“Zhikarev had obviously noticed it, too, but he disclaimed any knowledge of the man who had done it. I believe him.”
“You believe him?”
“Yes. The furs come from the forest and are obviously taken and treated by several different trappers. There is no way he could know them all, and this one was new.”
“You know that?”
“He swears it and I believe him, I went through many of the furs he has for sale or trade. None of them were handled in the same way.”
She took off her fur hat and shook out her hair. “Comrade Wulff wears a beautiful fur coat, and so does his wife, whom I happened to see. That’s not unexpected in a section where furs are so common, but I have an idea that the comrade is doing very well by himself. I believe the traders favor him somewhat and that he favors them.”
“So?”
“You and I know that happens, and Wulff seems very happy with his position.”
“It is a good one, and he has friends.” His eyes yielded nothing. “Some of his friends in the higher commands have fine fur coats, too. It is not unusual.”
“I do not criticize. I only comment. One comment would be that Wulff knows a good deal about the furs and their origin. No doubt he could provide information if he wished.”
“Ah?”
Zamatev was thinking about it. That Wulff was being given furs he did not doubt. That he might overlook a few things as a result was also probable. That he would in any way betray his government Zamatev did not believe. If Wulff knew where the American was, he would arrest him or at least report him. Hence, he did not know. But was he, perhaps, negligent? Did he know of a place where the American might be? Wulff had once been a very good man. He had covered a lot of wild country long ago. Now he was an administrator and content to be so.
“You spoke to him?”
“He was cooperative. He went back to the house of Zhikarev with me, but Zhikarev was gone.”
“Gone?”
“Not at home.”
“You went inside?”
“We did. Everything looked much the same, except that the bale of furs had been unpacked and placed with other furs of their kind. There were no signs of hurried packing. It looked like he had just stepped out.”
“But you do not believe it?”
“I do not. I think Stegman frightened him. I think he is gone. I may be wrong, but I do not believe he will come back. Or, let us say, I do not think he planned to come back.”
“But he may?”
“As a precaution I suggested to their commanding officer that the border guards be replaced for a few days. That the guards be given some leave and others put in their places.” She smiled. “Just in the event that Zhikarev had made some friends along the border.”
“Good! Very, very good! A friend of Zhikarev might also befriend a friend of his. You ordered the arrest of Zhikarev?”
“I did.”
Zamatev walked to the window and looked out. The little car was farther down the street tonight. He gave it a glance only. This was a lead, although a slim one, scarcely more than that found by Alekhin.
If the American was an Indian he must also be a trapper. Were they not all hunters and trappers? If so, he might be catching fur to raise money he would need and to pay his way now. In any event, he could not afford to ignore any lead.
“You are tired.”
“Not too tired.”
He smiled. “Go home and get some rest. It will be busy around here tonight.”
“We know nothing,” she warned. “It is only the furs.”
“And the man Zhikarev, who disappeared. It is only the guilty who flee.”
“It is sometimes as dangerous to be merely suspect,” she said. “Zhikarev had been questioned before, by Stegman.”
“And others.”
He paused, thinking about it. “We must find him, but Wulff may know something. He is one who always knows more than he says and uses it for his own benefit. This time he will use it for mine.”
“Be careful of him. He has friends.”
He got out his maps after she had gone and studied them. Kyra and Stegman had gone to the Sinyaya and found nothing, and so they might be anywhere. They had sold their furs in Aldan.
Because it was nearby? Or because they knew a buyer who would ask no questions? Of course, for the profit that could be made, there might be many such. But supposing they were near Aldan? He drew a mental circle around the area and began studying the streams. It was wild country once one got away from the city itself. The Sinyaya was far from Aldan. It was not even close. It was closer to Yakutsk.
He considered that. A possible buyer in Yakutsk? Of course, in such a large place there was certain to be one or more than one. Stegman would know. He had worked out of Yakutsk at one time and knew them all.
It was three o’clock in the morning before Alekhin arrived. He came quietly, sat down, and listened.
He had only just come from the taiga, and when Zamatev told him of the furs his face revealed nothing, but he was smiling inwardly. Of course! The man was an Indian. He could hunt and trap. If he had found a good place to hide and a way to sell the furs he trapped, he should have made some money before warm weather. With money in his pocket and a change of clothes he would be harder to find. He might even leave the forest.
Zamatev shook his head. Not Makatozi. He would stay in the forest. Besides he did not know the language. How long to learn to speak Russian? Even a little bit?
“You do not believe in the furs?” Zamatev demanded.
“I believe. This man is a good trapper, I think. I think you waste time, Alekhin can catch him. Only Alekhin.”
“I want him alive.”
Alekhin shrugged. “Always somebody died. Some like to fight me, so I kill. Why not?”
“A man named Borowsky came with the furs. He was not alone. They came to Aldan.”
Alekhin considered that. There would be tracks. Borowsky was not the American, who knew so well how to hide a trail. Borowsky would have left something, but finding where he had come into the town would be difficult.
“I will look.” Alekhin looked over at Zamatev. “He will fight, this one. If he fights, I kill him.”
“I do not want him killed! Do you understand? I want him alive!” He paused. “You are a shrewd man, Alekhin. You have trapped animals, why not a man? Trap him, and bring him to me. When he has told me what I want, you can have him.”
Alekhin considered that. To trap him? That would be amusing. He would like to see the American in a trap, helpless.
“I will look.” Alekhin got up and, turning, walked out without a backward glance. Zamatev was irritated, but he needed the Yakut. There was no one quite like him, and nobody had escaped once he had started on the trail. The American would not escape, either.
He asked for and received the dossier on Evgeny Zhikarev. Quickly, he leafed through it. There was no harm in the man except it was suspected that he dealt in illicit furs. That was not unusual. Most furs were sold through the proper channels, but some dealers were known to hold back the best furs and sell or trade them on the black market.
Had the man actually fled? He glanced at the dossier again. He had been questioned by Stegman, and Stegman liked to work on the feet. It was unlikely that Zhikarev would be going very far if he had to walk. So they would find him, and they would find where the furs came from.
Kyra — she was like an extension of himself. A shrewd, intelligent woman, but she had been in Shepilov’s department. He must not trust her too much, not yet. Not ever.
It was always best to keep one’s plans to oneself. Tell no one at all and you were safer.
He walked to the window again, thinking of that vast country out there. Obviously, Alekhin must be right. The man was hunting, somehow. If he had sold furs he had a little money. But how had he sold them? He must have established a connection with somebody who could handle the furs or who had put him in touch with Zhikarev. Find that connection. Kyra had made a start. She had found Zhikarev. Of course, they were surmising too much. The furs might not have been trapped by the American. They were grasping at straws. How had the man disappeared so suddenly, so thoroughly?