Our Kind Of Traitor Part 11

Dima's forefinger rests on the bridge of his nose, indicating where the bullet went. Perry is reminded of the same forefinger resting on his sons' noses in the middle of the tennis match.

'Why I murder this apparatchik?' Dima inquires rhetorically. 'Was for my mother mother who protect her who protect her children children. Was for love of my crazy father father who suicide himself. Was for honour of who suicide himself. Was for honour of Russia Russia, I kill this f.u.c.k. Was to stop stares they give us in corridor, maybe. Therefore in Kolyma I am welcome welcome prisoner. I am prisoner. I am krutoi krutoi good fellow, got no problems, pure. I am not good fellow, got no problems, pure. I am not political political. I am criminal. I am hero hero, I am fighter fighter. I kill military apparatchik, maybe also Chekist Chekist. Why else they give me fifteen? I have honour honour. I am not '

Reaching this point in his story, Perry faltered, and his voice became diffident: 'I am not woodp.e.c.k.e.r woodp.e.c.k.e.r. I am not dog dog, Professor,' he offered dubiously.

'He means informant,' Hector explained. 'Woodp.e.c.k.e.r, dog, hen: take your pick. They all mean informant. He's trying to persuade you that he isn't one when he is.'

With a nod of respect for Hector's superior knowledge, Perry resumed.

'One day, after three years, this good boy Dima will become man man. How he become man man? My friend Nikita Nikita will make him man. Who is will make him man. Who is Nikita Nikita? Nikita is also honourable honourable, also good fighter fighter, big criminal. He will be father father to this good boy Dima. He will be to this good boy Dima. He will be brother brother to him. He will to him. He will protect protect Dima. He will Dima. He will love love Dima. It will be Dima. It will be pure pure love. One day, it is very good day for me, proud day, Nikita bring me to love. One day, it is very good day for me, proud day, Nikita bring me to vory vory. You know what is vory vory, Professor? You know what is vor vor?'

Yes, Perry even knows what is vory vory. He knows vor vor too. He has read his Solzhenitsyn, he has read his Shalamov. He has read that in the Gulag the too. He has read his Solzhenitsyn, he has read his Shalamov. He has read that in the Gulag the vory vory are the prisoners' arbiters and enforcers of justice, a brotherhood of criminals of honour sworn to abide by a strict code of conduct, to renounce marriage, property and subservience to the State; that the are the prisoners' arbiters and enforcers of justice, a brotherhood of criminals of honour sworn to abide by a strict code of conduct, to renounce marriage, property and subservience to the State; that the vory vory venerate priesthood and dabble in its mystique; and that venerate priesthood and dabble in its mystique; and that vor vor is the singular of is the singular of vory vory, plural. And that the vory' vory's pride is to be Criminals within the Law, an aristocracy far removed from street riff-raff who have never known a law in their lives.

'My Nikita speak to very big vory vory committee. Many big criminals are present for this meeting, many good fighters. He tell to committee. Many big criminals are present for this meeting, many good fighters. He tell to vory vory: "My dear brothers, here is Dima Dima. Dima is ready ready, my brothers. Take him." So they take take Dima, they make him Dima, they make him man man. They make him criminal of honour. But Nikita must still protect protect Dima. This is because Dima is his ' Dima. This is because Dima is his '

As Dima the criminal of honour hunts for the mot juste mot juste, Perry the outward-bound Oxford don comes to his a.s.sistance: 'Disciple?'

'Disciple! Yes, Professor! Like for Jesus! Nikita will protect his disciple disciple Dima. This is normal. This is Dima. This is normal. This is vory vory law. He will protect him law. He will protect him always always. This is promise promise. Nikita has made me vor vor. Therefore he protect me. But he die.'

Dima dabs at his bald brow with his handkerchief, then smears his wrist across his eyes, then pinches his nostrils between his finger and thumb like a swimmer emerging from the water. When the hand comes down, Perry sees that he is weeping for Nikita's death.

