Kings of Many Castles (32 page)
Read Kings of Many Castles Online
Authors: Brian Freemantle
“You think we’re ever going to get it?” asked Kayley, kindling one of his cigars into a perfumed cloud.
Charlie considered for several minutes before he replied. “No,” he said, confronting the doubt properly for the first time. “I don’t think from the way it’s going at the moment that we stand a chance in hell.”
Charlie’s seriousness appeared to concentrate Kayley’s mind. “And I believe you’re probably right. I don’t think we are, either.” Thank Christ, he thought, for the Teflon protection of Paul Smith’s over-reactive e-mail.
Charlie seized upon Anne Abbott’s unexpected, car phone requests for a preparing, pre-hearing review-eager for a sounding board after the brief exchange with Kayley—without waiting for Morrison’s return to the incident room. Arkadi Noskov was already tightly wedged into the largest available chair-which would have enveloped anyone else-in Anne’s embassy office, vodka glass contentedly resting on his tablecloth of a beard. Charlie accepted the offered scotch, even though it was a mix. Anne wasn’t drinking.
“So how’d it go?” Charlie asked.
“It would have been better if you’d been there,” said Anne.
Charlie detected the edge to her voice. “I’m sorry?” he queried.
“So are we,” she said. “Bendall went through the routine with our psychiatrists but said he wouldn’t cooperate with anything else if you weren’t there. Which you weren’t.”
A serious oversight, acknowledged Charlie. It really was spiralling into a totally fucked up day. The refusal wouldn’t do anything to restore Donald Morrison’s confidence, either. Charlie said, “You really think he had any intention of saying anything today?”
“We’re never going to know, are we?”
“What about the psychiatrists?”
“He was impeccable,” replied the deep-voiced lawyer. “His behavior virtually amounts to proof of his sanity, without our needing to be professionally told.”
“Is that what the psychiatrists did say, that he was fit to plead?” demanded Charlie.
“They’ve promised qualifications in their written assessment but they’re unanimous on the deciding factor, that he’s mentally capable of understanding a criminal charge,” said Noskov.
“And that he’s mentally aware of what he’s done, capable of distinguishing between right and wrong,” finished Anne.
“What are the qualifications?” said Charlie.
“Delusory, to the point of severe fantacism,” Anne set out. “Fluctuating schizophrenic paranoia, susceptible to mental manipulation.”
“What’s that give us?” asked Charlie.
“At best, psychiatric mumbo jumbo for a plea of mitigation,” said the Russian lawyer, cynically. “And we’ve got the intended charges.”
“Which are?”
“Conspiracy to murder, murder, membership of a terrorist organization, terrorism, espionage and discharging a weapon with intent to endanger or take life,” enumerated Noskov.
“Espionage?” isolated Charlie, curiously.
“They’ve trawled through the statute book and will probably come up with some they haven’t got to yet,” said Noskov, with continued cynicism. “Don’t forget it’s only the initial, legally required arraignment. The prosecution will formally lay the charges, I’ll formally enter a plea of not guilty to each and that’ll be that for the next ten or twenty or however many custodial remands the prosecution ask for.”
“Perhaps,” said Anne, offering their individual bottles to each man for refills.
“What’s that mean?” questioned Charlie.
“Bendall’s demanding to address the court,” she said. “When we told him tomorrow wasn’t the time or the place he threatened to dismiss us and defend himself.” She hesitated. “That’s when we could have done with you most, to calm him down.”
Charlie accepted the persistent criticism. “We’re here to review. Let’s do just that, assemble what we’ve got.”
“Or rather what we
haven’t
got,” said Anne. “Give us your analysis against ours.”
haven’t
got,” said Anne. “Give us your analysis against ours.”
On his way to Protocnyj pereulok Charlie had believed he had everything neatly compartmented in his mind but almost as soon as he began to talk the doubt arose. The undoubted conspiracy was brilliantly conceived by people with sufficient power, influence and knowledge to penetrate KGB-era material and come literally within a hair’s breadth of a sniper’s rifle sight to assassinating two presidents. As it was, they’d killed one and by a fluke of an instinctive movement maimed the wife of another. Anne cut in, impressively advocatorial, when Charlie talked of a brotherhood and listed what they’d believed he’d extracted from Bendall about it, even managing a passing imitation of the man’s wailing dirge.
“Delusory, to the point of severe fantacism,” she reminded. “And that’s from our
own
experts! OK, we know from the number of shots fired and the different caliber of the bullets that there
was
a conspiracy but any half decent prosecution with a television film like they’ve got will cut us to pieces if we start talking of stupid bonding songs and blood brothers.”
own
experts! OK, we know from the number of shots fired and the different caliber of the bullets that there
was
a conspiracy but any half decent prosecution with a television film like they’ve got will cut us to pieces if we start talking of stupid bonding songs and blood brothers.”
“We’ve got an irrefutable defense to murder,” said Noskov. “The rest only just helps with a mitigating defence on the evidence of mental instability.”
“He’d have believed it, though, wouldn’t he?” said Charlie, slowly. “Someone who was easily deluded, retreated into fantasy in preference to his own shitty existence, would grab at the blood brother nonsense.”
