The Moscow Affair by Nancy Boyarsky

Author:Nancy Boyarsky
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery;thriller;suspense;women sleuths;private investigator;detective;Moscow;Russia;ukraine;los angeles;espionage;spy;mi6;mistaken identity;kidnapping;murder;river cruise;Volga
Publisher: Light Messages Publishing
Published: 2021-05-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Nicole ran down three flights of stairs. When she reached the hotel’s second-floor landing, she heard a door above slam shut and heavy footsteps hurrying down. The policeman must have arrived back in time to see her leave and was coming after her. It occurred to her that if he’d called for backup, she might emerge onto the street and find the police waiting for her there. Instead of continuing down, she opened the door to the second floor and silently closed it behind her.

At the end of a long corridor, she spotted a lit green-and-white sign with a word in Cyrillic that she took to mean exit. Without pausing, she ran for the door nearest the sign. It opened onto a dimly lit stairwell. Judging by the dust and spiderwebs, these stairs had fallen out of use long ago, perhaps when the elevators were installed. They were constructed of wooden slats, several broken or missing. The first step creaked and sunk a bit as she put her weight on it, which made her slow down and proceed with caution.

At the bottom, she opened the door and found herself in a large room. Above a door in the corner was another exit sign. The room was filled with clothing racks. The one nearest the exit was jammed with coats, jackets, and other apparel that appeared to belong to the help. The others were filled with hotel uniforms—blue maid’s dresses and matching coveralls for maintenance workers. She quickly went through the coat rack, looking for something to change her appearance as well as protect her from the cold night air. She found a brown, full-length coat with a fleece lining that looked as if it would do the job. After putting it on, she turned to look in a large, free-standing mirror. The coat was several sizes too big and visibly frayed on the sleeve cuffs and around the collar. She turned away from the mirror, reminding herself this was no time for vanity. She hung the sweatshirt hoodie she’d been wearing where the coat had been before something occurred to her. Her lightweight jacket was no substitute for this warm coat. Whoever owned it was going to be cold and might not have money for new outerwear. She got out her wallet and, after a quick calculation, stuffed a 5,000 ruble note into the sweatshirt pocket. This taken care of, she headed for the exit.

Outside, she found herself in an alley populated with overflowing trash bins that gave off a powerful smell, as if the garbage hadn’t been picked up in weeks. She followed the alley for several blocks, passing more overfilled garbage containers before exiting onto a boulevard in a business area. Three- and four-story buildings lined the street with shops and restaurants at ground level and what looked like offices above. Nearing the end of rush hour, there was plenty of foot traffic.

She took a deep breath to calm herself and slowed her pace, hoping to fit in with the flow of pedestrians.

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