Hector has called a natural break. Luke has made coffee. Perry accepts a cup, and a chocolate digestive while he's about it. The lecturer in him is in full flood, rallying his facts and observations, presenting them with all the accuracy and precision he can muster. But nothing can quite douse the glint of excitement in his eyes, or the flush of his gaunt cheeks.

And perhaps the self-editor in him is aware of this, and troubled by it: which is why, when he resumes, he selects a staccato, almost offhand style of narrative more in keeping with pedagogic objectivity than the rush of adventure: 'Nikita had picked up a camp fever. It was midwinter. Minus sixty degrees Celsius, or thereabouts. A lot of prisoners were dying. Guards didn't give a d.a.m.n. The hospitals weren't there to cure, they were places to die in. Nikita was a tough nut and took a long time dying. Dima tended him. Missed his prison work, got the punishment cell. Each time they let him out, he went back to Nikita in the hospital until they dragged him off again. Beating, starving, light deprivation, chained to a wall in sub-zero temperatures. All the stuff you people outsource to less fastidious countries, and pretend you know nothing about,' he adds, in a spurt of semi-humorous belligerence that falls flat. 'And while he was comforting Nikita, they agreed that Dima would induct his own protege into the vory vory Brotherhood. It was a solemn moment, apparently: the dying Nikita appointing his posterity by way of Dima. A pa.s.sing of the chalice across three generations of criminals. Dima's protege Brotherhood. It was a solemn moment, apparently: the dying Nikita appointing his posterity by way of Dima. A pa.s.sing of the chalice across three generations of criminals. Dima's protege disciple disciple, as he was now pleased to call him, thanks to me, I'm afraid was one Mikhail, alias Misha Misha.' Perry reproduces the moment: '"Misha is man of honour, like me!" I tell to them,' Dima is proclaiming to the vory vory's high committee of made men. '"He is criminal, not political. Misha love true true Mother Russia not Soviet Union. Misha respect all Mother Russia not Soviet Union. Misha respect all women women. He strong strong, he pure pure, he not woodp.e.c.k.e.r, he not dog, not military, not camp guard, KGB. He not policeman policeman. He kill kill policemen. He despise all apparatchik. Misha my policemen. He despise all apparatchik. Misha my son son. He your brother. Take the son of Dima for your vory vory brother!"' brother!"'

Perry still determinedly in lecture mode. The following facts for your notebooks, please, ladies and gentlemen. The pa.s.sage I am about to read to you represents the short version of Dima's personal history, as recounted by him in the lookout of the house called Three Chimneys between slurps of vodka: 'As soon as he was released from Kolyma he hurried home to Perm and was in time to bury his mother. The early 1980s were boom years for criminals. Life in the fast lane was short and dangerous, but profitable. With his impeccable credentials Dima was received with open arms by the local vory vory. Discovering that he had a natural eye for numbers, he quickly engaged in illegal currency speculation, insurance fraud and smuggling. A fast-expanding folio of petty crime takes him to Communist East Germany. Car theft, false pa.s.sports and currency deals a speciality. And along the way he equips himself with spoken German. He takes his women where he finds them, but his continuing partner is Tamara, a black-market dealer in such rare commodities as women's clothing and essential foods, resident in Perm. With the a.s.sistance of Dima and like-minded accomplices she also runs a sideline in extortion, abduction and blackmail. This brings her into conflict with a rival brotherhood who first take her prisoner and torture her, then frame her and hand her over to the police who torture her some more. Dima explains Tamara's problem problem: '"She don't never squeal, Professor, hear me? She good criminal, better than man. They put her in press-cell. Know what is press-cell? They hang her upside down, rape her ten, twenty time, beat the s.h.i.t outta her, but she don't never squeal. She tell them, go f.u.c.k themselves. Tamara, she big fighter, no b.i.t.c.h b.i.t.c.h."'

