“Fine. That’s just what I’ll do, answer each one. Whether you like it or not. You’ll have your answer. Especially to the question about Lilia Vorobeichik. And about who killed her. Let’s begin there, shall we? Or are you going to choose which one? After all, you must have a long list.”
“I haven’t got a list. I keep it all in my head.”
I maintained my composure and, in order to demonstrate to just what extent, went out into the kitchen, lit a gas burner and put the kettle on.
Laevskaya spoke quietly from the other room.
“Get some challah out of the cupboard. It’s fresh. With poppy seeds. Bring it in, please. I’d really like something to eat.”
A second later Laevskaya herself came into the kitchen, took the plaited loaf and licked the seeds off the crust.
“I have no patience. I love po
