It all came down to how quick thinking she was.
Polina hadn’t known in advance that she would meet the lads down by the stream. On the other hand, where would they be during the floods other than down by the Strizhen?
The murder victim’s knives had been scrupulously counted and measured. That was in the records. And there was the rub. Polina was insinuating that the knife in her possession was from Vorobeichik’s kitchen. What’s more, the maker had confirmed it. So where had she got it? Maybe the knife concerned really had been in the stream and really had pitched up at the feet of young Master Khrobak. At the very moment Polina and Eva were strolling by arm in arm up on the White Bridge.
But it doesn’t happen like that. It just doesn’t.
Or maybe Polina didn’t have the right knife, afte
