Our Kind of Traitor (37 page)

‘What about it?’

‘It began as a road wreck, OK?
Misha and Olga were killed in a road wreck
. Bullshit. It was
never
a road wreck. It was a
shooting
. So who shot them? A bunch of crazy Chechen who didn’t steal anything and spent a fortune on Kalashnikov bullets. Why? Because they hate Russians. Bullshit. It was
never
the fucking Chechen!’

Alexei was pummelling him, trying to put his hand over Viktor’s mouth, but Viktor shoved it away.

‘Ask anyone in Moscow who knows anything. Ask my friend Piotr. Misha was
whacked
. He was up against the
mob
. That’s why they took him out. Olga too. Now they’re gonna try and take out Dad before the cops get him. Right, Mom?’ He was yelling at Tamara through the slats. ‘What they call a
little warning
to show everyone who’s boss! Mom knows all that stuff. She knows
everything
. She did two years in Perm police gaol for blackmail and extortion. Questioned for seventy-two hours non-stop, five times. Beaten shitless. Piotr’s seen her record.
Harsh methods were employed
. Official. Right, Mom? That’s why she don’t
say
nothing any more to anyone except to God. They beat it out of her. Hey,
Mom
! We love you!’

Tamara recedes further into the shadows. Perry’s mobile rings. Luke, crisp and very guarded:

‘All well?’ Luke asks.

‘So far, yes. How’s our friend?’ – Perry asks, meaning Dima.

‘Happy and
sitting right here beside me in the car. Sends his best
.’

‘Reciprocated,’ Perry replies cautiously.

‘From now on, whenever there’s a chance, we do smaller groups. They’re easier to move and harder to identify. Can you dress the boys up a bit?’

‘How?’

‘Just make them look a bit different from each other. So they’re not such identical twins.’

‘Sure.’

‘And take a crowded train up. Maybe spread people around. A boy to each carriage, you and the girls in another. Get Harry to buy your tickets for you in Interlaken so that you’re not all queuing up at the same desk. Understood?’

‘Understood.’

‘Any word from Doolittle?’

‘Too soon. She only just left.’

It was the first time they’d spoken directly of Gail’s defection.

‘Well, she’s doing the right thing. Don’t let her think otherwise. Tell her that.’

‘I will.’

‘She’s a godsend and we need her to be successful.’ Luke speaking in riddles. He has no choice. Dima is sitting ‘
right here beside me in the car
’.

Clambering past the girls, Perry taps Ollie on the shoulder and shouts appropriate instructions into his ear.

*

Katya and Irina have found their cheese rolls and crisps and are head to head, munching and humming to each other. Now and then they turn round to look at Ollie’s hat and burst out giggling. Once Katya reaches out to touch it, but loses her nerve. The twins have settled for a game of pocket chess and their bananas.

‘Next stop, Interlaken, boys and girls!’ Ollie yells over his shoulder. ‘I’ll be parking at the railway station and taking the first train up with Madam and the luggage. You lovelies have a nice walk and a sausage, maybe, and follow me up the hill in your own sweet time. Happy as agreed, Professor?’

‘All very happy as agreed,’ Perry confirms, having consulted the girls.

‘Well,
we’re
not happy
at all
!’ Alexei yelps in protest, and flops back on to the cushions with his arms out. ‘We are expletive
miserable
!’

‘Any particular reason?’ Perry inquires.

‘
Every
particular reason! We are going to
Kandersteg
, I know it! I will
not
go to Kandersteg again,
ever
! I will not
rock climb
, I am not a
fucking
fly
, I have vertigo and I do
not
enjoy the companionship of Max!’

‘Wrong on all counts,’ says Perry.

‘You mean we’re
not
going to Kandersteg?’

‘I do.’

But Gail is, he thinks again, glancing at his watch.

*

By three o’clock, thanks to a timely train connection in Spiez, Gail had found the house. It wasn’t difficult. She’d asked at the post office: does anyone know a ski teacher called Max, a private instructor, not official Swiss Ski School, parents run a hotel? The large lady at the
guichet
wasn’t certain so she consulted the thin man at the sorting desk, who thought he knew but for safety’s sake consulted the boy loading parcels into the big yellow trolley, and the answer came back down the line: the Hotel Rössli along the high street on the right-hand side, his sister works there.

