The Silent Sisters (Charles Jenkins #3)

“No, but don’t you think that is odd behavior for one person, let alone two so close in time to one another?”

“Yes. It is, certainly.” Sokalov pushed a button beneath his desk. A moment later his phone buzzed. Sokalov picked up the receiver and acted as if he were listening to someone speak. He hung up. “I’m sorry to cut our conversation short, Helge, but I have meetings, as I said. Let me cut to the chase here. What is it that you would have me do?”

“Maria respects you, Dmitry. She respects this office. I understand that affairs are forbidden so employees don’t divulge classified information to a lover.”

“As I said, it is frowned upon.”

“I was hoping you might speak to her, in private, remind her of her responsibilities and the potential risk she is taking. This is a difficult thing for a man to ask . . . I was once a professional football player; have I told you that before?”

Sokalov tried his best to look grave. Inside he smiled. The man was asking Sokalov to spend time with his wife. Sokalov would certainly accommodate him. He’d spend time on top of and below Maria. “Yes, Helge, and I know you are a proud man, a proud Russian man. I promise you I will look at this from every possible angle. You don’t need to trouble yourself or do anything more. If I learn of anything, anything at all, I will notify you immediately.” He looked to the jewelry on the desk. “Let me keep these for when I speak to Maria. It will give me some credibility, don’t you think?”

“Yes, of course.” Kulikov sighed in relief.

Sokalov moved toward the office door. The two men shook hands. “Speak of this to no one,” Sokalov said. “We do not want to ruin a woman’s reputation . . . or yours, if this turns out to be nothing at all.”

“Of course, Dmitry. I appreciate you being discreet.”

Helge stepped from the office and Sokalov closed the door behind him. He nearly laughed out loud. He went back to his desk and picked up the jewelry. Thinking. Part of him wanted to call Maria into the office and spank her, then take her right on his desk . . . maybe with her husband watching. Maybe then the idiot would understand.

He caught himself and tempered his thoughts. Though relieved, he knew he had dodged a bullet. Maria’s sloppiness bringing the jewelry home had nearly exposed them both, and the consequences for Sokalov were far more grave.

He also couldn’t dismiss the wrong numbers and the excursion to a temple. Could Maria be having an affair with another man? Doing to him all the things she did for Sokalov? Did she even have the time?

Sokalov picked up the desk phone and pressed her call button. “Can you come in, please.”

A moment later, Maria stepped into his office. “Yes? Did you need something?”

He flipped a switch, creating white noise in his office. “I need you. I’ve missed not seeing you,” he said.

“You have been busy, and you must keep Olga happy, after all.”

“Do not remind me. Were it not for her father, you and I could be together.” That would never happen, but he hoped the possibility would keep Maria spreading her legs.

“I understand the situation and have for some time, Dmitry.”

“Would you like that, to be with me?”

“Do not toy with my emotions.”

No. He would leave the toying to her. “I had a visitor this afternoon. Do you know who?”

Maria shook her head.

“Your husband.”

“Helge?” Her jaw dropped and she paled.

Sokalov placed the watch and the bracelet on his desk. Her shoulders slumped. “He believes you are having an affair.”

She shut her eyes. After a moment she said, “Oh, Dmitry, I am sorry.”

“He said he found these hidden in your stockings.”

She sighed. “It was careless of me to bring them home. It was the night we went to the Bolshoi. I wanted to wear them out, Dmitry. I wanted to look good for you. I’m sorry. I didn’t have a chance to put them back in the safe, so I hid them in my drawer. I forgot all about them.”

“You must be careful. Helge is following you.”

“Following me? Why?”

“He told me that you have been receiving telephone calls, wrong numbers—”

“Ugh.” She turned away. Her voice became defiant. “He is obsessed with these wrong numbers, but he won’t call the telephone company to find out why we keep getting them. Let me guess. He told you the calls are from my lover setting up secret rendezvous.”

“That is exactly what he said. He said he followed you one night when you walked the dog.”

Again, she shook her head to indicate she did not know what he meant. “I always walk the dog while he sits and drinks vodka.”

“He followed you to Teremok.”

She sighed. “I picked up dinner. I didn’t feel like being home with him again when he’d been drinking.” She shook her head. “And I stopped for a bit at the Temple of the Martyr Anastasia.”

“Why?”

Tears pooled in her eyes. “I didn’t want to go home. So . . .”

“Oh, Zaychik, I am sorry. Come here.” He held out a hand. Maria stepped toward him and offered her hand. He felt the warmth and softness of her skin and thought of running his hand along the smooth contours of her body. He could smell her perfume and the scent of her; her vulnerability was Pavlovian. He felt himself becoming aroused.

Tears ran down her cheeks. Maria removed her hand to wipe them away and save her makeup.

“I find excuses to not be at home, but now Helge is retired, with nothing but time for these silly accusations.”

“Not so silly. You do have a lover.” Sokalov smiled.

Another sigh. “He thinks he is Porfiry Petrovich,” she said, referring to the lead investigator in Crime and Punishment.

“He said you went behind the icon and, that after you left, a man went into the church and did the same.”

She laughed lightly. “Extra candles are kept behind the statue. If you want to light a candle and leave a donation, that’s where you will find them.”

Sokalov laughed. “Maybe he is more Inspector Clouseau than Petrovich.”

“Dmitry, I am so sorry he bothered you with this nonsense. How should I handle it?”

“Tell him that I spanked you a hundred times. You would like that, would you not? I know I would.” He adjusted the crotch of his pants so she could see his arousal.

“I’m serious, Dmitry. What do I tell him to make him let this go? If I don’t, he might very well catch the two of us and go to Olga. Then what would happen?”

“Yes,” Sokalov said, the very mention of his wife’s name sending a chill through his body, deflating him. He thought for a moment, then said, “Tell him that I confronted you with the jewelry, and I admonished you and reminded you of your duties and your responsibilities and that the matter is now over.”

“Thank you, Dmitry. What would I do without you?”

He opened his knees to pull her closer. She placed a hand on his desk, bent her leg, and jammed her knee into his crotch. He flinched as she added more weight. “Why did you toy with me? Do you not trust me, Dmitry?” She jammed the knee against him a second time.