He would be the one on the far side of the table, Vishinsky. He was watching me in silence, his eyes smouldering with rage, his long narrow face paler, perhaps, than normal: this was my impression. His hair was cut en brosse, and shone with oil; his mouth was a bloodless slash across the lower part of his face, and I found myself thinking that his smile, if ever it came, would bear semblance to the look of a predator on sighting prey. He was wearing a perfectly cut dinner jacket – they all were, the men at the table – and the bow was black velvet, the corner of the handkerchief in his breast pocket monogrammed. Then at last he moved, with just a jerk of his head, and two of the bodyguards closed in on me, one of them frisking me, and thoroughly.

'Where is your gun?' This from Vishinsky.

'I don't carry one.'

'Why not?' His eyes were fixed on me now with a reptilian stare: he'd got the rage out of his system.

'It's not the way I do business. Call me a peaceful trader.'

'You're lying. There's no such thing in Moscow.'

'There's a first time for everything.'

The man outside was still moaning, and Vishinsky looked at one of the guards. 'Go outside and take over. Tell him I want to see him at nine o'clock in the morning, unarmed.'

Looking back to me: 'What did you do to him?'

'Nothing very much.'

'He sounds in a lot of pain.'

'He's just winded.'

'Why did you do that to him?' Vishinsky's voice was suddenly very quiet. 'What could have made you even contemplate such a thing, with one of my bodyguards?'

'I asked him to bring a note in for you. He refused.'

'You haven't answered my question.'

At the edge of my vision I was taking in what I could of the other people in the room. Their heads turned to look at Vishinsky when he spoke, to look at me when I answered. They reminded me of umpires at Wimbledon.

'I thought I had,' I told him.

By now I was having to keep the impatience out of my tone. He'd decided to treat me like a schoolboy, possibly for the benefit of the other three men. But there was no point in getting impatient; the thing was to leave here with what I'd come here for: access for Balalaika.

'No,' Vishinsky said. 'You weren't listening. I asked you what made you even contemplate such a thing, with one of my bodyguards.'

'I came here tonight to do business with you. I don't like being obstructed by minions.'

'And do you think I like being insulted?'

'That's just the way you're taking it. I heard you were a businessman, and I came here to talk business. When do we start?'

He left his stare on me, looking for something in my eyes: apprehension. I don't suppose he ever looked into any man's eyes without seeing it. Apprehension or fear. I didn't think the bodyguard would go to see Vishinsky tomorrow; by nine o'clock in the morning I thought he would probably be in St Petersberg, or out of the country; even with a neck that thick he must have a modicum of sense.

'I do business in my office,' Vishinsky said. 'Not in gaming rooms.'

'It's rather urgent. The shipment just came in, and I want to make a deal as soon as I can.'

'You don't listen, you see. I told you I don't do business in gaming rooms.'

'As a businessman, you'll see that this can't wait, when I tell you about the pelts, and the price.'

In a moment, 'Who told you I was a businessman?'

'No one in particular. It's your reputation.'

'Reputations are built on what people say. I want to know who said that. I want to know who said anything at all about me.

I decided not to use Mitzi Piatilova's name after all. She was perfectly right: this man was dangerous, and might take it out on her if he objected to anything I said – he'd already objected to what I'd done. In any case I hadn't intended to use the Boris thing as my reason for coming here: the proposal of a deal worth only fifty thousand dollars would only enrage him again, and I needed to use him.

'I can't remember who told me about you,' I said. 'You're quite famous, as I'm sure you know. Everyone respects the Cougar.'

'Except you.'

'I have the greatest respect for you, or I wouldn't have come here.' The cigar smoke was getting to my lungs, and I had to make an effort not to cough: it would be a sign of weakness.

In a moment Vishinsky laid his fan of cards on the table, and the other three men did the same, and instantly. 'You said you brought a note for me.'

I got it out and went closer, and both guards beside me took a sudden grip on my arms, so it was with a certain awkwardness that I dropped the envelope onto the table. When I stood back, my arms were released.

Vishinsky ripped open the envelope and read the note. 'So you want to sell some sable.'

'More specifically, I want to sell it to you.'

'And why is that?'

'You deal in only the best.'

'You seem to have been listening to a lot of people – whose names you can't remember.'

'I think we've been through all that.'

'You're rather cocky.'

'I'm sorry you think so.'

'I do, and I don't like it. Since you've heard so much from so many people, you must know that when I don't like something I take the appropriate action.'

I backed off and leaned against the wall, folding my arms. 'Vishinsky, you've got a very good brain, but at the moment you're thinking with your gut, and that won't get us anywhere. I want this deal made tonight, and if you're not interested I'll let you get on with your game of poker. So far you seem to be doing rather well.'

The stack of banknotes at his end of the table was larger than the other players', but that could just be because they had to let the Cougar win. Or he wouldn't like it.

'I always do well,' he said, his voice growing quiet again. 'And I don't always play at a table.'

'That's encouraging. I respect an intelligent opponent.'

'How long,' he asked in a moment, 'have you been dealing in merchandise?'

'Years.'

'Legitimately?'

'Of course.'

'You're not, then, in the brotherhood.'

'Actually, I am. But the deals I've made with members of the brotherhood have usually been honest on both sides.'

'Usually.'

'Yes.'

'And when they're not?'

'I take appropriate action. There are things I don't like either.'

Ash dropped again onto the table from one of the cigars, but the man smoking it didn't take any notice, or didn't think it was important. I thought it was important because it emphasized the mood in this room: these three men were totally attentive to Vishinsky's every word, and if he'd told them to go outside and shoot themselves I think they would have done that. He was the Cougar, and I was becoming aware of his power, which could only have been achieved by total ruthlessness. This was the most immediate danger: if it amused him to order a hit on me, simply out of caprice, he would do it almost without thinking.

'What do you mean,' he asked me, 'by appropriate action?'

'The last man who tried to screw me on a deal jumped out of a window.'

'Jumped.'

'There was no evidence that anyone had pushed him.'

'You made sure there wasn't any.'

Nothing but bloody questions, and I decided we ought to start doing some work. 'Look,' I said, 'you're wasting my time, Vishinsky, and in any case I don't like being put through third-degree, bamboo sticks or not.'

The stare took on a glitter. 'They could be provided. They will, in fact, be provided if you don't satisfy me as to your identity. You should have thought twice, Berinov, before you decided to insult me and come barging into my private room, a complete stranger.'

Knew my name because I'd signed the note. I unfolded my arms and stretched, taking my time, doing it thoroughly. If there was going to be any kind of action the muscles would need to be in tone.