The high street was dizzy with unseasonably early sunshine and the mountains either side were shrouded in haze. A family of honey-coloured dogs basked on the pavement or sheltered under shop awnings. Holidaymakers with sticks and sunhats peered into windows of souvenir shops, and on the terrace of the Hotel Rössli a scattering of them sat at tables eating cake and cream and drinking iced coffee through straws out of long glasses.

An overworked red-headed girl in Swiss costume was the only person serving, and when Gail tried to talk to her she told Gail to sit down and wait her turn, so instead of walking straight out again, which would have been her normal reaction, she had meekly sat down, and when the girl came she first ordered a coffee she didn’t want, then asked whether by any chance she was the sister of Max, the great mountain guide, at which the girl broke into a radiant smile and had all the time in the world.

‘Well, not a
guide
yet, actually, not
officially
, and
great
, I don’t know! First he must make the exam, which is rather difficult,’ she said, proud of her English and grateful to practise it. ‘Unfortunately Max began
a bit late. Before, he wanted to be an architect but he didn’t like to leave the valley. He’s quite a dreamer actually, but fingers crossed, now he is settled down at last, and next year he will qualify. We
hope
! Maybe he is in the mountains today. Do you want me to call Barbara?’

‘Barbara?’

‘She’s actually
very
nice. We say she has completely converted him. It was
high
time, I must say!’

Blüemli. Max’s sister wrote it down for Gail on a double page torn from her notepad:

‘In Swiss German this means a
little flower
but it also can mean
big
flower, because Swiss people like to call anything they are fond of small. The last new chalet on the left side after you pass the school. Barbara’s father built it for them. Actually, I think Max has been
very
lucky.’

Blüemli was a young couple’s idyll built in spanking-new pine with window boxes with red flowers, red gingham curtains in the windows and a red chimney pot to match, and a hand-carved inscription under the roof in Gothic letters thanking God for his blessings. The front garden was a patch of fresh-mown new lawn with a new swing and a brand-new inflatable paddling pool and a new barbecue, and chopped-up firewood faultlessly stacked beside the seven-dwarfs front door.

If it had been a virtual house instead of a real one, Gail would not have been surprised, but nothing was surprising her. The case had not turned on its head, it had simply become worst case: but not worse than the many cases she had put together on her journey here by train, and was putting together now as she pressed the bell and heard a woman call cheerfully, ‘En Momänt bitte, d’Barbara chunt grad!’ which, though she had neither German nor Swiss German, told her that Barbara would be there in a moment. And true to her word Barbara was: a tall, groomed, fit, handsome, thoroughly pleasant woman only a little older than Gail.

‘Grüessech,’ she said and, catching Gail’s apologetic smile, switched a little breathlessly to English: ‘Hello! Can I help you?’

Through the open doorway Gail heard the plaintive grizzle of a baby. She took a breath, and smiled.

‘I hope so. I’m Gail. Are you Barbara?’

‘Yes. Yes, I am!’

‘I’m looking for a tall girl with black hair called Natasha, a Russian girl.’

‘Is she
Russian
? Well, I didn’t know. Maybe that explains something. Are you a doctor, maybe?’

‘I’m afraid not. Why?’

‘Yes, well, she’s here. I don’t know why. Can you come in, please? I have to look after Anni. She has a first tooth.’

Stepping briskly after her into the house, Gail smelled the sweet, clean smell of powdered baby. A row of felt slippers, with bunny’s ears, hanging from brass hooks, invited her to remove her grubby outdoor shoes. While Barbara waited, Gail pulled on a pair.

‘How long’s she been here?’ Gail asked.

‘One hour already. Maybe more.’

Gail followed her to an airy living room with French doors opening on to a second small garden. At the centre of the room stood a playpen, and in the playpen sat a very small girl with golden ringlets and a dummy in her mouth and an array of brand-new toys around her. And against the wall on a low stool sat Natasha with her head down and her face hidden in her hair, leaning over her folded hands.

‘Natasha?’

