Dillon said, Show me a picture of him on your computer.
Happy to oblige. There is one thing I wanted to run by you. The name Bell. Ive come across one. A Liam Bell, once Chief of Staff to the PIRA, in the Maze Prison for some years. Retired some time ago. Lives in Dublin?
The schoolteacher? Dillon said. Thats what they used to call him. He was retired years ago. I thought he was dead.
Dillon thought about it some more and said to Ferguson, If Roper can give Billy the details on Bell, you could send him over in the plane from Farley Field tomorrow. See if hes around. Is that okay with you, Billy?
Sure, but what about you?
Things Id like to check out here. Is that all right, Charles?
Ill make the arrangements.
Miles away in Siberia, in his suite in a hotel on the Station Gorky development, surrounded by snow, Max Zubin spoke to his mother, Bella, in Moscow. She was as vivacious as usual, slightly loud.
What are they doing to you?
Not much. Shaved my beard.
I bet you look ten years younger.
What about you?
They treat me well. I have a big black car with a driver. He hangs around downstairs. I can go anywhere. The supermarket, the theater, the Bolshoi.
Well, you couldnt exactly run away. Theyve got me.
And theyve got me, too, so you cant run away. Whats going to happen, Max?
I dont know. Volkov spoke to me yesterday. He said I might have to turn up in Moscow again and play my part.
Well, whatever else you are, youre a fine actor, my son.
From you, thats the ultimate compliment. I love you, Mama.
And I love you, my son. God bless.
Ferguson spoke to Blake and brought him up to speed. Theres something going on here and we dont know what it is.
Blake said, The name Bell, Ive got that right, no question.
Well, were all on the case now.
Im not sure what I can do, but Ill speak to the President.
When Blake went into the Oval Office a few minutes later, Cazalet was by the fire, smoking a cigarette, Murchison, his flat-coated retriever, at his feet. The dog was the most intelligent Blake had ever known. Hed often suspected it of talking to the President. On a famous occasion, it had hurled itself at a waiting assassin and saved Cazalets life. Clancy, as usual, hovered.
Well, Ive said it before, Blake, but youre a remarkable man. Three members of the Provisional IRA, one dead and two down? Amazing!
They were going to give me the deep six off a fishing boat, Mr. President. I decided otherwise.
Cazalet said, Clancy, scotch and soda. Can you believe this?
Absolutely, Mr. President. If you can get a Navy Cross in Vietnam at twenty-one, that means you can handle yourself.
Hell, you did the same thing in ninety-one in Iraq, Blake said. Mind you, Iraq was pussy.
Excuse me, sir, but I might just spill your drink.
Oh, you wouldnt do that to a superior officer, Sergeant Major.
Stop the war games, weve all been there. Cazalet toasted Blake. Ferguson is right. Superintendent Bernstein murdered, you attacked, Major Roper. There seems to be a vendetta against Fergusons group. Do you think I should speak to the Prime Minister?
Theres not much he can do, Mr. President. I suspect that, as usual, its all down to Dillon.
Well, good luck to him, and Cazalet toasted Blake again.
Levin phoned Ashimov at Drumore Place and got Greta first. How are you doing? she asked.
Bloody awful. He told her what had happened.
Not so good.
Wheres Ashimov?
Playing snooker with Bell. He left me the phone. Said he didnt want to be bothered.
Oh, dear, lets hope Blake Johnson doesnt appear on the scene again.
I wouldnt mention that if I were you. Ill transfer you.
Ashimov said, So, whats happening?
Levin went into detail, finding he was rather enjoying it.
Ashimov said, This isnt good, Captain. You disappoint me.
Well, the bloody IRA must have disappointed you with their botched job on Bernstein and their total incompetence in the Blake Johnson affair. The idiots I used for Roper were on your list. The Salters Bentley was just bad luck.
Youre making excuses, Ashimov roared.
Take it up with Volkov. I have. When Ive something to say, Ill phone. Good-bye. He put the phone down.
Dillon stayed on with Billy, had a cup of tea in the kitchen while Roper worked away at his computer. They went to check on him when he called out, Have I got news for you!
They found him at his computer bank, and on the screen was Igor Levin.
So, who is he? Dillon asked. A Russian?
Oh, a strange hybrid.
Roper went on to describe Levin in detail.
When he was finished, Dillon said, So, hes appointed as a commercial attaché at the Russian Embassy. We all know what that means.
What? Billy asked.
In the old days, KGB, Roper said. But our boy is GRU, Russian Military Intelligence. Flew in two days ago. Staying at the Dorchester.
Hes what? Dillon said, and gasped. Christ, Ive seen him there in the Piano Bar. He was at the mortuary. He was even at the Dark Man.
But the Dorchester? Billy said. The Russians must be paying their agents well.
