Panthera Spelaea
Directive

We exited the subway system at the Библиотека имени Ленина (Lenin’s Library) station, which was a short walk to the southwest of Red Square. Marina Federov’s office was a block away, on the fourth floor of a building with views of the park along the Moscow River. We had tea and cakes as we waited for my lawyer to open the door to her office, as we had arrived early. Right on time, she opened her door and smiled at me. “Mr. Cantwell, a pleasure to see you again,” she said.

I was holding Svetlana’s hand as I rose. Marina’s eyes looked at our hands, then at us, and a smile came across her face. I did the introduction. “Marina Federov, this is my girlfriend, Svetlana Sevastyano. You may have seen her before; she is a nurse at Central Clinical. Svetlana, Marina is my criminal defense lawyer.”

“A pleasure,” Marina said as she shook Svetlana’s hand. “She will be joining us?”

“Yes,” I said. “I trust Lana as much as I love her.”

“Are you sure that is wise?” Marina was looking at Svetlana like she was a security risk, and with good reason.

“Marina, if Svetlana is working for the police, I wouldn’t be walking free.”

“This way, please.” She led us into the office, and we sat in the leather chairs in front of her desk as she sat down. I didn’t let go of Svetlana’s hand as we waited for Marina to talk. “There have been some developments in your case, while other answers are not coming,” she told us. “Vladimir Zhukovsky’s autopsy is now final, as the search for his head was unsuccessful. The coroner’s report is helpful to our defense. It listed the cause of death as a homicide, caused by beheading.”

“Decapitation on a boat?”

“Yes. There was too much blood left in the heart to support blood loss as the cause of death. Despite two deep stab wounds that severed major arteries, Vladimir’s lungs contained little blood and water. The stab wounds would have been fatal, but the killer removed Vladimir’s head first. It was jerked off, not cut.”

“Jesus.” What a way to go. “How freaking strong do you have to be to pull someone’s head off?”

“I did some research, and it takes a lot. When executing condemned criminals by hanging, there’s a range of body drop to consider. Too short a rope, and the neck doesn’t break, leaving the man to suffocate. Too long, and it breaks his neck before the rest of the body pulls free. There are tables on the Internet showing the ideal drop distance based on victim height and weight, but it’s not an exact science. If Vladimir had a noose around his neck, it would be the equivalent of at least a two-meter drop.”

That was a lot. “There’s no way you could do that by yanking on his head, and that area has nothing high enough to hang him. Could a boat do that?”

She nodded. “If it was moving at speed and the rope suddenly tightened? Sure.” She wrote down some notes in the folder, probably to look up examples.

The CID already assumed I was working with others to steal the Cave Lion, though. “What was he stabbed with?”

“The report states it was a tapered round object about two centimeters diameter at the widest point. Based on the size, it might be a wooden or metal stake or tent peg. It’s not a knife, though.”

“And they don’t know where this weapon is.”

“Correct. A piece of sharpened wood or metal tossed aside or at the bottom of the river would never be found.”

It wasn’t information to exonerate me, though. Our expedition used spikes and wooden posts to anchor lines in the muddy riverbank and tie-down tents and canopies. It was like having the murder weapon be a rock; unless you found one with bloodstains and fingerprints, it was useless. “Have they located the Cave Lion?”

“No, and that is the main reason you are still walking around. As long as Viktor thinks you may get in contact with the people who did this, they’ll leave you hanging.”

“Until they replace the cave lion,” Svetlana said.

“Yes,” Marina nodded. “Once they have that, your freedom is gone until trial. Any new memories?”

I shook my head, no. “Still nothing after the pain and blackout until the hospital.”

“Let me know if that changes,” she said. “Can I help with anything else?”

I filled her in on our budding relationship and the second blackout I’d had and my concerns about being alone when they happened. “I’ve moved in with Svetlana and her roommate, but I want to make the medical oversight official.”

“You want to hire them as round-the-clock medical care?”

“Exactly. I’d like you to arrange a contract to protect all of us and make the supervision legally binding with a health care directive.”

“How binding, exactly?”

I hadn’t talked with Svetlana about the specifics I’d already decided. “Svetlana and Anna would have the authority to make short-term medical decisions for me when I am incapacitated or incompetent to do so. Specifically, this includes medication, treatments, or inpatient care in a hospital or mental health facility as required. Their authority would be absolute until one of my parents arrives and assumes control of my care.”

Marina called in another lawyer with more experience in such matters. Thirty minutes, we had the papers prepared and signed. I could see Svetlana wasn’t happy that I’d made the contract for twice the pay than we’d agreed to, but she didn’t say anything in front of the others. We both took copies, and Marina sent one for Anna to sign and mail back to her. We left her office and headed for the elevator, and Lana wasn’t happy with me. “Why the health care directive? And why the pay? You didn’t have to do that!”

I pulled her into a hug, resting my chin on top of her hair. “What I found out this morning changes things, Lana. It’s not babysitting me or being around to call an ambulance; I could be placing the two of you in real danger. I need you both to have the authority to do whatever it takes if I lose it.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Svetlana whispered into my chest.

“You are afraid of what you do not understand, and you should be,” I said as the door opened to the ground floor. “Early dinner? I’m starving.”

“How can you be hungry after that breakfast?” I shrugged. “Fine, there’s a Ukrainian place I saw on the way here that is good.”

I held the door to Корчма Тарас Бульба (Tavern Tara Bulba) open for her and the hostess seated us immediately. I couldn’t follow the conversation, so I let Svetlana order for us. I raised my eyebrow when the woman walked away. “What did you get me?”

“A selection of foods. The special was duck, but you’ve had enough fowl for this week,” she teased. It turned out she’d ordered a sampler platter for two, with eight different authentic foods. The borsch was fantastic, as were the dumplings, duck, beef, and solyanka soup. Svetlana told me about the foods as we tried them, but she didn’t eat much. I had her place a much larger take-out order for the three of us to eat later with my favorites, including the duck.

I wanted to take her out on the town, but she said we needed to talk to Anna and get going on baseline testing my physical changes. With a big bag of food in hand, we headed back for the subway.