Moscow Rules

would have thought you would be aware of that. Who are you? And who do you work for?”
     
     
    Sarah stared straight ahead at Gabriel’s immaculate brushstrokes. Under no circumstances are you to tell her your real name or occupation when you’re on hostile territory, he had said. Your cover is everything. Wear it like body armor, especially when you’re on Ivan’s turf.
     
     
    “My name is Sarah Crawford. I work for the Dillard Center for Democracy in Washington. We met for the first time in the Cotswolds, when you purchased this painting by Mary Cassatt from my uncle.”
     
     
    “Quickly, Sarah. We haven’t much time.”
     
     
    “I’m a friend, Elena. A very good friend. I’m here to help you finish what you started. You have something you want to tell us about your husband. I’m here to listen.”
     
     
    Elena was silent for a moment. “He’s quite fond of you, Sarah. Was it always your intention to seduce my husband?”
     
     
    “I assure you, Elena, your husband has absolutely no interest in me.”
     
     
    “How can you be so certain?”
     
     
    “Because he’s brought his mistress into your house.”
     
     
    Elena’s head turned sharply toward Sarah. “Who is she?”
     
     
    “Yekatarina.”
     
     
    “It’s not possible. She’s a child.”
     
     
    “That child is staying in a suite at the Carlton Hotel. Ivan is paying her bills.”
     
     
    “How do you know this?”
     
     
    “We know, Elena. We know everything.”
     
     
    “You’re lying to me. You’re trying to—”
     
     
    “We’re not trying to do anything but help you. And the only lies we tell are the ones necessary to deceive Ivan. We haven’t lied to you, Elena, and we never will.”
     
     
    “How do you know he’s seeing her?”
     
     
    “Because we follow him. And we listen to him. Did you see those pearls she was wearing today?”
     
     
    Elena gave an almost imperceptible nod.
     
     
    “He gave those pearls to her in June when he went to Paris. You remember his trip to Paris, don’t you, Elena? You were in Moscow. Ivan said he needed to go for business. It was a lie, of course. He went there to see Yekatarina. He called you three times while he was in her apartment.You took the third call while you were having lunch with friends at Café Pushkin. We have a photograph if you’d like to see it.”
     
     
    Elena was forced to absorb this news of her husband’s treachery with a tranquil smile—Ivan’s cameras were watching. Sarah was tempted to spare her the rest. She didn’t, more out of loathing for Ivan than any other reason.
     
     
    “Yekatarina thinks she’s the only one, but she’s not. There’s a flight attendant called Tatyana. And there was a girl in London named Ludmila. I’m afraid Ivan treated her very badly. Eventually, he treats them all badly.”
     
     
    Elena’s eyes filled with tears.
     
     
    “You mustn’t cry, Elena. Ivan might be watching us. You have to smile while I tell you these awful things.”
     
     
    Elena went to Sarah’s side, and their shoulders touched. Sarah could feel her trembling. Whether it was with grief or fear, she could not tell.
     
     
    “How long have you been watching me?”
     
     
    “It’s not important, Elena. It’s only important that you finish what you started.”
     
     
    Elena laughed softly to herself, as though she found Sarah’s remark mildly amusing. Her gaze swept over the surface of the painting while her fingertips explored the texture of the faux craquelure.
     
     
    “You had no right to pry into my private life.”
     
     
    “We had no choice.”
     
     
    Elena lapsed into silence. Sarah, for the moment, was listening to another voice.
     
     
    Place the sales contract carefully before her and lay the pen next to it. But don’t pressure her into signing. She has to reach the decision on her own. Otherwise, she’s no use to us.
     
     
    “He wasn’t always like this,” Elena said finally. “Even when he worked for the KGB. You might find this hard to believe, Sarah, but Ivan was really quite charming when I first met him.”
     
     
    “I don’t find it hard to believe at all. He’s still quite charming.”
     
     
    “When he wants to be.” She was still touching the craquelure. “When I first met Ivan, he told me he worked in some dreary Soviet agricultural office. A few weeks later, after we’d fallen in love, he told me the truth. I almost didn’t believe him. I couldn’t imagine this