Again Perry offered the word with diffidence, and again Hector quietly came to his rescue: 'b.i.t.c.h being even worse than dog or woodp.e.c.k.e.r. A b.i.t.c.h betrays the underworld code. Dima's getting the serious guilts by now.' being even worse than dog or woodp.e.c.k.e.r. A b.i.t.c.h betrays the underworld code. Dima's getting the serious guilts by now.'

'Then perhaps that's why he stumbled over the word,' Perry suggested, and Hector said perhaps it was.

Perry as Dima again: 'One day the police get so G.o.ddam sick of her they strip her naked, leave her in the f.u.c.king snow. She don't never squeal, hear me? She go a bit crazy, OK? Talk to G.o.d. Buy a lotta icons. Bury money in the f.u.c.king garden, can't find it, who givva f.u.c.k? This woman got loyalty, hear me? I don't never let her go. Natasha's mother, I loved her. But Tamara, I never let her go. Hear me?'

Perry hears him.

As soon as Dima starts to make serious money he packs Tamara off to a Swiss clinic for rest and rehabilitation, then marries her. Within a year their twin sons are born. Hot upon the wedding comes the betrothal of Tamara's sensationally beautiful, much younger sister, Olga, a high-cla.s.s hooker greatly prized by the vory vory. And the bridegroom is none other than Dima's beloved disciple Misha, by now also released from Kolyma.

'With the union of Olga and Misha, Dima's cup was full,' Perry declared. 'Dima and Misha were henceforth true brothers. Under vory vory law, Misha was already Dima's son, but the marriage made the family relationship absolute. Dima's children would be Misha's children, Misha's children would be his,' Perry said, and sat back decisively, as if waiting for questions from the back of the hall. law, Misha was already Dima's son, but the marriage made the family relationship absolute. Dima's children would be Misha's children, Misha's children would be his,' Perry said, and sat back decisively, as if waiting for questions from the back of the hall.

But Hector, who had been observing with some amus.e.m.e.nt Perry's retreat into his academic skin, preferred to offer his own brand of wry comment: 'Which is a b.l.o.o.d.y odd thing about these vory vory chaps, wouldn't you say? One minute forswearing marriage, politics and the State and all its works, the next prancing up the aisle in full rig with the church bells ringing. Have another shot of this. Only a teaspoon. Water?' chaps, wouldn't you say? One minute forswearing marriage, politics and the State and all its works, the next prancing up the aisle in full rig with the church bells ringing. Have another shot of this. Only a teaspoon. Water?'

Business with the bottle and water jug.

'It's who they all were, isn't it?' Perry reflected extraneously, sipping at his very weak whisky. 'All those weird cousins and uncles in Antigua. They were Criminals within the Law who had come to commiserate about Misha and Olga.'

Perry's resolute lecture mode again. Perry as capsule historian, and nothing else: Perm is no longer large enough for Dima or the Brotherhood. Business is expanding. Crime syndicates are forming alliances. Deals are being cut with foreign mafias. Best of all, Dima the bete intellectuelle bete intellectuelle of Kolyma with no education worth a d.a.m.n has discovered a natural talent for laundering criminal proceeds. When Dima's Brotherhood decides to open up for business in America, it's Dima they send to New York to set up a money-laundering chain based in Brighton Beach. Dima takes Misha as his enforcer. When the Brotherhood decides to open a European arm of his money-laundering business, it's Dima they appoint to the post. As a condition of acceptance, Dima again requests the appointment of Misha, this time as his number two in Rome. Request granted. Now the Dimas and the Mishas are indeed one family, trading together, playing together, exchanging houses and visits, admiring one another's children. of Kolyma with no education worth a d.a.m.n has discovered a natural talent for laundering criminal proceeds. When Dima's Brotherhood decides to open up for business in America, it's Dima they send to New York to set up a money-laundering chain based in Brighton Beach. Dima takes Misha as his enforcer. When the Brotherhood decides to open a European arm of his money-laundering business, it's Dima they appoint to the post. As a condition of acceptance, Dima again requests the appointment of Misha, this time as his number two in Rome. Request granted. Now the Dimas and the Mishas are indeed one family, trading together, playing together, exchanging houses and visits, admiring one another's children.

