Who killed Lucy Setton? And why? I walked down the corridor towards my room in the University of Truth and Justice, remembering Lucy's angelic demeanor, her bizarre incapacity to comprehend money, her soft warm body… I was overcome by the memory of walking down this same corridor with Lucy just days before, laughing and idly talking as we set out on our ill-fated quest for vegetables, from which she had never returned. We had lost our vegetables and her death had brought no closure. I was still reeling from Steele's revelations. Why had Lucy changed her mind in the taxi with Steele and decided to go to the train station? Who had hired her at the University of Truth and Justice? How was it possible that she had no past? And who had killed her?
I was assailed by more than just questions as I opened my door: out of the corner of my eye, I saw a dark shape hurtling towards me. I ducked out of the way but not fast enough. A heavy object struck my shoulder and then smashed onto the floor in a crystalline clangour of shattering glass. I cried out in pain and turned towards my opponent. The lights went on and I was looking into the concerned faces of Marek, the big blond barman and pretty Annichka from the reception desk.
"What are you doing here? We thought you had left Prague already!" Marek and Annichka exclaimed.
"You mean you were trying to kill someone else?" I asked weakly, rubbing my bruised shoulder. "Or just practising your pitching? You nearly took my head off."
"I wanted to," Marek said with conviction. "Whoever raped and murdered Lucy deserves to die horribly."
"What are you talking about? Whom were you trying to get?"
"The murderer, of course."
"How did you know he would be here?"
Their faces were as confused as mine. "You told us."
"I did?"
Annichka nodded eagerly. "You called me half an hour ago. You sounded really excited. You said you knew who had killed Lucy and that he was going to go to your room to get some vital evidence. And you told me to get someone to wait here till the door opened. Whoever opened the door would be the murderer. You said to make sure to hurt him first because he would be very dangerous. So I ran up to the bar and got Marek. And he brought a bottle of vodka to throw."
"Like a grenade," Marek confirmed. "So it would look like an accident."
"Like the vodka bottle just spontaneously exploded?" I asked kindly. Marek looked blank. "Never mind. Annichka, why did you think it was me?"
"Well, he said he was you. And he knew my name. And he sounded Amerikan."
"A distinctive accent. Guess that rules out a lot of people," I said, exasperated. But then I saw her brimming eyes and sighed. "Don't cry, dear, I know you meant well. And it would have been lovely if Lucy's murderer were lying here right now in a pool of blood and vodka. Instead I've got a sore shoulder and we don't even have anything to drink."
Marek extracted another bottle from his well-worn leather jacket and held it out to me.
"Didn't trust your aim, huh?" I took a long gulp of vodka. The slow hot trail down my gullet took my attention away from my throbbing shoulder. "Here, Annichka, you'd better have some too. You're shaking. Let's get away from this broken glass. That's better. Now let's try to figure out what is going on here."
"Maybe I was speaking to Lucy's murderer!" Annichka's voice went squeaky with excitement.
"Or an accomplice. In any event we know they wanted to kill me. Or to cause me seriously bodily harm."
"Why would they want to do that?" Annichka asked, puzzled. I blessed her silently. "What makes you dangerous?"
"I wish I knew. What a strange story about wanting to retrieve vital evidence from this room."
"Maybe we should search the room," Marek suggested.
I shrugged. "Sure. I have to pack anyway."
Embarrassingly, it was little Annichka who found the panties as Marek and I messed around through my assorted clutter. She cleared her throat noisily and held them up for our inspection: a pair of white cotton panties, speckled at the top and sides with faded brown stains. "I found these in your bed," Annichka said reproachfully. "Buried under the sheets and blankets."
"Oh my God. The missing panties." My head felt oddly light. I felt rather than saw Marek reach over to catch me as I fainted. The next thing I felt was the vodka bottle being forced between my lips and teeth like a cold glass nipple. I coughed and spluttered and blinked open my eyes.
"Are those Lucy's panties?" Marek asked, wide-eyed. "What are they doing in your bed?"
"Good questions." I nodded woozily. "I have a couple more myself. Are those blood stains on the panties? Who planted the panties in my bed?"
"It's normal for blood to get onto panties," Annichka said boastfully. I remembered with an inexplicable pang that she was just sixteen.
I shook my head. "Lucy's panties were always spotless."
"How do you know?" Annichka asked severely.
