‘It’s bad news, Sean. She’s dead.’
An involuntary groan escaped from Sean’s mouth. ‘It must be a mistake.’
Murdock shook his head. ‘I spoke to a friend in the FBI. After a search of his files he put me in touch with the special agent dealing with her murder.’
Sean searched Murdock’s face for any hint this was a bad joke, but there was only sadness in every line of his expression. At that moment, Sean felt something go inside. He had counted so much on seeing her again, on being with her when he finished at the Section. She had survived a sniper’s bullet, and was recovering so well. He never imagined she would die. ‘How did it happen,’ he asked quietly.
‘A drive-by. Two on a motorcycle. The pillion passenger stitched her with a semi-automatic.’
Sean moved to the chair slowly and sat. He put a hand to his forehead. ‘I’ll find them Murdock.’
Murdock sat opposite. ‘No, Sean.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry mate, but they were professionals. The FBI, with all their resources, don’t stand a chance of finding them. You haven’t a hope in hell.’
Sean was quiet for a whole minute. When he spoke, his voice was a little stronger. ‘I have two things they don’t have, Murdock. Determination, and time. You probably didn’t know, but I’m leaving the Section. I have limitless determination, and now I have limitless time.’
Murdock bowed his head, unwilling for Sean to see the scepticism on his face.
‘Mr Moore?’
‘Si.’ The man’s brown eyes looked Sean over warily.
‘I hope you got my message?’
‘Yes, you are Mr Quinlan.’
‘Call me Sean, please.’ Sean held out his hand.
The man declined to shake. Instead he stood to one side to allow Sean past. ‘Come in.’ He followed Sean into the cool interior of the house. ‘Adriana,’ he shouted. ‘Come, see. It is Mr Quinlan from England.’ He showed him into a large sitting room with a sea view.
Sean stood awkwardly for a moment. ‘The view is beautiful. But how did you come to be here?’
‘You wonder why a Spanish man is living in Italy? Well, I married Adriana and she comes from Genoa.’ He turned and shouted down the hall. ‘Adriana, Mr Quinlan is here. You are keeping our guest waiting.’
He turned to Sean. ‘She has not been very well, you understand, since the news.’
A few moments later she came in, and Sean immediately noticed the resemblance. Natasha had the same eyes, the same oval face, the same silky smooth skin. Sean had no doubt this was her mother. He also noticed she had applied a small amount of fresh makeup, probably the reason for her late entrance.
When she held her hand out towards him, the gesture was familiar. He felt a sickening sensation in the bottom of his stomach. She leant forward and air-kissed his cheek, studying him for a second. ‘You know?’
Sean looked from one to the other. ‘Yes, I’m sorry.’
‘Please sit down.’ Adriana indicated the sofa and Sean sat as requested.
‘I’ve only just found out. I was away, out of contact. When I got back I tried ringing Natasha’s phone, but there was no answer.’ Sean felt his words running on. ‘A friend helped me trace her. I’m really very sorry.’
Adriana put out her hand and touched his arm. ‘It is all right, Mr Quinlan.’
‘Call me Sean.’
‘Yes. We have known for three days now. We did try to contact you.’ She glanced at her husband.
‘We did,’ confirmed Rodrigo. ‘But we had no phone number and no address.’
‘I’m sorry. Natasha did have my number, but I guess she didn’t tell you. That would be my fault. In my job I’m not supposed to give my number out to anyone.’ Sean rubbed his forehead. ‘I made an exception for Natasha. She and I were, well..’
‘Going to be married.’
‘Yes.’
Despite the sadness evident in her eyes, Adriana smiled. ‘You shouldn’t be so reserved, Sean. Of course we knew! When Natasha was here, she was full of the news. She told us you had resigned from your job to be with her.’
‘She did?’ Sean looked stunned. ‘Over the last few weeks we exchanged a few texts, and a brief call here and there. But I didn’t think she was going to accept my proposal.’
‘Oh Sean,’ responded Adriana. ‘She was so happy! She couldn’t stop talking about it, and making plans. She showed us pictures of you both in Venice.’
Sean put a hand to his forehead, covering his eyes. He sighed deeply. ‘I’m glad she was so happy. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.’
Adriana ordered Rodrigo to go and make some coffee. She got up and sat next to Sean, putting a friendly arm around his shoulders. ‘When we heard the news that Natasha had died, we were in shock. We still are. We will never get over it. I can see it came as a shock to you too.’
Sean nodded in agreement, not trusting himself to speak.
‘What we cannot understand is why she was murdered. If she died of natural causes, we could take that better.’
Rodrigo entered with a tray, and busied himself with setting out the cups on the coffee table. He looked up. ‘Do you know why, Sean?’
‘I only know what the police told me. That she was shot on her way back from work.’
‘She had been at the new company less than a week. I wondered if there was a connection between her death, and your job?’
Sean caught the look Adriana gave her husband. ‘I’ve thought of nothing else, but I don’t see how there could be. My last assignment was thousands of miles away.’
‘Nevertheless, I expect your friends or relatives might be at risk, because of what you do.’
Sean’s thoughts reeled. A familiar sense of dread returned to the pit of his stomach.
Sean’s first sight of Lomax was at Heathrow. He came hobbling through the lobby with the aid of a walking stick. He had lost a lot of weight. His complexion was pale and his eyes bloodshot.
‘You look positively fit.’
Lomax looked at Sean. ‘You look how I feel.’
‘You didn’t see a doctor?’
Lomax waved his hand dismissively. ‘Nothing they can do for me. Anyway, I need a beer.’
Sean guided him towards the car, and drove to the Filey Brigg. When they were seated, he bought a pint for Lomax and a diet cola for himself. ‘I don’t suppose you want to talk about it.’
Lomax’s eyes told him the answer. ‘Not really. If you need to know the gory details, I can’t remember most of it.’ He took a big pull, wiped his mouth and set the glass down deliberately. ‘It’s strange. For days I dreamt of doing that — drinking a pint. And now that I’m here, with one in front of me, it isn’t as I expected it. It doesn’t taste as good as I imagined. It’s as if reality has faded into the background.’
‘You’re probably still in shock. I expect they put you through the mill.’
‘I didn’t get much sleep. I do remember that — and the pain.’ Lomax took a sip of beer. ‘They forced me into stress positions for long periods. Floodlit the cell; played loud Russian marches at random intervals so I couldn’t sleep. Every two hours or so they sent guards to drag me out into the interrogation room.’
‘And I thought the Russians were more sophisticated these days.’
Lomax eyed him warily. ‘Don’t believe everything you hear. They gave me the full treatment; beatings, electric shocks, and eventually water-boarding.’
‘I’m sorry Lomax, I didn’t mean to pry.’ Sean went to the bar for another round.
‘I don’t suppose you know who was behind the interrogations?’ he asked when he returned.
‘As a matter of fact, I do. It was Zlotnik.’
Sean slammed his glass onto the table. ‘Bastard!’
‘Steady on. I’m still alive.’
‘But my girlfriend isn’t.’
‘What? Natasha died?’
‘She was murdered. A professional job, four days ago. I’ve just got back from seeing her parents. I’m going to Italy again in a week for the funeral.’
‘Oh. I am sorry.’ Lomax leaned against the seat back. ‘Ah, I see what this is about. You imagine Zlotnik might be behind it. But why would he? She was a non-combatant.’
‘She was the only person in the world who was close to me.’
‘But why would he do that? She had nothing to do with business.’
Sean swung round to look at Lomax. ‘Because we stole the one person he wanted. We took Khostov from him, and as if that wasn’t good enough, we returned for his son.’
Lomax stared at Sean. ‘But how would he know about Natasha?’ He sipped his beer. ‘Oh God, I think I’m beginning to see.’ Slowly and carefully Lomax replaced the glass on the table. ‘You believe it was me. You think I gave him her name.’
‘Did you?’
Lomax massaged his temple. ‘I don’t know Sean. In the end I lost track of the questions they asked, and what I told them. They could have asked me to dance, and I would have tried to give them a tango. I was unconscious a lot of the time, but they wouldn’t let me be. They woke me at regular intervals by pushing my head into a bucket of water and holding it there. Then they would start with the questions again, over and over until I said something. Anything.’
‘So you could have told them?’
Lomax stared out of the window, trying to recall the harrowing details. ‘There were several times when I longed for death. I told him a lot of things. I could have told him about her.’
Sean got up abruptly.
‘Where are you going?’
‘I’m going to get one more drink. And when I return you and I are going to talk.’
‘What about?’
‘About going back to Russia.’