That was strange. Why would he worry what her neighbors thought? They would already assume she had turned informer after Peter’s death in order to escape arrest herself. Maybe that was what Yuri wanted to talk to her about; perhaps he was going to ask her to inform on her neighbors or work colleagues. She would refuse; she had long ago decided she would never inform on anyone.

Yuri pulled up in a dark road with a park on one side, warehouses on the other, and lit a cigarette. The name on the packet was Belomorkanal, a brand created to commemorate the construction of a canal linking the White Sea to the Baltic. He offered her one as an afterthought, but she shook her head.

“I wanted to tell you how sorry I was about your husband,” he began. “I never met him personally but I know he had a spotless record and I can’t understand why the troika reached the decision they did.”

He drew deeply on his cigarette and Maria turned her head. The harsh smell of smoke in the enclosed space was nauseating.

“I found out that he is buried in the Preobrazhenskoe Cemetery. There is a mass grave in the southeast corner. At least you can go there to pay your respects.”

Maria closed her eyes so he wouldn’t see how much that information meant to her. “Thank you,” she said.

“You must be wondering why I brought you here,” he continued, and she waited. “It’s not official business. I need your help, as it turns out. Annushka has disappeared with my son and I can’t find them. I thought, with your contacts, you might have some idea where she has gone.”

Maria frowned. “I haven’t seen Annushka since I visited your apartment last October. We used to meet in the bread line but my daughter fetches our bread now. I don’t know how I can help.”

“And yet . . . with your files of missing people, I thought perhaps you might find a way. Her parents and her brother say they haven’t heard from her, but she must be somewhere.”

Maria chose her words carefully. “Did anything happen before she left?”

He shrugged, and wound down the window to throw the cigarette butt into the road. A blast of icy air swirled in. “We had a row, but all couples row. You and Peter must have rowed.”

Maria didn’t tell him that they never had, not once in nineteen years. When they disagreed, they talked about it until they reached a solution. “I’ll ask around and see if I can discover anything,” she promised. “But don’t get your hopes up. As I said, it’s a long time since I’ve seen her.”