"Go check for yourself," I replied evasively. "You have a master key, don't you? Lucy's room is right next door."
Annichka shook her head. "But all her stuff is gone. They took it away this morning."
"The Amerikan Embassy?"
"No, someone came from New York."
"From New York?" I repeated stupidly.
"One of Mr. Xox's people. Professor Masaryk came down to the reception desk with this guy and told me to open Lucy's room for him.
"What did he look like?"
"He was really tall and thin and kind of hunched over. I didn't really see his face properly because he was wearing this ugly hat but his voice was strange. He was speaking through his nose and it kept cracking."
"Was he Amerikan?"
"Nooo…" Annichka sounded unsure. "I don't know. He was nice, though. He thanked me and patted me on my head. Oh, and he gave me his card also for the Amerikan embassy if they had any questions about Lucy's things. Here…" Annichka dug into her jeans. I noticed that they fit her very nicely. She pulled out a card and gave it to me.
"No first name. Dr. Koroviev. Exponential Investments. That's Xox's company. Why would they…" I blew out a long slow sigh. The memory of Xox's joyous rutting with Lucy in the room next door came vividly back to mind. Was Xox trying to protect himself? From what? Had Lucy been blackmailing him? "Do you guys know if Xox is married, by any chance?"
Marek and Annichka looked at each other in bewilderment and shook their heads. Annichka was still clutching her discovery. I felt guilty for getting these two involved. Did fingerprints transfer to panties? Suddenly a thought flared across my mind. "Annichka," I said urgently. "Show me exactly where you found those. No wait a moment." I sprinted across the room to the wash basin and watched in the mirror as Annichka bent over the bed, her slim body obscuring my view. The rocket in my mind exploded into spectacular fireworks. "Rasputin!" I screamed. "Fucking Rasputin planted them!"
Gingerly avoiding the broken glass by the door, we went up to the bar and Marek made us all steaming hot whisky toddies. We turned off the lights and huddled around the fireplace. I watched Annichka's young face glow pink and gold in the flickering light as I began piecing together an explanation.
"Fact one: Lucy was sleeping with Xox." Annichka gasped in surprise. I nodded grimly. "It's true, Annichka. I saw them doing it. Fact two: nobody knows where Lucy came from or how she got her job at the university."
"That's not true," Marek piped up unexpectedly. "I was here when Lucy came to the university. She was wearing a tight white T shirt." He closed his eyes and licked his lips. "Man, she looked good…" Annichka punched his beefy arm hard and swore at him in Czech. Marek reddened. "She had a backpack. It was right by her chair."
"Who interviewed her?"
Marek looked surprised. "Professor Masaryk of course. He was her boss, no?"
I whistled. "Well, isn't that interesting. Let's change Fact two. Professor Masaryk falsely denies knowing how Lucy was hired. Fact Three: Lucy's stuff was taken away by mysterious Dr. Koroviev from New York who works for Xox. Fact Four: Lucy's panties were missing from her body." I nodded at Marek and Annichka. "The police told us. Fact Five: Lucy's panties were planted in my bed by someone who came to visit me… on the night that Lucy disappeared and was probably murdered." My voice faltered as I remembered asking Rasputin about the blood on his hands. "He told me he had an accident at the train station."
"But what was Lucy doing at the train station?" Annichka asked sensibly. I told them about our evening at the wine bar with Steele and about Lucy's peculiar change of plans.
"Maybe your friend Steele did kill her," Marek pointed out. "And just dumped her body. We only have his word that Lucy actually decided not to go home with him and went to the train station instead."
"You're right." I sighed. "Unfortunately, we also only have my word that Rasputin ever came to Prague and that he put those panties in my bed. If that fat detective found out, he would definitely put me in jail and throw away the key…"
"We won't tell him."
"I know," I said gratefully. "But the fact is that someone is trying to make it look like I killed Lucy. First Rasputin plants those panties. Then you get this mysterious phone call saying that vital evidence is hidden in my room, hoping that either you would kill me or that those panties would get found. I've got to figure out what is going on before they come up with something else."
"What are you going to do?" Annichka asked.
"Rasputin said he was going to Berlin. I've got to track him down somehow. Can you hide those panties for me? The blood on them is the only evidence we've got that Rasputin was involved."