Perry takes another sip of whisky.

'That was in the days of the old Prince old Prince,' Perry says, almost nostalgically. 'For Dima, the golden age. The old Prince was a true vor vor. He could do no wrong.'

'And the new new Prince?' Hector inquires provocatively. 'The young fellow? Any take on Prince?' Hector inquires provocatively. 'The young fellow? Any take on him him at all?' at all?'

Perry is not amused. 'You know b.l.o.o.d.y well there was,' he growls. And adds: 'The new young Prince is the b.i.t.c.h of all time. The traitor of traitors. He's the Prince who delivers the vory vory to the State, which is the worst thing any to the State, which is the worst thing any vor vor can do. Betraying a man like that is a duty in Dima's eyes, not a crime.' can do. Betraying a man like that is a duty in Dima's eyes, not a crime.'

'You like those little kids, Professor?' Dima asks in a tone of false detachment, throwing back his head and affecting to study the flaking panels of the ceiling: 'Katya? Irina? You like like?'

'Of course I do. They're wonderful.'

'Gail, she like too?'

'You know she does. She's terribly sorry for them.'

'What they tell her, the little girls, how their father die?'

'In a car smash. Ten days ago. Outside Moscow. A tragedy. The father and mother both.'

'Sure. Was tragedy. Was car smash. Very simple simple car smash. Very car smash. Very normal normal car smash. In Russia we get many such car smash. Four men, four Kalashnikov, maybe sixty bullet, who givva s.h.i.t? That's a G.o.ddam car smash, Professor. One body, twenty maybe thirty bullet. My Misha, my disciple, a kid, forty year old. Dima take him to the car smash. In Russia we get many such car smash. Four men, four Kalashnikov, maybe sixty bullet, who givva s.h.i.t? That's a G.o.ddam car smash, Professor. One body, twenty maybe thirty bullet. My Misha, my disciple, a kid, forty year old. Dima take him to the vory vory, make him a man man.'

A sudden outbreak of fury: 'So why do I not protect my Misha? Why I let him go to Moscow? Let b.i.t.c.h Prince's b.a.s.t.a.r.ds kill him twenty, thirty bullet? Kill Olga, beautiful sister of my wife Tamara, mother of Misha's little girls. Why I not protect him? You are Professor! You tell me, please, why do I not protect my Misha?'

If it was fury, not volume, that gave his voice such unearthly strength, it is the chameleon nature of the man that enables him to put aside his fury in favour of despondent Slav reflection: 'OK. Maybe Tamara's sister Olga, she not so G.o.ddam religious,' he says, conceding a point that Perry hasn't made. 'I tell to Misha: "Maybe your Olga still look at other guys too much, got beautiful a.r.s.e. Maybe you don't screw around no more, Misha, stay home once, like me now, take a bit care of her."' His voice falls to a whisper again: 'Thirty G.o.ddam bullet, Professor. That b.i.t.c.h Prince gotta pay something for thirty bullet in my Misha.'

Perry had gone quiet. It was as if a distant bell had sounded for the end of the lecture period, and he had belatedly become aware of it. For a moment he appeared to surprise himself by his presence at the table. Then with a jerk of his long, angular body he re-entered time present.

'So that's basically about it it then,' he said, in a tone to wrap things up. 'Dima sank into himself for a while, woke up, seemed puzzled I was there, resented my presence, then decided I was all right, then forgot me again and put his hands over his face and muttered to himself in Russian. Then he stood up, and fished around in his satin shirt, and yanked out the little package I included in my doc.u.ment,' he went on. 'Handed it to me, embraced me. It was an emotional moment.' then,' he said, in a tone to wrap things up. 'Dima sank into himself for a while, woke up, seemed puzzled I was there, resented my presence, then decided I was all right, then forgot me again and put his hands over his face and muttered to himself in Russian. Then he stood up, and fished around in his satin shirt, and yanked out the little package I included in my doc.u.ment,' he went on. 'Handed it to me, embraced me. It was an emotional moment.'

