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not tried everything he could think of? And not a single lead. Well, not many. There was, of course, Alekhin's feeling and the indications he, Alekhin, believed in. Zamatev sat down behind his desk and page by page went over the reports he had received from the field. Negative. Page 88 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html The man had vanished like a ghost. In a vast, only partly explored land, without weapons, without food, without proper clothing, he had disappeared. The man could not speak Russian. He could not possibly know the country well enough to exist. Aside from the one insubstantial story Alekhin had, there were no reports of thefts; yet somehow if alive, the man had to be eating. Pennington had been brought back and grilled. He had been treated roughly, yet he obviously knew nothing. It was apparent that Pennington was telling the truth. After all, they had had no time together, and their conversation, carefully overheard, had been an exchange of the most obvious kind. As Pennington said, the man would not and could not trust him. Their informant in the prison knew nothing, either. Zamatev made tea. He liked it strong, and on this night he needed it. Once more he got out the map and studied it. First, the large map of the Trans-Baikal and the lands to the east. That portion of Siberia east of Lake Baikal, lying between the Amur River border with China and the Arctic Ocean, was a huge piece of territory. He merely glanced at the thick finger of land pointing eastward toward the Bering Strait and Alaska. That was impossible, absolutely impossible. Mountains, rivers, and tundra. Few villages, few people, many small mountain ranges, swamps, and bitter cold. South toward the Amur; that has to be it. Perhaps eastward, south of Magadan? He was studying the map when he heard the tap on the door. For a moment he sat starkly still. The KGB? They usually came in the night. But he, Zamatev,was the KGB, or at least he was the GRU, which was almost the same thing. The knock came again. Too light for that. He walked to the door. "Who is there?" he demanded. "Kyra." He opened the door. "Come in! Come in! How are you?" His kiss was brief. Her lips were cold from the night air. There was no nonsense about her. She walked right to his desk. She placed a typewritten report on the map, "It is there, what I have learned, but let me tell you. I think I have a lead." He sat down and leaned back in the chair. "Tell me." "We covered a lot of area and we found nothing, nothing at all. We asked questions, we looked at reports. Nothing." "In Aldan, however, there is a dealer in furs. A man named Evgeny Zhikarev." "I know the name." "Exactly. Stegman had questioned him once." "What about him?" "A dealer in furs, as I said, and a small bale of furs had just been received. Obviously he was nervous, and it had something to do with the furs. I went through them, and I know something of pelts. Some of them were very fine skins, and the best of them were treated in a different way from the bulk. Page 89 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html Most of the furs were crudely handled, but a number of them showed the skilled hand of a man who both knew about furs and cared about them. "Zhikarev had obviously noticed it, too, but he disclaimed any knowledge of the man who had done it. I believe him." "You believehim? " "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. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |