‘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.’
‘Before we go, would you come for a walk with me?’ Natasha’s father indicated a path.
Sean walked alongside Mr Moore, noticing their shadows beneath them. They were in the hills above Finale Ligure, with the sun high overhead. He caught glimpses of the sea and the town lower down the slopes as they wound their way through the graveyard.
Mr Moore took him gently by the arm. ‘You have been very quiet, Sean.’
‘Yes.’
‘You have hardly said anything to Adriana. I understand you are mourning, just as we are. Nevertheless, I think there is something else that makes you so quiet.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude, but I know your wife — and you — need time to grieve.’
‘You wanted to leave us with our thoughts. It is kind, and may I say, very English.’
Sean smiled briefly.
‘Perhaps you also feel responsible?’
They stopped.
‘Why?’
‘Because you were unable to prevent what happened. Because you were not with her at the end.’
Sean sighed. ‘You are very perceptive. I did — I do feel guilty.’
They resumed the walk, and Mr Moore continued. ‘I am sorry for being so abrupt when we first met. I blamed you for the death of my daughter.’
‘You don’t blame me now?’
Mr Moore’s eyes flicked briefly to Sean. ‘No. Adriana made me see sense. She said a year ago you prevented some really bad men from having her murdered.’ He faced Sean. ‘You saved her life.’
Sean nodded, not wanting to elaborate.
‘We would not have seen her, except for you. She lived another year, thanks to you.’ He grasped Sean’s shoulders. ‘So I don’t blame you, and you should not feel guilty.’ His eyes began to water.
‘But I do, no matter what you say.’
Mr Moore sighed. ‘You know it was so lovely to see her. She spoke about how you first met in the States. I have to tell you, she was not especially impressed by you, at least, to start with.’
Sean halted and turned to Natasha’s father. ‘Mr Moore, I loved your daughter. I would have done anything for her. I just regret I wasn’t there to stop her being killed.’
‘I sense your anger, Sean.’
‘Mr Moore, I am not just angry. I intend to seek justice for the man responsible.’
A look of real concern passed over Mr Moore’s face. ‘I gathered from Natasha you are an exceedingly capable individual. Are you planning to bring him to justice, or to administer it yourself?’
Sean remained silent.
Mr Moore shook his head sorrowfully. ‘No-one but her father could want more. But justice administered by the courts. It’s not your job to dispense it.’
When Sean didn’t reply, Mr Moore gestured to the church, the town below and the sea. ‘See this lovely land Sean. Is it not beautiful? Yet this country has more blood spilt because of greed and revenge. Don’t become one of those people. Please.’
They stood for a moment in silence. Finally, Sean responded. 'Mr Moore, I want to thank you and Adriana for your hospitality. But I can’t promise anything.’ He turned and made his way back down the path to the graveside.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
‘Beer?’
Lomax shook his head. ‘I’ve work to do.’
Sean appraised his Executive. He had lost the walking stick, and there was more colour to his complexion. ‘Really? We could talk here, or at the pub.’
Lomax was silent for a moment. ‘You don’t give up, do you?’
‘Right, pub it is then. Your round, I think.’
Lomax drove, and Sean was pleased to find he had regained some of his old form. They found a table, and Lomax brought the drinks over. He set the glasses down, taking in Sean’s pale complexion and listless expression, not to mention the fingers of his left hand bound with splints. ‘You still look like shit.’
‘Cheers.’ Sean raised his pint. ‘You look even worse.’
Lomax sat. ‘Listen Sean. Whatever you’re planning, you need to reconsider. You want revenge; I understand that. But this kind of thing is never done in the Service. It is strictly business only. You’re trying to make it personal, but you don’t appreciate the consequences.’
‘The Section sanctioned me to take out Zlotnik when he was in Vienna. Why shouldn’t I do it now he’s back in Moscow?’
‘Come on, Sean. The Section might have given you the nod a few months ago, but even they had to call it off when oversight found out what they were up to.’
Sean lifted an eyebrow.
‘Just imagine.’ Lomax sounded exasperated. ‘What would happen if someone in the FSB, or the FSO decided to react and go after you? The thing would soon escalate into a private war that no-one could stop. That’s why you were always taught never to take things personally.’
‘You said yourself that Natasha was a non-combatant. How personal is that?’
‘I know. But that’s all the more reason why we shouldn’t get involved.’
‘I am involved, full stop.’
Lomax took a sip of his beer and tried a different tack. ‘What about your job in the Section?’
‘What about it?’
‘Well, you like working there? Once they find out what you’re up to, they’ll hang you from the rafters. You’ll be out of there so fast you’ll be lucky to leave with a pension.’
Sean sipped his larger. ‘I don’t care. I was leaving anyway.’
‘You don’t care? Then you bloody should!’
Sean took another sip of his drink. ‘I’m finished anyway.’
Lomax drew back. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I can’t cut it any longer, Lomax. I started to get the shakes.’
‘Jesus, Sean. What are you — iron man? We all get the jitters.’
‘Not during the middle of the action.’
Lomax sat back. ‘It can happen during the action — we all get it sometime or other.’