Pudovkin decided to hold his peace … for the time being. He shook his head and simply uttered: ‘Sir.’
‘The death of the defence lawyer,’ the president went on, ‘casts huge suspicion on this trial. Russia is already being lambasted for the integrity of its judicial system. I now hear that the defence advokat is applying to call the mayor of Moscow as a witness.’
Gazdanov offered no opinion.
‘Maybe – just maybe,’ the president continued, ‘all this could be weathered if your case was cut and dried. But everything's being bungled. What happened with our Formula One driver's testimony? And what the hell was all this business with Baryshnikov's mother?’
‘She was allowed to escape,’ Gazdanov said. ‘If the police operation had been effective, she would never have been allowed to undermine our key prosecution witness.’
Pudovkin swallowed.
The president turned to face him. ‘What do you have to say for yourself, colonel?’
Pudovkin knew this was it.
He wondered whether he should gamble, gamble on getting his retaliation in first. Pudovkin was no stranger to taking risks. Every day of his career had been a gamble. Joining the police force as a gay man during the Putin era had been a huge risk. Pudovkin had lived with the constant threat of being outed – and ousted from his job – every day since.
He suddenly realized he was ready.
This was going to be it. Make or break.
‘What moral authority does a state prosecution have, Mr President,’ he said, ‘if it can only rely on testimony that's been extorted from witnesses?’
Pudovkin forced himself to look the president of Russia in the eye.
The police colonel waited … for an outburst … fully expecting to be reprimanded for such insubordination.
Through his peripheral vision, Pudovkin could see that Gazdanov was now severely agitating. ‘It would have worked,’ came the nasal voice, ‘if the police operation hadn’t been such a cock-up.’
Pudovkin was still on edge. He desperately tried to gauge how the president was taking this.
‘What other witnesses do you have, Gazdanov?’ asked Tarkovsky.
Silently, Pudovkin heaved a huge sigh of relief.
‘Er, plenty,’ said Gazdanov.
‘Name them,’ demanded the president.
‘The Ptarmigan people. The Sabatino woman … er, a number of spectators on that grassy bank. The doctors at the scene of the crash, and … Police Colonel Pudovkin, here.’
‘You expect Police Colonel … Pudovkin, is it? … to testify for you after you’ve just shat on his bogus operation?’
‘I have no doubt that Colonel Pudovkin will do his duty,’ said Gazdanov, ‘to make up for all that's gone wrong so far.’
The president shook his head. ‘Just out of interest, colonel,’ he said looking directly at Pudovkin, ‘how did an elderly woman escape from your custody?’
The police officer replied promptly: ‘Colonel Straker, sir.’
After a moment's pause, the president asked: ‘The man who was killed in the car bomb – the Ptarmigan man?’
Again, Pudovkin was relieved. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘He outwitted you.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘That's pretty candid,’ said the president.
‘Thank you, sir.’
There was another pause.
‘Is that why you had Straker killed, then?’ the president asked him.
‘I didn’t kill him, sir.’
‘Who the fuck did, then? Was it you, Gazdanov?’
‘No … Mr President.’
‘If neither of you two clowns bumped Straker and this lawyer off, then who the hell did?’
The silence in the office was broken only by the tick from the movement of a Fabergé clock egg on the mantelpiece.
Gazdanov finally said: ‘What about our friend?’
The president's expression changed in a heartbeat. He rose straight to his feet. ‘The death of this lawyer changes everything,’ he snapped. ‘CNN is likening her death to those of Sergei Magnitsky, Anna Politkovskaya, Alexandro Litvinenko and Boris Nemtsov. And, now, we have the defence lawyer – in your trial – saying he’ll call Mayor Pavlova as a witness. This is a total fuck-up. Leave me,’ he said, and gave them a dismissive wave of his hand.