No, Billy, Roper said. Hes a rich man in his own right. His fingers danced on the keys. His father was a military attaché at the London Embassy, his mother English, his grandmother Irish. Is there no end to him?
Apparently not, Dillon said.
Big war hero, languages. Christ, he went to Westminster School for a few years.
A man of parts. Dillon nodded. Billy, would you take me round to my place at Stable Mews? I do believe I have a staff passkey for the Dorchester. Well pay his suite a visit.
Not without me, you wont, Roper said. A hotel as outstanding as the Dorchester doesnt give out room numbers to anyone. I, on the other hand, can penetrate most systems. His fingers danced again. Six-ten, he said.
Well see you later, Dillon said, and he and Billy left.
At the hotel, they checked the Piano Bar and had a stroke of real luck. Levin was at a corner table having some sort of pasta and a glass of champagne, listening to a trio playing jazz at the end of the room.
Move it, Dillon said, and they hit the lift fast and went upstairs.
The corridor was long, the carpet luxurious. Dillon had the key ready in his hand, pushed it in the electronic lock when they reached 610. The green light came on, the door opened automatically.
Fast, Dillon said. Bedroom, check if the safe in the wardrobes in use. Ill do the sitting room.
He went one way, Billy the other. The sitting room was the height of luxury, but having stayed in such rooms at the hotel before, Dillon knew what to expect. It was like staying in a fine English country house. There was a large TV screen on the wall, a cabinet with video, a copier, a computer link, he knew that. But there was more. A spectacular piece of luck Levins briefcase.
Billy, he called, got the briefcase open, rummaged around and found the envelope containing the Putin warrant. A Russian speaker, it made perfect sense to Dillon.
Jesus, Billy, Vladimir Putin and his team sorted it for him.
The bloody Russian President, Billy said. If you nick it, hell know.
No need. Theres a copier in the cabinet. He ran the warrant through, folded the copy and put it in his pocket, put the other in the envelope and returned it to the briefcase. Out of it, fast.
Which they did, running down the stairs at the far end instead of using the lift. In the car, Billy did the driving and Dillon phoned Ferguson.
Well meet back at Holland Park, Dillon said.
What the hell for?
The most astonishing thing youll have seen in years. Trust me.
In the computer room at the Holland Park safe house, they ranged around Roper and his screens.
So, Levin is posted to London as a commercial attaché, Roper said.
With one hell of a warrant to back him up and signed by Putin himself, Dillon said. Couldnt you do something about that, Charles? Speak to head of Station?
Theyd claim diplomatic immunity, and in theory, what, after all, does the letter say? It refers to the bearer, not a specific individual. No, I dont think it would wash. You cant even prove what it refers to.
I must say I agree, Roper said. And I dont think well get anywhere with Moon and his chum. Sticking to their mugging story keeps them out of court because Ive got to keep to my story. Keeps me out of court, too, if you take my point.
Right, Ferguson said. At least Levin doesnt know were onto him. Ill leave him in your hands, Sean, while you, young Salter, make for Farley Field in the morning and head for Dublin. Any questions?
Not really, Dillon said. I just want answers.
7
The Citation X landed at Dublin Airport mid-morning and taxied to the diplomatic arrivals section. Billy, Lacey and Parry had been through a lot together in the past on Fergusons behalf. As they walked to the arrivals section, Lacey spoke.
Im usually dropping you on some beach at night in deep trouble. I sense something different.
Billy produced his warrant card. The General needs a replacement for Hannah. Im it for the moment.
Good God.
Yes, well, what you see is what you get. I shouldnt be too long.
What can I say? Good luck.
Billy moved on, produced his passport at reception. There was nobody around except a man in a raincoat, maybe forty, smoking a cigarette, a scar on one cheek which to someone of Billys expertise had been made by a broken bottle. The girl at the desk handed him back his passport.
Ah, Mr. Salter, your fame precedes you. Hows Sean Dillon these days? asked the man.
Up and running, Billy told him. Who might you be?
Jack Flynn, Detective Chief Inspector, Special Branch. I go back a long way with Dillon. You might say Im an admirer. Ive heard the whispers about you and him in past years, so when one of Fergusons planes comes in with the one passenger, and its you, I wonder.
You mean, whats a well-known London gangster doing here?
In one of Fergusons planes is the point.
Billy took out his warrant card. Flynn said, Holy Mother of God, that I should see the day.
We lost part of Fergusons team, Superintendent Bernstein.
Ive heard. She was an outstanding officer. Helped us out in the Garda, many times.
What you havent heard is that her death was no accident. She was helped on her way, if you follow me.
Flynns face was like stone. Youre saying someone topped that lovely woman? Who would do a thing like that?
Billy thought about it, wondered what Dillon would have done and knew it would never be the obvious thing, and in this case it would be to talk to Flynn. But there was something about Flynn, and if Billy knew about anything in this life, he knew about coppers.