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“You know who they were?”
“We think so.”
“Grishin’s Black Guard. And the reason was clearly retribution. The shutdown of Komarov’s propaganda broadcasts.”
“They may pay for that. The boss has a lot of clout.”
“The key lies in the commercial TV companies. Their reporters should have a word with a couple of senior generals of the militia. Ask if they have any intention of interviewing Colonel Grishin concerning widespread rumors, etc., etc.”
“They’d better have some proof.”
“That’s what newshounds are for. They sniff, they dig. Can you get in touch with the boss?”
“If I have to.”
“Why not put it to him?”
His next call was to the national newspaper Izvestia.
“Newsroom.”
Monk affected a gruff accent.
“Get me senior reporter Repin.”
“Who is this?”
“Tell him General of the Army Nikolai Nikolayev needs to speak to him urgently. He will remember.”
Repin was the one who had done the interview in the Frunze Officers’ Club. He came on the line.
“Yes, General. Repin here.”
“This is not General Nikolayev,” said Monk. “The general is dead. He was murdered last night.”
“What? Who are you?”
“Just a former tank man.”
“How do you know?”
“Never mind. Do you know where he lived?”
“No.”
“He had a house just off the Minsk Highway. Near the village of Kobyakovo. Why not take a photographer and get the hell out there? Ask for Inspector Novikov.”
He put the phone down. The other major newspaper was Pravda, the former organ of the Communist Party, which politically supported the renascent neo-Communist Socialist Union Party. But to prove its new non-Communist credentials the party had been trying to woo the Orthodox Church. Monk had studied the paper enough to have memorized the name of the chief crime reporter.
“Put me through to Mr. Pamfilov, please.”
“He’s out of the office right now.”
Reasonable. He was almost certainly up at Kutuzovsky Prospekt with the rest of the press pack clamoring for details of the attack on Petrovsky’s flat.
“He has a mobile?”
“Of course. But I can’t give you the number. Can he call you back?”
“We think so.”
“Grishin’s Black Guard. And the reason was clearly retribution. The shutdown of Komarov’s propaganda broadcasts.”
“They may pay for that. The boss has a lot of clout.”
“The key lies in the commercial TV companies. Their reporters should have a word with a couple of senior generals of the militia. Ask if they have any intention of interviewing Colonel Grishin concerning widespread rumors, etc., etc.”
“They’d better have some proof.”
“That’s what newshounds are for. They sniff, they dig. Can you get in touch with the boss?”
“If I have to.”
“Why not put it to him?”
His next call was to the national newspaper Izvestia.
“Newsroom.”
Monk affected a gruff accent.
“Get me senior reporter Repin.”
“Who is this?”
“Tell him General of the Army Nikolai Nikolayev needs to speak to him urgently. He will remember.”
Repin was the one who had done the interview in the Frunze Officers’ Club. He came on the line.
“Yes, General. Repin here.”
“This is not General Nikolayev,” said Monk. “The general is dead. He was murdered last night.”
“What? Who are you?”
“Just a former tank man.”
“How do you know?”
“Never mind. Do you know where he lived?”
“No.”
“He had a house just off the Minsk Highway. Near the village of Kobyakovo. Why not take a photographer and get the hell out there? Ask for Inspector Novikov.”
He put the phone down. The other major newspaper was Pravda, the former organ of the Communist Party, which politically supported the renascent neo-Communist Socialist Union Party. But to prove its new non-Communist credentials the party had been trying to woo the Orthodox Church. Monk had studied the paper enough to have memorized the name of the chief crime reporter.
“Put me through to Mr. Pamfilov, please.”
“He’s out of the office right now.”
Reasonable. He was almost certainly up at Kutuzovsky Prospekt with the rest of the press pack clamoring for details of the attack on Petrovsky’s flat.
“He has a mobile?”
“Of course. But I can’t give you the number. Can he call you back?”
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