The Wolf at the Door (13 page)

If ever there was horror on a human face, it was on hers. “You can’t do that.” She broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. “What can I do to stop this dreadful thing happening?”

“Admit everything, and not just what we’ve been talking about but anything else that you overheard in the past.”

She tried to compose herself. “But I wasn’t always acting as his secretary. All right, there were some other strange things that happened. He was crazy in a way, and a great drunk, but most of the time I was in the code room.”

“Start by telling us what happened on Monday morning. You weren’t in the code room then. Tell me exactly what you did.”

“The second transcript that came from Paris, the phone with the information about the
Garden of Eden
and Chelsea, came in when I was still on duty.”

“You’ve told us that you called Luzhkov and Bounine answered, and you didn’t see them again. I presume that wasn’t true.”

“I was curious about the whole business, there was no way I could have gone to sleep. There was no sign of the Mercedes in the car park. It’s not against regulations to take a restroom break, which I did, and had a shower while I was in there to liven myself up, and I had my alarm which would alert me if anything came through. I returned to the code room, looked out at the car park, and saw the Mercedes was there again. It was just before my six a.m. relief, and another transcript came through from Paris.”

“And what was that?”

“A confirmation that the
Garden of Eden
would host a party for a hundred people and would slip its moorings at one-thirty for the trip to Westminster.”

“And you, of course, passed it straight on to him?”

“I wasn’t sure if he might have gone to his quarters down the road, but, when I tried the office, he was there and told me to read the transcript over the phone.”

“So what did you do after that?”

“As I told you, I was intrigued about the whole business, so I went and got a tray at the canteen, coffee, and so on, an excuse to go to the office.”

“And?”

“I saw Major Bounine approaching. He was in a robe, a towel round his neck and his hair damp as if he’d been in the shower, and he looked angry. He totally ignored me and went straight into the outer office.”

“And you, of course, followed?”

“Yes.”

“And you operated one of the recording devices in the outer office that enabled you to eavesdrop. What was being said?”

“I can’t remember everything, but the Colonel told Bounine about the time the
Garden of Eden
was leaving, and Bounine said, ‘Have you informed Ali Selim about that?’ Luzhkov said he had, and that Selim was very happy about it. A hunter scenting his prey.”

Lermov glanced at Ivanov. “What do you think, Peter?”

“That, incredible as it sounds, Luzhkov was planning some sort of a hit.” He turned to Greta. “How did Bounine react to all this?”

“He brushed it aside and said he had something more important to discuss.” She shook her head. “Look, I wasn’t making notes, so I can only recall the gist of it.”

“Go on,” Lermov said. “Just do your best.”

“Well, it seemed to concern Alexander Kurbsky.”

“It what?” Ivanov was astounded.

“Major Bounine asked the Colonel if he was aware that Tania Kurbsky had died of typhoid in Station Gorky in 2000. The Colonel said that was nonsense, and Bounine told him the Putin files and the DVD were all fake. The Colonel sounded upset and said something about Kurbsky having done everything for nothing.”

Ivanov was looking stunned by now, and Lermov said to her gently, “My dear Greta, Station Gorky recedes already. Now, carry on. Did anything else strike you about that conversation?”

She frowned, trying to think back, and then nodded. “I remember now. Bounine said to the Colonel that the man in the black hood who saved Blake Johnson wasn’t Dillon at all, it was Kurbsky, who couldn’t stand the idea of someone else ending up in Station Gorky like his sister.”

“And that was all.”

She frowned, trying her best, and then smiled in a kind of triumph. “Bounine said that Ferguson and Roper had probably found out that Kurbsky’s defection was false.”

“Incredible,” Ivanov said.

“And what happened then?” Lermov asked.

“Bounine walked out, ignoring me, so I took the coffee in to Luzhkov. He was drinking vodka, as usual, and thanked me for the coffee. The fact that I was still there didn’t seem to surprise him. I went back in the office, busied myself with some filing, and then he got another call, and I checked it out.”

“And who was it?”

“General Ferguson. It was a shouting match, and he called Colonel Luzhkov a bastard.” She shook her head. “I only remember bits. He threatened to have a lot of GRU people packed off to Moscow. He said he knew all about Kurbsky and intended to help him in any way he could. He said Kurbsky had already done the United States a big favor by saving this Blake Johnson.”

