Albatross (31 page)

‘Well,' she greeted him, putting aside the book and taking off her spectacles, ‘you must have enjoyed yourself, dear. What a good idea to bring up some tea. How did you know I'd be awake?'

‘Because you always are, till I come to bed,' he retorted. ‘Everybody at Marchwood sent their love, and said they were sorry you didn't come.'

‘I would have done,' she said, ‘if you'd given me the chance.'

He patted her arm affectionately. ‘Not this time,' he said. ‘It was all done on the spur of the moment. And well worthwhile.'

‘Tell me,' his wife said, ‘who was there, besides Betty and Fergus?'

‘John and Charlie, Davina and her friend Major Lomax. All very well, and pretending to like each other as usual. There's no gathering in the world so full of tension as a family's get-together,' he remarked, eating a biscuit. ‘These are very good. I like the crunchy bits.'

‘You're a terrible cynic,' Mary said. ‘I wonder what people say about us.'

He laughed his gleeful little chuckle. ‘Exactly the same, I should think. Those Whites seem such a devoted couple, but did you notice …? Come, Mary, dear, when Philip was alive we were often at odds with him and each other. Remember poor Humphrey sitting in the corner trying to pretend he wasn't there? What an awkward fellow he was, even then.… He hasn't changed, either. Nor have his problems.'

‘How could they?' she said. ‘He never faced up to them except that one time when he came to you.'

‘And I helped him,' James White maintained. ‘So I'm not entirely cynical. Be fair.'

‘Nonsense,' Mary retorted. ‘You made the poor man work for you, that's all. You
are
looking smug. I'm not going to ask about it because I'm dying to get to sleep, but did you get what you wanted?'

Her husband got up and stretched a little. ‘Yes, my dear, I think I did. Good Lord, look at the time!'

John Kidson was undressing slowly. ‘You shouldn't have had a row,' he said. ‘I don't want to make bad blood between you.'

Charlie sat on the bed; her pale pink nightdress was slit provocatively to the thigh. ‘Darling, we've already been over this, why bring it up again? There's always been bad blood,' she said. ‘I mistook a truce for something more. I thought she'd stopped hating me till I realized what she was trying to do to you. I told her what I thought of her and I don't regret a word! John – did you find out anything? Was it any help bringing her down here?'

He came and sat with her, one arm round her waist. ‘Of course it was,' he said gently. ‘She didn't know it, but she told me a good deal. I'm not a fool, you know. She's got so arrogant lately that she doesn't reckon other people any more. That's the first sign of losing your grip.'

Charlie leaned against him. She felt like making love. ‘And do you think it'll be all right – she hasn't hurt your chance of getting the job, has she?'

‘No,' said John Kidson, ‘I'd say that she's done quite the opposite.'

‘Sir James was throwing out pretty broad hints,' Charlie murmured. She slid both arms round him. ‘It'll be all right,' she repeated. ‘He was so sweet to me tonight. I know you're going to get it.'

Kidson didn't answer. He kissed his beautiful wife and tried to match her eagerness, but he felt cold and drained. Desire faltered and died, and for the first time since they were married, he disappointed her. His mind was obsessed by something very different.

‘Do you think we were followed?'

Lomax hesitated. ‘There was a Ford Escort I noticed at the flyover – it was some way behind, but still there when we turned down here.' He went to the window overlooking the street and inched the curtain back. ‘Can't see anyone at the moment but maybe the hotel management are due for a surprise visit.'

‘What a depressing place,' Davina said. There was a pervasive smell of cooking and human bodies. The room was clean but furnished in cheap, garish colours, and it smelt as stuffy as the rest of the hotel.

She looked at her watch. ‘Have another look,' she suggested.

Lomax went back to the window. ‘Nothing, no cars coming down at all.' If a car drove through more than once, it was certain to be the tail keeping an eye on the place.

‘I think we can go,' Davina said, ‘we've been here an hour.'

‘No point in waiting for the visitors, if they arrive,' Lomax remarked.

It was one in the morning and the streets were empty; a distant car hooted forlornly like a lonely owl.