"Sure." Annichka giggled. "I'll put them under a pile of my own panties. No one will notice."
"Okay. Just don't wear them or wash them, all right? Lucy was definitely murdered. This may involve some very important people. Like Xox. Or Professor Masaryk." I watched my words sink into their sober young faces. "We all need to be very very careful. Whoever killed Lucy will probably strike again."
I was assailed by more than just questions as I opened my door: out of the corner of my eye, I saw a dark shape hurtling towards me. I ducked out of the way but not fast enough. A heavy object struck my shoulder and then smashed onto the floor in a crystalline clangour of shattering glass. I cried out in pain and turned towards my opponent. The lights went on and I was looking into the concerned faces of Marek, the big blond barman and pretty Annichka from the reception desk.
"What are you doing here? We thought you had left Prague already!" Marek and Annichka exclaimed.
"You mean you were trying to kill someone else?" I asked weakly, rubbing my bruised shoulder. "Or just practising your pitching? You nearly took my head off."
"I wanted to," Marek said with conviction. "Whoever raped and murdered Lucy deserves to die horribly."
"What are you talking about? Whom were you trying to get?"
"The murderer, of course."
"How did you know he would be here?"
Their faces were as confused as mine. "You told us."
"I did?"
Annichka nodded eagerly. "You called me half an hour ago. You sounded really excited. You said you knew who had killed Lucy and that he was going to go to your room to get some vital evidence. And you told me to get someone to wait here till the door opened. Whoever opened the door would be the murderer. You said to make sure to hurt him first because he would be very dangerous. So I ran up to the bar and got Marek. And he brought a bottle of vodka to throw."
"Like a grenade," Marek confirmed. "So it would look like an accident."
"Like the vodka bottle just spontaneously exploded?" I asked kindly. Marek looked blank. "Never mind. Annichka, why did you think it was me?"
"Well, he said he was you. And he knew my name. And he sounded Amerikan."
"A distinctive accent. Guess that rules out a lot of people," I said, exasperated. But then I saw her brimming eyes and sighed. "Don't cry, dear, I know you meant well. And it would have been lovely if Lucy's murderer were lying here right now in a pool of blood and vodka. Instead I've got a sore shoulder and we don't even have anything to drink."
Marek extracted another bottle from his well-worn leather jacket and held it out to me.
"Didn't trust your aim, huh?" I took a long gulp of vodka. The slow hot trail down my gullet took my attention away from my throbbing shoulder. "Here, Annichka, you'd better have some too. You're shaking. Let's get away from this broken glass. That's better. Now let's try to figure out what is going on here."
"Maybe I was speaking to Lucy's murderer!" Annichka's voice went squeaky with excitement.
"Or an accomplice. In any event we know they wanted to kill me. Or to cause me seriously bodily harm."
"Why would they want to do that?" Annichka asked, puzzled. I blessed her silently. "What makes you dangerous?"
"I wish I knew. What a strange story about wanting to retrieve vital evidence from this room."
"Maybe we should search the room," Marek suggested.
I shrugged. "Sure. I have to pack anyway."
Embarrassingly, it was little Annichka who found the panties as Marek and I messed around through my assorted clutter. She cleared her throat noisily and held them up for our inspection: a pair of white cotton panties, speckled at the top and sides with faded brown stains. "I found these in your bed," Annichka said reproachfully. "Buried under the sheets and blankets."
"Oh my God. The missing panties." My head felt oddly light. I felt rather than saw Marek reach over to catch me as I fainted. The next thing I felt was the vodka bottle being forced between my lips and teeth like a cold glass nipple. I coughed and spluttered and blinked open my eyes.
"Are those Lucy's panties?" Marek asked, wide-eyed. "What are they doing in your bed?"
"Good questions." I nodded woozily. "I have a couple more myself. Are those blood stains on the panties? Who planted the panties in my bed?"
"It's normal for blood to get onto panties," Annichka said boastfully. I remembered with an inexplicable pang that she was just sixteen.
I shook my head. "Lucy's panties were always spotless."
"How do you know?" Annichka asked severely.
"Go check for yourself," I replied evasively. "You have a master key, don't you? Lucy's room is right next door."
Annichka shook her head. "But all her stuff is gone. They took it away this morning."
"The Amerikan Embassy?"
"No, someone came from New York."
"From New York?" I repeated stupidly.
