The snow stretched in an immaculately white blanket all the way down Fatherland Hill. Yuri and his brother, Yegor, had named the slope in celebration of its being the finest sledding hill in all of the Soviet Union. After crowding onto a sled that they had fashioned themselves out of discarded wood and metal, they pushed off down the steep slope. Yegor was in the front and Yuri in the back.

For Yuri, it was like being launched into a fairyland. The crystalline snow swirled about them as they hurtled down toward the farmhouses along Lake Niznije. It was like flying, and Yuri yelled with delight.

As they streaked toward the main road, they saw a sleigh coming from town pulled by two horses as white as the snow. As their paths drew closer, Yuri could hear the sleigh bells jangle in time with the horses’canter. It got louder and louder until Yuri was yanked from his favorite dream. The jangling wasn’t sleigh bells, it was the phone.

Sitting up suddenly, Yuri nearly fainted. He steadied himself and leaned over so his head was between his knees. When he felt normal, he slowly sat up. The dizziness had disappeared, but the phone was still insistently ringing.

Yuri got up on slightly unsteady legs and headed for the kitchen. He’d fallen asleep on the sofa, and a quick glance at his watch suggested he’d slept soundly for more than four hours. Snatching the phone from its cradle, he found that his voice was hoarse and that he had to clear his throat.

“This is Gordon Strickland calling. I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Davydov, but there’s been a problem that you should know about.”

Yuri rubbed his forehead while his sleepy mind wrestled with the name Strickland. He knew he’d heard it, but he couldn’t remember in what context. Then, with a start, he remembered. It was the funeral home that he had arranged to take Connie.

“What kind of problem?” Yuri asked. His mind fought through the fog of sleep. He didn’t like the sound of “problem.”

“Something very irregular has happened,” Gordon continued. “Not long after your poor deceased wife arrived here at our facility, three men appeared demanding to see her body and take samples.”

“What kind of samples?” Yuri demanded.

“Body fluids for analysis,” Gordon said. “I want to apologize for this whole affair and for not calling you immediately and asking your permission. Unfortunately, it all happened so quickly. They were authorized by the chief medical examiner, but now, after the fact, I’m confused as to the legality of it. You might consider retaining counsel. You could possibly have grounds for a big award from the city.”

“But I don’t understand,” Yuri said. “My wife wasn’t autopsied.”