“Where’s that take us?” asked Anne.
Charlie didn’t know but his feet throbbed, which was a good sign. “What are the inconsistencies! The things that don’t fit?”
“Most if it,” said Anne, despairingly.
“No!” refused Charlie. “Let’s go through it again, to find what doesn’t fit. Unarguable facts. It’s brilliantly … No!” Charlie stopped himself. “It’s a
professionally
conceived operation, the sort of assassination that would have needed the expertise of an organization trained and equipped to carry out authorized killings …”
professionally
conceived operation, the sort of assassination that would have needed the expertise of an organization trained and equipped to carry out authorized killings …”
“The FSB and before them the KGB,” interrupted Anne.
“And before them all the rest,” agreed Charlie. “We know from the different calibration of the
two
different rifles that there were
two
different marksmen, each capable of firing a total of five shots in under eight seconds. Professional marksmanship but not professional planning. If it had been truly professional, the rifles would have at least been of the same caliber …”
two
different rifles that there were
two
different marksmen, each capable of firing a total of five shots in under eight seconds. Professional marksmanship but not professional planning. If it had been truly professional, the rifles would have at least been of the same caliber …”
“An inconsistency,” recognized Noskov.
“Let’s mark it,” Charlie agreed. “Now let’s look at all the others. George Bendall, a dysfunctional, mentally unstable-but mentally malleable—man who was long ago trained as a marksman. A third rifle but only two bullets, because they know he can’t hit the intended targets and if he hits anyone else-which he fortunately didn’t—it doesn’t matter. Purpose? The dupe who is intended to take the blame. His cowed, frightened mother who doesn’t appear to know anything, yet is murdered in a jail for which the organization with the capability to commit assassination is responsible. And his apparent—his
only
—best friend, also possibly murdered in what was made to look like an accident on a level crossing. Anything I’ve missed out?”
only
—best friend, also possibly murdered in what was made to look like an accident on a level crossing. Anything I’ve missed out?”
“Bendall’s mystery pentathol injection,” reminded Anne.
“OK, let’s add that,” accepted Charlie. “Anything else?”
“Orkulov and the KGB,” said Noskov, simply. “Where’s that slot in?”
“It doesn’t, if its successor service is involved; whatever the changes, they rarely shaft their own …” Charlie hesitated again, remembering the number of times he’d been strung out to dry. “Not often, anyway.”
“Okulov appointed a presidential commission
into
the FSB,” argued Anne.
into
the FSB,” argued Anne.
“After
the shooting and with the finger pointing at them and him,” said Charlie. “Politically he didn’t have any alternative.” Into his mind’s eye came the two taunting photographs of Vasili Gregorovich Isakov: what the fuck was it he couldn’t see! With everything else so fragmented this discussion wouldn’t be taken forward by his getting the prints from his office and inviting the lawyers’ examination. “Is that it?”
the shooting and with the finger pointing at them and him,” said Charlie. “Politically he didn’t have any alternative.” Into his mind’s eye came the two taunting photographs of Vasili Gregorovich Isakov: what the fuck was it he couldn’t see! With everything else so fragmented this discussion wouldn’t be taken forward by his getting the prints from his office and inviting the lawyers’ examination. “Is that it?”
Both lawyers nodded their heads.
“So what’s there that shouldn’t be?”
“Like I said, most of it,” remarked Anne.
“That’s not helping,” threw back Charlie, balancing her earlier criticism.
“You know the impression I’m increasingly getting?” invited Anne.
Both men looked at her, waiting.
“I don’t find it difficult to imagine that there’s someone on the inside of this investigation manipulating the whole bloody lot of us, just as they manipulated George Bendall.”
There was a long silence.
“One of the conspirators?” said Noskov, finally.
“Maybe even more than one,” suggested Anne. “Think about it. Nothing adds up. Every move we’ve made-every move anyone else has made, as far as we’re aware—always runs into a brick wall.”
“Are you suggesting someone at our level?” pressed Charlie, feeling the beginning of a chill at his recognition of how much sense Anne’s remark made.
“I’m just pointing out that we’ve been made to dance around in circles and for that to happen so consistently it would be useful for the bad guys to have someone very close to the investigation.”
“You think Okulov
is
masterminding it to get the presidency? That’s the only level with a link to the FSB—or rather the KGB before it-that makes sense.”
is
masterminding it to get the presidency? That’s the only level with a link to the FSB—or rather the KGB before it-that makes sense.”
“I’m not sure what I think,” said Anne, uncharacteristically careless.
Okulov—through Trishin being on the commission—wasn’t the only one who fitted, thought Charlie. He ran the rest—their faces even—through his mind, desperate for a more likely suspect. And failed. Which didn’t prove anything. Nothing
was
provable. The whole thing—the entire speculation-was based upon a casual, throwaway aside that just, only just, might have sinister implications. But from her chairmanships of both the Russian coordinating groups and the presidential commission Natalia perfectly fitted the incriminating profile. Which was absurd. What reason—what possible purpose—could there be for Natalia even to be remotely
connected—the ultimate of unacceptable absurdities-with the killing and maiming of people. And yet …?
was
provable. The whole thing—the entire speculation-was based upon a casual, throwaway aside that just, only just, might have sinister implications. But from her chairmanships of both the Russian coordinating groups and the presidential commission Natalia perfectly fitted the incriminating profile. Which was absurd. What reason—what possible purpose—could there be for Natalia even to be remotely
connected—the ultimate of unacceptable absurdities-with the killing and maiming of people. And yet …?