Lomax drove; they spent most of the journey in silence. ‘If Humphrey stays out of it, it could put him in the clear,' Davina said suddenly. ‘If nothing happens at the hotel, it means he didn't have us followed. Which leaves the Chief and John.'

‘That narrows it, certainly,' Lomax agreed. ‘But what happens if they don't react either? Then what do we do?'

She snapped at him, irritable because he was voicing her own doubts, ‘I haven't any idea! Keep plugging at Harrington.'

‘I told you I thought it was a very risky scheme,' Lomax said quietly. ‘But I've gone along with it. I'd feel a lot happier if I went back to the Ritz.'

‘If you did,' she countered, ‘Albatross would know it's a set-up. He wouldn't move. You've got to stay put and so have I. You said your friend Fraser's men would know what to do.'

‘They'll keep Harrington locked away,' he said. ‘And they're on full alert. That should be enough. But I still don't like it. And what's your friend Walden going to say about his end?'

‘He'll understand,' she answered, wishing he would stop pointing out the risk of failure when she knew it so well herself.

‘Maybe.' Lomax turned off the motorway and the car sped down the Andover road. ‘Maybe, but will his wife?'

She didn't answer. Three clues, and only one of them led to Harrington. Three colleagues, one of whom would send, not the Special Branch to arrest the missing traitor, but the KGB to rescue him. And thereby reveal himself. They turned into the drive and went into the house by the back door, which was never locked.

They crept upstairs and separated on the landing. Lomax looked down at her. She couldn't see his face in the semidark. ‘Get your head down and try to sleep,' he said.

‘I will.' She felt thankful that he didn't try to come in with her. ‘Good night, Colin.'

The room had been hers since childhood, and nothing had changed in it. The same furniture, the same china animals as ornaments. In the narrow bed, she and Ivan Sasanov had made love for the first time. Colin Lomax was right. It was both risky and uncertain, but she had no alternative but to gamble and hope to win. She didn't expect to sleep at all, but she did, and without dreaming.

It was a glorious summer morning when her mother knocked on the door and called out, ‘Davina? It's half past eight. Are you coming down to breakfast?'

John Kidson suggested a walk after breakfast. He had brought Charlie's upstairs on a tray; she never came down until late. He said to Davina, ‘I'd like a chance to talk to you. Let's wander up through the wood, shall we?'

She saw Lomax glance up suspiciously and signalled him to stay behind. ‘Why not?' she agreed. ‘It's such a lovely morning.' They reached the fields behind the house and walked through a little belt of trees that didn't really constitute a wood. As they came out, the spendid panorama of Salisbury Plain unfolded before them.

‘This always gives me a thrill,' John Kidson said. ‘It comes on you as such a surprise when you leave the trees.'

Davina said quietly, ‘What did you want to say to me, John?'

He took her arm and they began to walk slowly along the edge of the wood. ‘It's about you and Charlie,' he said. ‘I couldn't help hearing you quarrelling last night. I don't want this to happen, Davina. We've worked together for years and we've always got along. You and she had your differences long before I met her. I don't want them flaring up again because of me.'

‘I didn't realize she was so ambitious for you,' Davina answered. ‘She wants you to take over from the Chief. And you want it too, don't you?'

He didn't quite hide the flash of hostility when he answered. ‘Of course I do. I'm the only person
to
step into the job. I mentioned it to Charlie, and I did say you weren't exactly helping. But I didn't expect her to fly at you the way she did. I wish you'd stop all this private snooping and let the Service deal with this Albatross business in its own way.'

Davina stopped and disengaged her arm from what had started out as a friendly clasp. ‘You mean let the bastard that helped to kill my husband cover up for himself? Not a chance, John.'

‘So the motive for all this is personal, after all,' he challenged her. ‘Not just the selfless patriotic bit. Why don't you leave the past where it belongs? Nothing's going to bring the dead back to life. Why don't you get on with your new job and make up your mind about Colin? I'm really talking as a friend now. I don't suppose you'll believe me, but it's true. I'm looking after my own end and I'm pretty confident. You're out there punching on your own. You know where a convicted criminal is hiding; that could put you in a very awkward spot – we all know you've got him holed up somewhere. You say you're going to produce Albatross like a rabbit out of a hat – I don't believe you can. The bluffs going to be called, Davina. Think about it, and if you need any help, I'm here and I'm genuinely anxious for you.'