“And afterwards?”

“He was sitting in there drinking vodka for ages and then he sent for Bounine.”

“And you listened again?”

“He said to Bounine that in view of what had happened, that maybe it would be a good idea to cancel Ali Selim, and gave Bounine fifty thousand pounds to give Selim for his time.”

“And Bounine went?”

“Yes, I was at my desk. He left without a word, carrying a holdall with a shoulder strap.” She was obviously uncomfortable again. “I need a rest, Colonel, please.”

“We’re coming to the end. You’ve been very good. Bounine returned, did he?”

“Yes, the morning had flown, it was certainly past noon. He came straight through my office and went in to the Colonel.”

“And once again you listened?”

“Bounine said Ali Selim had told him he had cancer and had only three months to live and wasn’t interested in the money or canceling. He’d go out in a blaze of glory.”

She paused, and Lermov said, “Go on, girl.”

“I’m sorry, Colonel. Through the glass windows to the corridor, I saw Olga, the staff supervisor, approaching. She was obviously going to come in, so I switched off.”

“Dear God, don’t let it be true,” Ivanov put in with great emotion.

“Calm yourself, Peter,” Lermov told him. “Give her a chance.” He leaned forward. “How long did she stay?”

“Three or four minutes, and, as soon as she’d gone, I switched on and heard Bounine say, ‘You must face him.’ The Colonel said that Bounine must go with him and find an opportunity to shoot Selim.”

“And what did Bounine say?”

“He agreed to go, said they’d leave in twenty minutes, and went out.”

“And Luzhkov?”

“Followed him a bit later, telling me that he and Major Bounine had an appointment and he’d be back later in the afternoon. I left the office and went upstairs to a window overlooking the car park, saw them walk to the Mercedes, get in, and drive away, Bounine at the wheel.”

“Well, he would be,” Ivanov commented, “Luzhkov awash with vodka like he was.”

Greta Bikov seemed to straighten her back, and clasped her hands together on the table in front of her. “And that, Colonel, was the last time I clapped eyes on Colonel Boris Luzhkov and Major Yuri Bounine, so help me God.”

Lermov smiled. “I believe you completely, Lieutenant Bikov.”

“All sins forgiven, Colonel?” she asked.

“To be frank, I would find it difficult to recommend you to any officer of rank for secretarial duties, but I will overlook that, as your misconduct has provided me with information beyond price. We are not finished yet, of course, but I think you’ve earned another break.”

 

 

 

Lermov sat opposite Ivanov
in a secluded corner of the officers’ bar and indulged in the finest vodka to be had and cold as ice.

“Excellent,” Lermov said as he drank the first one. “I really needed that.”

“It surely freezes the brain,” Ivanov told him. “Your threat to send her to Station Gorky for life was what did the trick. The silly girl fell for it.”

“But I meant it, Peter. There is no room for empty threats in my world. People imagine physical force is always necessary to break down the subject of an interrogation.”

“And you don’t agree?”

“In the years of the Third Reich, the Germans were the masters of Europe from the English Channel to the Urals, and yet in Britain, where the Nazi spy system was totally destroyed, torture was unthinkable, no physical force used at all.”

“So what was the secret?”

“The double-cross system. They turned spies so that their German masters thought the spies were still working for them and believed in their radio traffic.”

“How did the British do that?”

“Certainly not torture, and, according to their ethos, you could never depend on any kind of physical force. Their spy catchers offered a simple choice, delivered in the English of the upper classes.”

“Saying what?” Ivanov asked.

Lermov delivered his answer in English so perfect there was only the hint of a Russian accent. “ ‘ Sorry to hear you can’t help us, old man. Too bad. They’ll take you back to your cell now. No point in prolonging things. You’ll be hung in the prison yard at nine o’clock in the morning.’ ”

“Good God,” Ivanov replied in reasonable English, though not as excellent as Lermov’s. “They actually did that?”

“Oh, yes, the salutary-shock approach. The knowledge of that nine o’clock appointment concentrated the minds wonderfully.”

