The Half Truth

John motioned with his head to the other side of the road. Another man Tina didn’t recognise lounged against the side of a black BMW. ‘Martin, he’s my partner.’

‘Two of you. That sounds to me like everything is not fine.’

She watched John’s face for any sign that she might be right. It was impassive. ‘Can we come in?’ he said after a moment.

‘I suppose you had better.’

Tina hoped that the air of calm she was desperately trying to project was working. She didn’t want to alarm Dimitri any more than he had already been the past few weeks. She was very much aware he was picking up on her anxieties. He had started having upsetting dreams about hearing footsteps in the night and being watched. A couple of nights ago, his whimpering had woken her, the result of a nightmare that someone was in his room.

Once inside she busied herself making tea for the adults and poured a glass of milk for her son. ‘Why don’t you pop the TV on?’ she said to Dimitri as she took the drink and a biscuit through to the living room.

‘TV? Now?’ said Dimitri excitedly. ‘I can watch it now?’

‘Yes, just this once I’ll make an exception to no TV immediately you get in. You can do your reading and writing later instead.’

Martin followed her into the living room. ‘I’ll watch TV with you, if you want. Haven’t seen Tom and Jerry in years.’

‘Tom and Jerry,’ said Dimitri. ‘I don’t watch that, it’s for babies. No, I’m going to watch Ben 10.’

‘Ben what?’

‘Sit down and you’ll find out,’ said Tina. She was grateful that Martin was acting as a distraction for Dimitri but, at the same time, apprehensive as to what John was about to spring on her.

‘How’s everything?’ John asked her as she came back into the kitchen.

‘Okay. Nothing I can really put my finger on,’ said Tina, motioning towards the table. She took the two cups over. ‘I’ve still got that being watched feeling, which I can’t seem to shake off. I used to always leave the curtains and blinds open when it was dark, but I don’t any more. I find myself double-checking doors are locked. That sort of thing.’

‘You can call me if you’re worried about anything,’ said John.

‘Thank you but I don’t really think you want me to call you at every bump in the night.’ She took a sip of her drink. ‘Last night, I was lying in bed and I was sure I could hear floorboards creaking every now and then.’

‘Really?’

She gave a small laugh at the look of concern on his face. ‘You know what these old houses are like. I was just dropping off to sleep, so I wasn’t really sure what it was. Probably the wind or something.’

‘You weren’t frightened?’

Tina dropped her eyes. She felt foolish, although at the time she had woken with a start and her heart had raced liked an F1 car off the starting grid. ‘Just a bit unnerved. What with what’s been going on recently. I think I’ve been overreacting. Anyway, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?’

‘I don’t want to alarm you any more, but things have moved on with our investigation and we know Pavel came into the country over a couple of weeks ago.’

Tina slowly put her cup of the table. ‘Do you think it was him I saw in the garden?’

John shrugged. ‘Honestly, I can’t say. We don’t know why he’s here. Has he been in touch with you at all?’

‘No. No, he hasn’t. I don’t really know what to make of it. What exactly do you think Pavel is involved in? Why do you need to speak to him?’

She watched John take a sip of his tea, clearly stalling for time as he weighed up her question and formulated his response. His eyes met hers. The evening light bounced off the flecks of gold that laced his green eyes. Troubled eyes. She braced herself for his response.

‘And before you say “to help us with our enquiries” you need to come up with a better reason than that.’ She felt agitated now. John was definitely holding back.

‘I’d love to tell you everything, but at this stage in the investigation …’

She held up her hand to stop him continuing. ‘Police bullshit. Waffle. Call it what you like, but it’s not answering the question.’ She saw the corners of his mouth twitch slightly, as if amused, before a frown settled on his face. He gently drummed his fingers on the table. Long, lean fingers that looked like they should be playing the piano. Fingernails clipped short. There was no wedding band or even a sign that he had ever worn a ring on his finger. She wondered briefly if there was a girlfriend on the scene.

‘Okay, I’ll be honest with you,’ he said.

‘Good. I don’t like being taken for a fool and not told everything.’

‘Pavel was involved in an organised money-laundering ring.’

‘Money-laundering.’ Tina couldn’t help giving a small laugh. The serious look on John’s face killed her laughter. ‘That’s a serious offence. Is there anything else?’

‘Organised crime. Armed robbery and money-laundering. Yeah, you could say they are serious offences.’

‘I knew he was involved with the Porboski gang, but I didn’t think it was anything as serious as armed robbery and money-laundering,’ said Tina. ‘I thought it was more petty crime, a bit of smuggling in vodka or passing on stolen items – that sort of thing.’

‘Much more serious,’ said John. ‘Murder.’

Tina balked. Murder? Pavel? No, that was way off.

‘Are you sure?’ she said. ‘You think Pavel is involved with a murder? Who?’

‘A police officer.’

‘Oh God, that’s serious.’ Tina rested her head in her hands.

‘All murder is serious,’ said John.

There was an uneasy silence whilst Tina took in what she had just been told. Much as she disliked Pavel, she had never had him down as a hardened criminal – a murderer.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said at last. ‘I’m finding this really hard to take in. Sasha never said a word. He couldn’t have known.’

‘Do you recognise this man?’ said John. The change in direction was welcomed. Tina looked at the photograph John placed on the table in front of her.

‘Is he dead?’ She leaned back in her chair, averting her eyes from the image.

‘Yes, he is,’ said John. ‘Found at some docks in London in the last few days. We believe he was looking for Pavel.’

‘Pavel’s very popular.’ Her voice was dry. ‘And no, I don’t recognise him.’

‘Are you sure? Perhaps he came into the deli your husband ran?’

Tina’s eyes flipped to him. ‘How did you know Sasha ran a deli?’ She never referred to it as a deli, it was always ‘the shop’.

‘It’s on record,’ said John. He moved position in his seat. ‘Intelligence-gathering.’

‘Surveillance? Were you watching the shop? Have you been spying on us?’