The researcher replied: ‘We’re not sure. Olyshenko was fifty-six. It appears he acquired a disease that killed him … inside three weeks.’
‘He hadn’t been ill before then?’
The researcher shook his head. ‘Remarkably fit. Olyshenko was known to run several marathons a year.’ Pokrovsky handed over a newspaper cutting showing a photograph of Olyshenko crossing the finishing line of the Moscow Marathon: a respectable time of 2 hours 57 minutes showed on a digital clock above the finishing arch.
‘What else can we glean from this bidding entity, Moscow 100? Who else was on the board?’
‘Deputy Vladimir Kosygin.’
‘Deputy meaning what?’ asked Straker.
‘It's the styling of elected members of a government here,’ explained McMahon. ‘It can be applied to politicians at the city, regional or federal level.’
Pokrovsky nodded in confirmation. ‘In Kosygin's case, he was an elected member of the Moscow City Duma; he represented the United Russia Party.’
‘And so, presumably, was on the Moscow 100 board for his local connections.’
‘We assume so – his patch did encompass the Nagatinskaya Poyma Park, where the Autodrom was built. Kosygin stood and had been re-elected for the same single-seat constituency for the last twenty years, pretty much since Perestroika. He had built up a significant personal following – and a sizeable majority – even outperforming his party's showing in neighbouring seats.’
‘So a good local worthy, then. Do we know anything else about him?’
‘Yes. He, too, was removed from the board of Moscow 100.’
‘Why?’
‘He lost his position as deputy.’
‘So he ceased to be useful, politically?’
‘Maybe, only there is something else slightly weird about him, too …’
‘Go on.’
‘After twenty years’ service, and countless election wins in his district, Kosygin was de-selected from his seat and dropped by the United Russia Party at the end of last year.’
‘Not voted out?’
Pokrovsky shook his head. ‘There was no public election; he still had eighteen months of his term left to run.’
‘Was there a local squabble? Some sort of scandal?’
Pokrovsky looked a little sceptical. ‘Talk around Moscow has it that there was direct intervention by the United Russia Party high command…’
‘…and the leader of the United Russia Party,’ said McMahon, ‘is – of course – President Tarkovsky.’
Straker exhaled. ‘Wow,’ he said. ‘Is there any chance of talking to this guy – Kosygin?’
One of the researchers replied: ‘We can look into it.’
‘Okay. Who is the last board member?’
‘Menashe Rosenthal,’ said one of the researchers. ‘He was a Muscovite – a businessman – who ran a sizeable construction and property company around western Russia.’
‘Hang on,’ interjected McMahon. ‘You’re using the past tense …?
‘Yes.’
‘What did he die of?’
‘We haven’t been able to find out.’
‘How old was he?’ McMahon asked.
‘Thirty-nine.’
‘Holy shit!’
‘Was Rosenthal a petrol head,’ asked Straker, ‘or a businessman?’
‘He was a property man, so his property expertise would have been useful to Moscow 100,’ replied Pokrovsky, ‘but I’d say Rosenthal was a genuine petrol head. He’d amassed one of the largest private collections of supercars in Russia.’
‘So we’re saying,’ stated Straker, ‘that of the four people involved in the bid for the Moscow Grand Prix, three were forcibly removed?’
There were nods.
‘You’ve also discovered that two of the four board members are dead, having died relatively young from unexpected – and, as yet, unidentified causes?’
More nods.