'For both of you.'

'In our separate ways, yes, it was. I think it was.'

He seemed suddenly in a hurry to go back to Gail.

'Any instructions to accompany the package at all?' Hector asked, while little B-list Luke beside him smiled to himself over his neatly folded hands.

'Sure. "Take this to your apparatchiks, Professor. A present from World Number One money-launderer. Tell them I want fair play." Exactly as I wrote in my doc.u.ment.'

'Any idea what was in in the package?' the package?'

'Only guesses, really. It was wrapped in cotton wool, then cling-film. As you saw. I a.s.sumed it was an audio ca.s.sette from a baby recorder of some kind. Or that's what it felt like anyway.'

Hector remained unpersuaded. 'And you didn't attempt to open it.'

'G.o.d no. It was addressed to you. I just made sure it was firmly pasted inside the cover of the dossier.'

Slowly turning the pages of Perry's doc.u.ment, Hector gave a distracted nod.

'He was carrying it against his body,' Perry continued, evidently feeling a need to fend off the gathering silence: 'It made me think of Kolyma. The tricks they must have got up to. Secreting messages and so on. The thing was dripping wet. I had to wipe it dry on a towel when I got back to our cabin.'

'And you didn't open it?'

'I said I didn't. Why should I? I'm not in the habit of reading other people's letters. Or listening to them.'

'Not even before you pa.s.sed through Customs at Gatwick?'

'Certainly not.'

'But you felt felt it.' it.'

'Of course I did. I just told you I did. What's this about? Through the plastic film. And the cotton wool. When he gave it to me.'

'And when he'd given it to you, what did you do with it?'

'Put it in a safe place.'

'Where was that?'

'I'm sorry?'

'The safe place. Where was it?'

'In my shaving bag. The moment I got back to our cabin, I went straight into the bathroom and put it there.'

'Next to your toothbrush, as it were.'

'As it were.'

Another long silence. Was it as long for them as it was for Perry? He feared not.

'Why?' Hector demanded finally.

'Why what?'

'The shaving bag,' Hector replied patiently.

'I thought it would be safer.'

'When you pa.s.sed through Customs at Gatwick?'

'Yes.'

'You thought that's where everybody keeps their ca.s.settes?'

'I just thought it would be' he shrugged.

'Less conspicuous in a shaving bag?'

'Something like that.'

'Did Gail know?'

'What? Of course not. No.'

'I should think not. Is the recording in Russian or English?'

'How on earth do I know? I didn't listen listen to it.' to it.'

'Dima didn't tell you which language it was in?'

'He offered no description of it whatever, other than the one I've given you. Cheers.'

He took a last swig of his very thin Scotch, then set his gla.s.s heavily on the table, signifying finality. But Hector did not at all share his haste. Quite the contrary. He turned back a page of Perry's doc.u.ment. Then forward a couple.

'So why why again?' Hector pursued. again?' Hector pursued.

'Why what?'

'Why do it at all? Why smuggle a dicey package through British Customs for a Russian crook? Why not chuck it in the Caribbean and forget about it?'

'I'd have thought it was pretty obvious.'

'It is to me. I wouldn't have thought it was for you. What's so pretty obvious about it?'

Perry searched, but seemed to have no answer to the question.

'Well how about because it's there because it's there?' Hector suggested. 'Isn't that why climbers are supposed to climb?'

'So they say.'

'Load of b.o.l.l.o.c.ks, actually. It's because the climbers are there. Don't blame the b.l.o.o.d.y mountain. Blame the climbers. Agree?'

'Probably.'

'They're the chaps who see the distant peak. The mountain doesn't give a b.u.g.g.e.r.'