“I see now where you were coming from with Greta Bikov. You scared the pants off her.”

“Don’t feel sorry for her, Peter. Her behavior in London was appalling. Who else has she been listening in on?” He shook his head. “She’s not fit for anything as far as the GRU is concerned.”

“But still is for us?”

“Of course, but let’s review what we’ve learned so far. Boris Luzhkov, who appears to have been a drunken idiot most of the time, heard of the unexpected meeting of the Big Four and decided to cover himself with glory by arranging to have them assassinated by a man called Ali Selim whom he’d obviously dealt with frequently. I get a hunch that Bounine was not too happy about this but agreed to go along, not really having any choice. After midnight Monday morning, they met Ali Selim, the hit was set up, and they returned to the Embassy. What’s the next step?”

“Bounine appeared in Luzhkov’s office to ask him if he knew that Tania Kurbsky, who was supposed to be alive, had actually died of typhoid in January 2000, and Luzhkov said he didn’t.”

Lermov said, “Let’s accept that Luzhkov genuinely didn’t know that Tania was dead, which would mean Bounine didn’t either, so where had he got the truth about Tania from?”

“I’d say from Kurbsky,” Ivanov said. “He and Bounine were comrades in Afghanistan, he had access to Bounine’s encrypted mobile phone. He phoned Bounine with news about a shooting in Mayfair. They may have been more in touch than we realize.”

“And where did Kurbsky get it from?” Lermov nodded as if to himself. “But of course. Major Giles Roper, no one more qualified to unlock the secrets of cyberspace.”

Ivanov smiled wryly. “I shouldn’t imagine a Code 9 Restriction held up Roper for very long.”

“I agree,” Lermov said. “And then we have the shouting match with General Ferguson, who threatens the Embassy with reprisals and says he knows all about Kurbsky, would help him in any way he could, and mentions that the Americans were grateful he’d helped Blake Johnson. We know how valuable Johnson is to the White House. So where are we?”

Ivanov said, “I tell you one thing. I’m certain Alexander Kurbsky is out there in the hands of Ferguson and his people. Luzhkov and Bounine, I’m not sure. What do you think? You’re the expert on terrorism and covert operations.”

“Kind of you to say so, but I’ve always fancied the idea of writing a novel, and this whole business would be a thriller. Kurbsky, the gallant hero, blackmailed because the sister he thought dead is serving life, and he agrees to infiltrate the enemy elite group, his reward being her release.”

“Who turns out to be dead.”

“Not really very funny, when you think about it,” Lermov said. “A man like Kurbsky, what would he do when he found out that he’d been used so badly?”

“Go on the warpath, I’d say.”

“Of course he would, and, like you, I believe he’s out there and very probably with Ferguson and his people. Bounine was his close friend, we know that, so perhaps he’s gravitated to Kurbsky. Luzhkov is a total mystery still, but we can find out about this Ali Selim. It’s a common name, but he probably has a record. Go and get that moving.”

“And you, Colonel?”

“I’m going to have another session with Greta. I’m intrigued by this Blake Johnson business and the man in the black hood not being Dillon but Kurbsky. What’s that all about? Be off with you, and you can join me when you’ve seen to the Ali Selim thing.”

 

 

 

So once more
to the interrogation cell, where Greta Bikov waited under the impassive gaze of Sergeant Stransky and her colleague. She was seemingly calm, and yet a nerve twitched in her right cheek, and she stirred in her chair as if uncomfortable. She made the mistake of starting before Lermov did.

“I don’t think there’s anything more I can tell you, Colonel. I seem to have covered everything.”

“You will allow me to be the judge of that,” Lermov said, and the door opened behind him, and Ivanov entered. He took up his position again, leaning against the wall.

“Everything’s in order, Colonel. They’re processing the Ali Selim query now. As soon as anything turns up, we’ll know about it.”

“I’m obliged to you, Captain Ivanov.” Lermov opened his file and gave Greta his full attention. “Everything you’ve told us so far has made sense, though aspects of it can’t be fully confirmed. Now I would like you to cast your mind back to tell us how Bounine told Colonel Luzhkov of the death of Tania Kurbsky. You said that he also referred to a man in a black hood.”