Diamond wanted this to seem like a social call. He’d even thought about letting Ivan know in advance, but decided against that. Control freaks always change arrangements to suit themselves. He decided a surprise visit at about eight in the evening was best.
The man wearing eye-shadow who answered said he was sorry but Mr. Bogdanov had made it crystal clear that he wasn’t at home to visitors tonight.
‘It’s all right,’ Diamond said. ‘I’m family.’
Well, he was — to his sister Jean in Liverpool.
Quite a few flights of stairs to the top flat. What a good thing it was, Diamond thought, that Ivan had only a violin to lug up there. A double-bass would have put him at risk of a coronary.
It was dark on the top landing. Diamond couldn’t find a bell. He knocked with his knuckles, heard a movement from inside, and was ignored.
‘Ivan?’
No response.
‘This is only Peter Diamond.’ He knocked harder. ‘From the Bath police... Are you all right in there?’
He gave it a few seconds before upping the ante. ‘I know you’re in there.’
He was getting impatient.
‘I don’t want to kick it in unless I have to.’
He heard a safety-chain being slotted in. The door opened a couple of inches. ‘Didn’t they tell you downstairs? I’m not to be disturbed.’
‘Well, it’s happened, so you might as well see me.’
‘What do you want?’
‘Just a few minutes of your time. I’m not here officially. May I come in?’
‘About what?’
Some flattery was wanted here. ‘I’m looking for some expert advice.’
‘From me?’
‘Who else? No one is better placed to help me.’
After some hesitation: ‘Are you alone?’
‘Absolutely.’
Ivan released the chain and admitted him. In a silk dressinggown, pyjamas and leather slippers, he could have been a character out of a Noël Coward play. It seemed right for a flat in Great Pulteney Street.
‘Were you practising?’ Diamond asked.
‘No, but I’m busy.’
They were in a large sitting-room with an Afghan carpet, three-piece suite, music-stand and TV set. A violin in its case lay on one of the armchairs. Some foreign newspapers were scattered over another.
‘Is this what you’re busy at?’ Diamond had spotted a chessboard on a nest of tables, the pieces spread, as if in mid-game.
‘It’s a match that was played many years ago between two grand masters you won’t have heard of,’ Ivan said.
‘Try me.’
After a beat a different note entered his voice. ‘Do you play?’
‘To a modest level. Care for a game?’
‘I thought you were here for advice.’
‘We could talk as we play.’
‘All right.’ Ivan didn’t need any more persuading. He crossed to a sideboard, picked up a box and another board. Then he reached under the unfinished game and drew out a second table. He opened the board. ‘You can be white.’
‘I’d rather draw for it.’
‘Very well.’ Ivan picked out two pawns, enclosed them in his hands behind his back and allowed Diamond to make the choice.
White.
Red and white rather than the more usual black and white, the pieces were housed in a velvet-lined box.
‘These look special,’ Diamond said as they started setting up.
‘Ivory.’
‘The red as well?’
‘Stained.’
‘It’s a magnificent set.’
‘This is the Staunton design everyone has. I could show you better.’
‘You trade in them, don’t you?’
Ivan shrugged. ‘Only as a sideline.’
‘But they’re not antique.’
‘No,’ Ivan said. ‘Are you going to start?’
Diamond pushed his king’s bishop’s pawn forward two squares.
‘Bold.’ In the offhand manner born of long experience Ivan advanced his king’s pawn two squares.
Diamond made an early pause in the play. ‘You’re safe with me as someone who enjoys the game, but isn’t ivory banned these days?’
‘It’s not elephant. It’s the ethical alternative, mammoth ivory, from northern Siberia.’
Hey ho, Diamond thought, this sounds familiar. ‘Perfectly legal, then.’
‘It’s down to global warming. More and more skeletons are being uncovered each year as the tundra melts.’
‘So you still have contact with the old country?’ Diamond nudged his king’s bishop’s pawn one square forward.
‘You must be bluffing,’ Ivan said.
‘Not at all.’
‘Then I’ve got you checkmate in two.’ He slid his queen on the diagonal as far as it would go. There was no escape. Diamond’s king was trapped. Ivan gave him a glare worthy of the customs hall at Heathrow. ‘Fool’s mate, supposedly, but I believe you’re making a fool of me.’
‘It’s not in my interest to do that.’ Diamond said. ‘Well done. I’d offer you another game, but it wouldn’t last much longer. How much do you charge for these?’
‘The going rate for a Staunton set is ten thousand dollars, something over six thousand pounds sterling.’
‘And you said you have other designs?’
‘Knights on horseback and so on. They cost rather more. But I don’t think you came here to buy.’
‘How does it work? Are the sets carved in Russia?’
‘Why are you so interested?’
‘This is where I need your advice. There may be a connection with the case I’m investigating. An ivory netsuke was found on the victim in Vienna and proved to be mammoth ivory.’
Ivan showed no reaction.
Diamond asked, ‘Do you know anything about the trade in Japanese ornaments?’
‘I don’t deal in them, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ Ivan said.
‘I know you don’t,’ Diamond said, ‘and even if you did, I wouldn’t expect you to tell me. I’m still keen to know where these beautiful chess sets are made.’
‘In Archangel, by a master carver. It’s a business arrangement. I buy from him. I travel with the quartet to some of the great cities of the world and I play a lot of chess. From time to time I am asked about the sets and I will sell at a reasonable profit.’
‘Guilt-free ivory.’
Ivan nodded.
Diamond took a photo from his pocket. ‘This is the netsuke that was found. It’s definitely carved from mammoth ivory. As a connoisseur of these things—’
‘Not of netsuke. I don’t trade in netsuke,’ Ivan interrupted him.
‘That isn’t what I meant. You appreciate Japanese culture.’
He flushed deeply. ‘No more than the next man.’
‘I was told you like to visit the geisha houses when in Japan.’
‘Who told you that?’ Ivan said in a clipped, angry tone.
‘I forget,’ Diamond said. ‘Must have been one of the quartet. It’s the truth, isn’t it?’
‘What if I do?’
‘Nothing to be ashamed of,’ Diamond went on. ‘Traditional Japanese dancing and music and the famous tea ceremony. All highly respectable, isn’t it? Highly expensive, too.’
‘The way I choose to spend my time and money is no concern of yours,’ Ivan said. ‘I have a long-standing interest in the geisha. As a musician, I have studied the shamisen, the three-stringed instrument they play with the plectrum.’
‘So the music is the pull, and not the young ladies?’
If looks could kill, Diamond would have been ashes ready for scattering. ‘Geisha is an aesthetic experience. This isn’t some catchpenny tourist attraction. I go to the genuine okiya in the geisha district in Kyoto.’
‘Don’t get me wrong, Ivan. I’m not accusing you of anything. It’s your advice I came for. The geishas wear traditional dress, I’m told, and this would surely include at least one netsuke on the sash.’