Kolyin visibly relaxed, and then nodded.
What were words, he thought, though right then, he would have liked someone to tell him it was going to be all right, too.
Kassian nodded back, and then slipped outside. The chill air was crisp and refreshing, but even so, he had the feeling that things would get worse before they would get better.
no subject
That way, he would know immediately when the cause of death was discovered. Polya was certain it would be. A markless corpse was a distinctive calling card. If Isaev were a murderer, could he be that stupid?
Or that arrogant?
A charm that called people to him and ensured they would protect him...
No. That was ridiculous.
It was only natural that both, especially his own lover, would never think he could have really done it.
"Blood..." Rakitin mused. "Not the victim's?"
He winced.
"Let me guess. An ocelot's spots."
no subject
"Yes...that's it exactly. I'm impressed at your discernment."
He paused, fussing with the buckle on his generously cut grey coat sleeve, then letting it rest.
"Do you have a natural history book available? I'm sure there's one in the East Wing library, if not. I'm no zoologist, but that spot and stripe pattern is distinctive. Not a cheetah, not a leopard."
Nika pursed his lips, briefly.
"That it would be an ocelot...seems only reasonable."
If anything about this could be called reasonable. Liadov was beginning to feel like a Hallucinogenic Toreador in a surreal arena where the bull was a devil he knew.