GRAVE MATTER

TWELVE

Elena Koshka did not believe that her ex-husband Igor Akinfeev committed suicide. However, when Akinfeev and his wife Elena divorced five years ago, he was ordered to pay her up to £200 million, making it the costliest marriage split in British legal history.

She lives in Kensington, West London, in a penthouse overlooking Hyde Park on the first floor of a Georgian row that has probably featured in every BBC period drama since television began. I, half expect to see horse-drawn carriages outside, and women are parading in hats.

Elena isn't wearing a hat. Instead, her short blonde hair is off in her face with a headband and clad in black spandex shorts, a white sports bra, and a light blue T-shirt with a looping neckline.

A gym membership card dangles from a bulky set of keys that must help burn calories simply by being lugged around.

"Excuse me, Miss Koshka. Do you have a moment?"

"Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying."

"It's about your ex-husband, Igor Akinfeev."

"I'm late for a spin class, and I don't talk to the press."

"I'm not a journalist."

"Then who are you?"

"My name is Justin Grave."

Her eyes narrowed at the mention of my name. Even after all these years, the reaction was nearly always the same when I met someone for the first time.

She ushered me inside.

The flat has polished wooden floors, tasteful furniture and ceilings that seem higher than the clouds outside.

There are women's touches everywhere, from the throw cushions in Italian prints to the dried floral arrangements.

My eyes scan the room and fall upon a birthday invitation propped beside the phone. 'Elena' is invited to a cocktail party by her friend Kayla  Zelenyy,   who is turning fifty.

Elena tosses her gym bag on the sofa and looks at her watch, stainless steel, sporty number. She won't make her spin class. Instead, she flops into an armchair, looking irritated. Her breasts don't move. I wonder if they're real. Then, as if reading my mind, she straightens her shoulders.

"Why are you so interested in my ex-husband?"

"I don't think it was suicide."

"And why does that concern you?"

"I just want to be sure."

Her eyes are full of a gentle curiosity as I explain my involvement with Robbie Chase and how I went to Russia with Amber. Elena props her toned legs on the coffee table, showing what miles on the treadmill can do for a woman.

"They were business partners."

"They were more than that," she replies, "along with Alexi Zelenyy, they were like The Three Musketeers."

"When did you last see your ex-husband?"

"The day before he died."

"How did he seem?"

"Fine."

"He wasn't concerned or worried about anything?"

"He had suffered from depression after the loss of a high-profile court case a few years back, and he had talked about suicide to my son and his bodyguard."

"But you still don't think he committed suicide?"

She shook her head, "No, he was looking forward to leaving shortly for a holiday in Israel."

"How long were you married for?"

"We were separated after three years, but didn't divorce until seventeen years later."

"Why is that?"

"He had a 21-year affair with Olga King, and I wouldn't grant a divorce," she replies, "I weren't going to let him off that easily."

"What was your meeting with your husband about?"

"Over the education of our daughter."

"And how did that go?"

"He gave me no indication he would take his life, if that is what you mean, but he did say it was a challenging time for him."

"Did he explain what he meant by that?"

"He told me he had consulted two psychiatrists, an osteopath, a private doctor and his GP. He had refused therapy and counselling, and that suicide would never be an option because he was Russian Orthodox and very religious."

Elena stands and goes to the bedroom. "Do you mind if I get changed?"

"Not at all."

She leaves the door open and removed her T-shirt and bra. There are muscles on her back like flat stones beneath her skin. Her black spandex shorts slide down her legs, but I can't see what replaces them; the bed and the angle defeat me.

She returns to the lounge dressed in cream slacks and a cashmere sweater, tossing her tiny shorts and bra on her gym bag.

"What were we talking about?"

"About your husband's religious beliefs."

"His religion was significant to him, as were his family. He told me that his enemies in Russia were trying to destroy him and make him homeless. I did not take that as being a threat to his life, but his wealth. He knew he would never be left alone by them in terms of financial pressure."

"How did you feel when you heard that he had killed himself?"

"I was shocked. I didn't expect Igor to commit suicide."

"Why not?"

"Because he would have contacted me if it had been pre-meditated."