She walked on briskly, keeping step with him. They turned back into the shelter of the trees and started down towards the house. ‘Thanks,' she said briefly, ‘I'll bear it in mind. I wouldn't be too confident, if I were you. I'm the one who's going to call the bluff.'

The message was sent to Borisov's dacha where he was spending the weekend with his family. The dacha was the perquisite of the Director of State Security, set in seclusion amid the beautiful pine forests outside Moscow. It was close enough to the splendid house allotted to the President himself; Borisov was able to walk there, accompanied by his guardian Alexei, who came everywhere with him. It was a hot day, very still, and the scent of the pines was sharp in the air. Borisov wore the casual shirt and trousers of the ordinary citizen, his feet in sandals, a dog trotting behind him. He looked a very ordinary man in his late forties or just touching fifty, well-built, pleasant-looking but unremarkable. He could have been any one of Moscow's citizens enjoying a walk in the woods with a friend. Except that the whole area of Zhukova was reserved for the members of the Politburo and the important officials in the Party. No ordinary Russian was allowed there, and the idyllic landscape of woods and fields bisected by the yellow ribbon of the Moscova river concealed armed men discreetly placed around each dacha.

Borisov was admitted to the private swimming pool where Zerkhov took gentle exercise. The ruler of Russia was wrapped in a big towelling dressing gown, sipping fresh lemonade in the sunshine. Borisov dismissed Alexei. Zerkhov glanced after the retreating figure and said, ‘Your new secretary. More trustworthy than the previous one? Yes, sit down, Igor Igorovitch. Have some lemonade. It's very good; my doctor recommends it. You have news for me?'

‘We have found Harrington,' Borisov said.

‘Good,' Zerkhov muttered, blinking in the sunshine.

‘We have to protect Albatross and get him out as soon as possible,' said Borisov. ‘I've arranged for his replacement.'

‘And is that all you came to tell me, my son?' the old man asked gently.

‘No,' Borisov answered, ‘I wouldn't disturb your little leisure time for that alone. Albatross had some important information he sent on. We have an Albatross of our own.'

The old man's head came up, the sleepy look changed to one of piercing intentness. ‘Where is he, and do we know who?'

‘He is in the Foreign Ministry,' Borisov said.

There was a moment of silence between them. Zerkhov pressed a hidden bell in the side of his chair. A man appeared at the entrance to the swimming pool. Zerkhov didn't even look at him. ‘Bring more lemonade.'

‘My organization has been penetrated,' Borisov went on, his voice a monotone that made the words more threatening. ‘There are spies in my own offices. One of them passed secret information to the Foreign Ministry, and the traitor then leaked this information to the British embassy.'

‘What was the information?' A jug of fresh lemonade tinkling with ice was brought and two glasses poured.

‘Information that discredited the KGB,' Borisov went on. ‘Information that put Albatross in danger, and was designed to make us a laughing stock before the Western world. Fortunately Albatross was able to warn me of the leak and I have taken action. That action will now be implemented.'

‘Do you have proof of this, Igor Igorovitch?'

‘Albatross has the proof,' Borisov said. ‘That is one reason why he must be protected and brought out. So that he can tell you himself.'

‘It was an attack on you,' Zerkhov remarked. ‘Coming from the Foreign Ministry.'

‘Yes,' Borisov admitted. ‘But a power struggle within the State is one thing, and we both know what is going on. To benefit the enemy in pursuit of advantage in that struggle is treason.'

‘Which is what we need,' the old man spoke thoughtfully.

Borisov said no more. The minutes passed while the most powerful man in the Soviet Union gazed at the sunlight shimmering on the swimming pool and thought about the downfall of his enemies. ‘Get me the proof,' he said at last. ‘Bring Albatross to me. Then we won't have to wait until the autumn. By the time the Supreme Soviet meets, Poland will have settled because there won't be any provocation coming from us. And the other problem will be settled too. I shall go inside and dress now.' He rose slowly to his feet, and Borisov helped him. ‘We will win,' he said. ‘Russia is not going back into the dark ages. Report to me as soon as everything is done.'