Ivanoff: No, sir. The police came by the saloon, and somebody told them it was me. Guess they thought it was better to arrest an immigrant. They took me into the station. It was a terrible mistake.
Sharpe: And I understand your wife came to plead with the police the following day for your release. Why didn’t they listen to her?
Ivanoff: Corrupt, I tell you. They jailed an innocent man and wouldn’t listen to reason, even with the facts. They ruined my reputation. I don’t understand this country. In Russia, men are honest.
Sharpe: Let the record show that I have, here, a signed statement from Mrs. Arianna Ivanoff stating that her husband, Sven Ivanoff, did not harm her on the night of May 7, 1933. Now, Mr. Ivanoff, let’s talk about what happened the night of Miss Ray’s death.
Ivanoff: Well, I knew she was in a rough spot, having trouble paying her rent and all. I’d heard that her son was missing. Broke my heart. He was a good little boy. Reminded me of my own son.
Sharpe: Mr. Ivanoff, did you have anything to do with the disappearance of Daniel Ray?
Ivanoff: No, sir.
Sharpe: Please describe for me your encounters with Miss Ray in the week leading up to her death.
Ivanoff: Well, sir, I remember being in the saloon, the day of the snowstorm. I saw her come home from work, like usual, and shortly after she came running down the stairs, screaming for her little boy. I knew something terrible had happened.
Sharpe: Did you try to help her?
Ivanoff: Yes sir. I walked out to the street, but she’d already run off.
Sharpe: When did you next see her?
Ivanoff: About a week later. The snow had melted, I remember that. I was working on a job at the Olympic Hotel. Saw her there all gussied up, on the arm of a rich man. I didn’t recognize her at first. She saw me. Looked away. I think she was ashamed.
Sharpe: Why do you think she was ashamed? What did you think she was doing there?
Ivanoff: We all do things for the ones we love. I didn’t fault her for trying to get help from an influential person if it helped to find her son.
Sharpe: The prosecution has characterized Miss Ray as a common prostitute, a woman of questionable morals who neglected her son so she could make extra cash as a call girl. They have also suggested that you paid Miss Ray for such services and that you are responsible for her death. How do you respond to these allegations?
Ivanoff: They’re made up. Completely false. Miss Ray was neither a bad mother nor a prostitute. She loved her boy just as my Arianna loved our son. Miss Ray’s dedication to that child was unquestionable. And I can tell you this, sir, she was no call girl.
Sharpe: How do you know?
Ivanoff: Just by the look in her eye when she was with that man at the hotel. She didn’t want to be there with him. Anyone could see that. She looked so sad, so lost. I only wish I could have helped her.
Sharpe: So let’s go through the time line of the night she was murdered.
Ivanoff: I was getting off work at the hotel, piling my tools in my truck, when I saw her run out of the hotel. She didn’t look well. Her dress was torn. Her hair wasn’t up like it usually was. She was crying. It looked as if she was running from someone. I tried to get her attention, but she was running so fast. I secured the last load onto my truck, and started out on Fourth Avenue. That’s when I noticed her get on the back of a grocery truck. She sat right there between the crates of produce and bread. I followed the truck. I wanted to be sure she was OK. Truck dropped her off right in front of a fancy street in Windermere, near where I’d first seen her years ago. I pulled the truck to the side of the road, not wanting to intrude. I waited there for a while.
Sharpe: How long would you say?
Ivanoff: Oh, at least twenty minutes. I thought she might be coming back, and if she did, I wanted to offer her a ride home. See if I could help her. The missus could make her a warm meal, make her a place to sleep on the sofa.