No Time for Heroes by Brian Freemantle Page A

decided the man must have been an impressive judge. Until that moment, the make of the murder weapon and the fact that the bullets had been of Russian manufacture had not been released. Ross made the prepared announcement, to guarantee the headlines, waving down the eruption of questions that followed. Once again he quickly regained command. Because the crime appeared to have those Russian links as well as to involve a Russian diplomat, it had been decided to invite Russian representation, just as Russia had invited the FBI involvement in an earlier case with which they were all familiar. As the Director of the FBI, he sincerely hoped Moscow would accept the offer. There were essential enquiries to be made in Moscow, but a Russian investigator would also be welcome in the United States and shown every assistance, just as William Cowley had been given all possible help when he had gone to Moscow.
    The snowstorm of questions ranged over every possible theory, speculation and rumour, to hardly any of which they provided positive answers. The most concerted query revolved, in every conceivable way and manner, around the Mafia. Ross acknowledged there was a Mafia, even by that title, in Russia, but refused to postulate any connection yet with organised crime in either America or Sicily. They did not yet know why a Swiss financier had travelled from Geneva to meet a Russian attaché: that was one of the questions a Russian investigation might answer.
    When his turn came to be questioned, Cowley accepted the circumstances were coincidental to the earlier Moscow case. He had enjoyed working there, and was sure the level and extent of the co-operation he’d known then could be repeated in this case were he to be reunited with Dimitri Danilov. Here Cowley looked sideways, to Ross, and said he had officially praised the Russian’s ability in written reports to the Director, at the conclusion of the earlier murder enquiry. If there were no Russian participation the case might be impossible to solve. He was sure the Russian authorities did not wish the investigation to fail and would do whatever they could to prevent that happening.
    Cowley’s only potential awkwardness came with a series of persistent questions about whether he thought an accredited diplomat at a foreign embassy was involved in criminal activities. Cowley’s only reply, which echoed hollowly when he gave it, was that he had no reason to connect Petr Serov with any crime. The Director repeated it, for emphasis. That denial sounded hollow, too.
    Back in the anteroom, afterwards, Rafferty said: ‘The only way left to get Danilov here if that fails is to send in a SWAT team to kidnap him!’
    â€˜If they do respond but send a stooge, I guess we’ve got part of our answer, about collusion,’ said Ross, reflectively.
    â€˜Then where are we?’ asked Cowley.
    â€˜The same place as we are at the moment,’ said the Director. ‘Nowhere.’
    The media coverage in Moscow was restricted in comparison to Washington only by the limitations of television channels and newspapers. The television at the Kirovskaya apartment faded halfway through the item, with Danilov’s face filling the screen, sending Olga into a screaming rage. The following morning Danilov stopped and bought all the papers, as he had when the murder of Serov occurred; on this occasion he was featured on all the front pages. He stored them in the boot, for Olga to read that night. When he got to Petrovka there were no mockery-intended copies on his cluttered desk. He’d been there an hour when the summons came from Metkin.
    â€˜You have been ordered to the Interior Ministry,’ announced the Director. ‘We both have.’ The man stopped, rehearsing what he had to say. ‘Leonid Lapinsk committed suicide last night. Shot himself with his service revolver, which he hadn’t surrendered.’ Another pause. ‘Through the mouth: blew his head