It had been a working dinner and the recalled James Scamell had, only minutes before, quit the Regents Park official residence of the United States ambassador to England, leaving Anandale and Wendall North alone together.
Anandale said, “You sure the plug will hold?”
“They’re short eleven documents, three the minutes of the meetings at which the decision was made to contribute the soft $750,000 to your campaign and in which you were specifically named,” assured the chief of staff. “I’ve got the chief exec’s personnel guarantee they’re shredded. What’s left is a general discussion, about election funding. As far as the paper trail goes, it was a discussion upon which no action was taken, no names mentioned.”
“How many of the board know?”
“Five.”
“What if they’re subpoenaed?”
“They’d fall too. Diverting company funds without stockholders—and the full board’s—approval is fraud, a criminal offense.”
“They could plea bargain. Cop an amnesty for turning State’s evidence.”
“They’re firm. There’s insufficient to pressure any of them.” Anandale swirled the brandy in his snifter. “How long before the Grand Jury’s concluded?”
“Two weeks. And from now on it’s the dregs, no one who can hurt us,” guaranteed North. “You’re still high on the sympathy wave and the media are taking the duty-before-personal-safety line of your going back for the funeral.”
“Three specialists have so far decided there’s nothing that can be done for Ruth. Only two to go.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that, Mr. President.”
“Find more doctors, Wendall. Better qualified. We can’t let her stay like she is. She’s too proud.”
The chief of staff looked unnecessarily at his watch. “Donnington will still be up at the hotel. I’ll call him right away.”
“Let’s go outside the country—Europe’s fine-if he gets the name of the right man.”
“I’ll make sure Donnington understands.”
“You really think I should do what Scamell wants in Moscow after all the speculation?”
“Kayley doesn’t buy it. And we’ve been through the protection arrangements with a finetoothed comb. Aston says it’s safe. It’s been rehearsed so many times everyone can do it in their sleep.” Wendall North had ensured that this time there wasn’t a single security provision or objection in which he was a named participant.
“I want everyone with their eyes wide open,” said Anandale.
Charlie stayed late into the evening, alone in his own embassy office, going through everything—even the CNN film—knowing it was ridiculous but having to acknowledge that Anne Abbott’s suggestion deserved consideration and that when it was considered, Natalia was the best placed of any possible suspects to be an inside source. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—contemplate her being involved—aware in advance—in the actual murders. That was totally unthinkable. But examined closely—and Charlie’s examination was microscopic—that wasn’t what the lawyer had theorized. Anne Abbott had been referring to the almost orchestrated confusion afterwards. Which still didn’t make sense. Wasn’t it as unthinkable that she’d become inveigled afterwards? Knowing complicity after the crime would be as bad-as criminally culpable-as knowing of it before. He asked himself if she could have acted
un
knowingly and decided that was impossible: Natalia was far too astute to allow herself to be used unknowingly. It was only when he spread the reflection to honesty and integrity, trying to imagine any conceivable situation in which she’d be prepared to sacrifice either, that Charlie felt the first real flicker of unease. He didn’t doubt that Natalia would abandon honesty and integrity—even contemplate breaking the law—to protect Sasha. And the risk to Sasha—the upheaval to their daughter more than anything that might happen to her-had been Natalia’s constant, corrosive fear ever since she’d moved into Lesnaya. Still not enough; still unthinkable. There wasn’t even circumstantial evidence.
It was circumstantial—
very
circumstantial—hypotheses at best. Or worse.
un
knowingly and decided that was impossible: Natalia was far too astute to allow herself to be used unknowingly. It was only when he spread the reflection to honesty and integrity, trying to imagine any conceivable situation in which she’d be prepared to sacrifice either, that Charlie felt the first real flicker of unease. He didn’t doubt that Natalia would abandon honesty and integrity—even contemplate breaking the law—to protect Sasha. And the risk to Sasha—the upheaval to their daughter more than anything that might happen to her-had been Natalia’s constant, corrosive fear ever since she’d moved into Lesnaya. Still not enough; still unthinkable. There wasn’t even circumstantial evidence.
It was circumstantial—
very
circumstantial—hypotheses at best. Or worse.
Other books
Stay Silent by Valerie Vera
A Long Walk Up the Waterslide by Don Winslow
Sleeping through the Beauty by Puckett, Regina
The Armies of Heaven by Jane Kindred
Pip and the Twilight Seekers by Chris Mould
The Gospel According to Jesus Christ (Harvest in Translation) by Jose Saramago
Kidnapped by the Billionaire by Jackie Ashenden
Unspeakable Truths by Montalvo-Tribue, Alice
The Moon Around Sarah by Paul Lederer
Whirlwind by Charles Grant