Gail kneeled to her and put a hand to the back of her head, cupping it. Natasha winced, then let the hand stay where it was. Gail spoke her name again. To no effect.

‘It was lucky you came, I must say,’ said Barbara in garrulous Swiss sing-song, picking Anni up and putting her over her shoulder to wind her. ‘I was going to call Dr Stettler. Or maybe the police, I didn’t know. It was a problem. Really.’

Gail was stroking Natasha’s hair.

‘She rings the bell, I am feeding Anni, not bottle but the best way. We have a
lens
in the door now because
these days
you never
know
. I looked, I had Anni at my breast, I thought well, fine, that’s a normal girl on my doorstep, quite beautiful actually I must say, she wants to come in, I don’t know why, maybe to make an appointment with
Max, he has many clients, specially young, because he is so interesting naturally. So she comes in, she looks, she sees Anni, she asks me in
English
– I didn’t know she was Russian, one doesn’t think of that although one should these days, I think maybe she is Jewish or Italian – “Are you Max’s sister?” And I say no, I am not his sister, I am Barbara his wife, and who are you please, and how can I help you? I am a busy mother, you can see. Do you wish to make an arrangement with Max, are you a climber? What is your name? And she says she is Natasha, but actually I am beginning to wonder already.’

‘Wonder what?’

Gail pulled up another stool and sat at Natasha’s side. With her arm across her shoulder, she gently drew Natasha’s head in to her until their temples were pressing hard against each other.

‘Well
drugs
actually. The young today, I mean one simply doesn’t know,’ said Barbara, speaking indignantly like someone twice her age. ‘And frankly with foreigners, specially English, the drugs are
everywhere
, ask Dr Stettler.’ The baby gave a scream and she calmed it. ‘With Max also, his young ones, my God, even in the mountain huts, they are taking drugs! I mean alcohol I understand. Not cigarettes naturally. I offered her coffee, tea, mineral water. Maybe she didn’t hear me, I don’t know. Maybe she is having a
bad trip
, as the hippies say. But with the baby frankly one doesn’t like to say it, but I was a little bit
afraid
even.’

‘But you didn’t call Max?’

‘In the mountains? When he has
guests
? That would be terrible for him. He would think she was ill, he would come immediately.’

‘He would think
Anni
was ill?’

‘Well naturally!’ She paused and reconsidered the question, which was not, Gail suspected, a thing she did often. ‘You think Max would come for
Natasha
? That’s completely ridiculous!’

Taking Natasha’s arm, Gail lifted her gently to her feet, and when she was fully upright, she embraced her, then took her to the front door, helped her change back into her outdoor shoes, changed her own, and walked her across the perfect lawn. As soon as they were through the gate, she called Perry.

She’d called him once from the train, and once when she reached the village. She’d promised to call him practically by the minute because Luke couldn’t talk to her himself, he had Dima sitting on top of him somewhere, so please use Perry as the cut-out. And she knew things were very fraught, she could hear it in Perry’s voice. The more calm he was, the more fraught she knew things were, and she assumed an episode of some sort. So she spoke calmly herself, which probably conveyed the same signal to him in reverse:

‘She’s all right. Fine, OK? I’ve got her here with me, she’s alive and well, we’re on our way. We’re walking towards the station now. We need a little time, that’s all.’

‘How much time?’

Now it was Gail who was having to watch her words, because Natasha was clinging to her arm.

‘Enough to repair our souls and powder our noses. One other thing.’

‘What?’

‘Nobody needs to be asked where they’ve been, all right? We had a small crisis, it’s over now. Life goes on. It’s not just about when we arrive. It’s from then on: no questions of the affected party. The girls will be fine. The boys I’m not sure.’

‘They’ll be fine too. I’ll see to it. Dick will be over the moon. I’ll tell him at once. Hurry.’

‘We’ll try.’

*

On the crowded train back to the valley there had been no opportunity to speak, which didn’t matter because Natasha showed no inclination to; she was in shock, and at times seemed unaware of Gail’s existence. But on the train from Spiez, under Gail’s gentle coaxing, she began to wake. They were sitting side by side in a first-class carriage and looking straight ahead of them, just as they had been in the tent at Three Chimneys. Evening was falling fast and they were the only passengers.