"One of Mr. Xox's people. Professor Masaryk came down to the reception desk with this guy and told me to open Lucy's room for him.
"What did he look like?"
"He was really tall and thin and kind of hunched over. I didn't really see his face properly because he was wearing this ugly hat but his voice was strange. He was speaking through his nose and it kept cracking."
"Was he Amerikan?"
"Nooo…" Annichka sounded unsure. "I don't know. He was nice, though. He thanked me and patted me on my head. Oh, and he gave me his card also for the Amerikan embassy if they had any questions about Lucy's things. Here…" Annichka dug into her jeans. I noticed that they fit her very nicely. She pulled out a card and gave it to me.
"No first name. Dr. Koroviev. Exponential Investments. That's Xox's company. Why would they…" I blew out a long slow sigh. The memory of Xox's joyous rutting with Lucy in the room next door came vividly back to mind. Was Xox trying to protect himself? From what? Had Lucy been blackmailing him? "Do you guys know if Xox is married, by any chance?"
Marek and Annichka looked at each other in bewilderment and shook their heads. Annichka was still clutching her discovery. I felt guilty for getting these two involved. Did fingerprints transfer to panties? Suddenly a thought flared across my mind. "Annichka," I said urgently. "Show me exactly where you found those. No wait a moment." I sprinted across the room to the wash basin and watched in the mirror as Annichka bent over the bed, her slim body obscuring my view. The rocket in my mind exploded into spectacular fireworks. "Rasputin!" I screamed. "Fucking Rasputin planted them!"
Gingerly avoiding the broken glass by the door, we went up to the bar and Marek made us all steaming hot whisky toddies. We turned off the lights and huddled around the fireplace. I watched Annichka's young face glow pink and gold in the flickering light as I began piecing together an explanation.
"Fact one: Lucy was sleeping with Xox." Annichka gasped in surprise. I nodded grimly. "It's true, Annichka. I saw them doing it. Fact two: nobody knows where Lucy came from or how she got her job at the university."
"That's not true," Marek piped up unexpectedly. "I was here when Lucy came to the university. She was wearing a tight white T shirt." He closed his eyes and licked his lips. "Man, she looked good…" Annichka punched his beefy arm hard and swore at him in Czech. Marek reddened. "She had a backpack. It was right by her chair."
"Who interviewed her?"
Marek looked surprised. "Professor Masaryk of course. He was her boss, no?"
I whistled. "Well, isn't that interesting. Let's change Fact two. Professor Masaryk falsely denies knowing how Lucy was hired. Fact Three: Lucy's stuff was taken away by mysterious Dr. Koroviev from New York who works for Xox. Fact Four: Lucy's panties were missing from her body." I nodded at Marek and Annichka. "The police told us. Fact Five: Lucy's panties were planted in my bed by someone who came to visit me… on the night that Lucy disappeared and was probably murdered." My voice faltered as I remembered asking Rasputin about the blood on his hands. "He told me he had an accident at the train station."
"But what was Lucy doing at the train station?" Annichka asked sensibly. I told them about our evening at the wine bar with Steele and about Lucy's peculiar change of plans.
"Maybe your friend Steele did kill her," Marek pointed out. "And just dumped her body. We only have his word that Lucy actually decided not to go home with him and went to the train station instead."
"You're right." I sighed. "Unfortunately, we also only have my word that Rasputin ever came to Prague and that he put those panties in my bed. If that fat detective found out, he would definitely put me in jail and throw away the key…"
"We won't tell him."
"I know," I said gratefully. "But the fact is that someone is trying to make it look like I killed Lucy. First Rasputin plants those panties. Then you get this mysterious phone call saying that vital evidence is hidden in my room, hoping that either you would kill me or that those panties would get found. I've got to figure out what is going on before they come up with something else."
"What are you going to do?" Annichka asked.
"Rasputin said he was going to Berlin. I've got to track him down somehow. Can you hide those panties for me? The blood on them is the only evidence we've got that Rasputin was involved."
"Sure." Annichka giggled. "I'll put them under a pile of my own panties. No one will notice."
"Okay. Just don't wear them or wash them, all right? Lucy was definitely murdered. This may involve some very important people. Like Xox. Or Professor Masaryk." I watched my words sink into their sober young faces. "We all need to be very very careful. Whoever killed Lucy will probably strike again."
