"Smith, Martin Cruz - Polar Star" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Martin Cruz)

'Have you been in contact with her?'

'From here?'

'You've been questioned before.'

'Many times.'

Volovoi flipped the pages of the dossier. ' "Political unreliability"... "political unreliability". Let me tell you what is humorous to me as first mate. In a few days we will be in Dutch Harbor. Everyone on this ship will go into port for shopping with one exception: you. Because everyone on this ship has a No. 1 seaman's visa with one exception: you. I must assume you have only a No. 2 visa because those people who should know believe you cannot be trusted with foreigners or in a foreign port. Yet you are the man the captain wants to assist Bukovsky, even to help him speak to the Americans on board or to those on the trawlers. That's either humorous or very odd.'

Arkady shrugged. 'Humour is such a personal thing.'

'But to be expelled from the Party...' The Invalid liked hitting that nail, Arkady thought. Never mind disнmissal and exile; the real punishment, the fear of every apparatchik, was losing his Party card. Molotov, for example, was denounced for writing up the murder lists of thousands of Stalin's victims. He wasn't in real trouble, though, until they took away his card.

'Membership in the Party was too great an honour. I could not bear it.

'So it seems.' Volovoi pondered the file again. Perhaps the words were too painful. He lifted his eyes to the bookshelves, as if no story there could be so tawdry. 'The captain, of course, is a Party member. Like many sea captains, however, he has a decisive nature, a personнality that enjoys risk. He's astute about fishing, about avoiding icebergs, simply going to starboard or port. But politics and human personality are more complicated, more dangerous. Of course he wants to know what happened to the dead girl. We all do. Nothing is more important. That's why the proper control of any inquiry is vital.'

'I've heard that before,' Arkady admitted.

'And didn't listen. Then you were a Party member, a high official, a man with a title. I see by your file that you haven't been on shore for almost a year. Renko, you're a prisoner on this ship. When we return to Vladivostock, while your cabinmates return to their girlfriends or families, you will be met by the Border Guard, an arm of State Security. You know that or you would have left the ship the last time we were home. You have no home, you have no place to go. Your only hope is a strongly positive evaluation from the Polar Star. I am the officer who writes that evaluation.'

'What do you want?'

'I expect', Volovoi said, 'to be closely and quietly informed before any report is made to the captain.'

'Ah.' Arkady bowed his head. 'Well, it's not an investiнgation, it's only asking questions for a day. I'm not in charge.'

'Since Slava Bukovsky speaks little English, it's obvious you will do some of the questioning. Questions have to be asked, the truth ascertained, before any proper conclusion can be reached. It's important that no inforнmation be given to the Americans.'

'I can only do my best. Would you like accidental death? We've considered food poisoning. Homicide?'

'It's also important to protect the name of the ship.'

'Suicide comes in many forms.'

'And the reputation of the unfortunate worker.'

'We could declare her still alive and name her the Queen of Fisherman's Day. Whatever you want. Write it out and I'll sign it right now.'

Volovoi slowly closed the dossier, dropped it into his briefcase, pushed back his chair and stood. His pinkish eyes became a little redder and more fixed, the instinctive reaction of a man sighting a natural enemy.

Arkady gazed back. I know you too.

'Do I have permission to leave?'

'Yes.' Volovoi's voice had gone dry. 'Renko,' he added as Arkady turned to go.

'Yes?'