“I understand all right.”
When he left MVD headquarters, he was at once aware of the man across the road moving casually along behind him, as indeed he had been aware of him on his way there earlier. Worth-Butters was leaving nothing to chance. The Russians would expect a tail and they mustn’t, if the Cane family was to live, be disappointed.
Shaw glanced back once more a little farther along the street. He grinned to himself. The girl student, or someone like her, was there again, strolling casually along behind the Embassy tail. Andreyev, too, was taking no chances… and like Andreyev, Shaw found that his sense of humor was nicely tickled.
There was nothing Shaw could do for the moment. He had simply to kick his heels and wait, as patiently as he knew how, for Kosyenko to return from Leningrad as per itinerary as notified by Treece. Since Conroy had booked on the Moscow coach he could be presumed to have intended operating in Moscow — or points east — in the first place. Therefore he would wait until Kosyenko returned to the capital rather than chase up to Leningrad, where, in fact, he could have gone direct by sea if he’d wanted to — with much less fuss and bother. Leningrad held no magnet for Conroy, evidently — even though Kosyenko was there. The more he thought about it the more convinced Shaw became that whatever Conroy had come to do had some connection with what was going on in the region of the Chalok River.
That evening at seven o’clock, Shaw strolled into the Moskva Hotel’s lounge. Virginia was there already, curled up in a big chair, and looking particularly attractive in a low-cut green frock. Shaw went over to her; she glanced up from the pages of a woman’s magazine she’d been riffling through and smiled at him. He asked, “What’ll you have, Virginia?”
“Thanks, I think I’ll try a champagne cocktail.”
Shaw found a waiter at his elbow. He gave his order. The man repeated, “Vodka, shempein koktel. Thank you, grazhdanin.” He gave a formal inclination of his head and turned away, his tray lifted high. Shaw sat beside the girl; they were in a small backwater, an offshoot, as it were, of the lounge proper — a retreat where they would not be overheard if they kept their voices low; and their backs were against a wall. Virginia had chosen well.
She asked, “Been busy?”
“Moderately. And you?”
She grimaced. “My job seems to have taken second place to yours, but anyway I’ve got nowhere at all. I’ve been circulating in hopes of picking up a lead on Wicks or Fawcett or both, but there’s nothing doing. Maybe they really did fall into the Pripet.”
“No luck with those contacts you talked of making, to get a line on the big boys behind the gold racket?”
“None at all. Let’s hear your news.”
Shaw gave her a summary of the day’s conversations. He added, “I discussed possible clients with Worth-Butters, and Henderson’s in the clear. Butters didn’t know anything about Wicks or Fawcett, of course, other than what was in Treece’s report. Anyway, we’re no nearer a solution.”
“What’s the next move, then?” she asked, looking at him in concern.
He hesitated, frowning. He was about to say something when he saw Hartley Henderson coming towards their table; the professor was clearly in a state of high excitement about something or other. Henderson called out, “My dear Cane… you don’t mind if I join you?”
“Of course not. Sit down and have a drink.”
“Oh — thank you very much.”
Shaw signaled the waiter and ordered more drinks. When the man had gone Henderson, who had been scarcely able to keep still, leaned forward eagerly and said, “I’ve just seen one of those men, Cane.”
Shaw’s head jerked up. “Men? Which one?”
“Wicks.” Henderson too was keeping his voice low. “At least, I’m pretty certain it was Wicks, though he seemed to have altered his appearance a little — not surprisingly, perhaps. What is surprising, isn’t it, is that he should show himself so openly?”
“It certainly is!” Shaw’s gaze swept over Henderson. “Where was he?”
“He was going into a restaurant, not far from the Kremlin.”
“Quite a risk, I’d have thought! I wonder… could you find the place again, d’you think?”
“Oh yes, most certainly.” The shaggy brows were going up and down in agitation. “It was a place called Gregor’s… a vulgar-looking place with a noisy orchestra, about half-way along a kind of alley, the third on the left going along Tavda Street from one of the squares… what was it… Boroskaya Square.” Henderson paused, biting his lip and staring at Shaw in concern. “You’re not proposing to look for him yourself, Cane?”
Shaw shrugged non-committally. “It’s not really my business, is it? I don’t want to get mixed up in things… but it did just cross my mind that we ought to tell the proper authorities.”
“Ye — es.” Henderson pulled at his lower lip. “You’re quite right, no doubt, only it does rather go against the grain to inform on a British national inside Russia, doesn’t it?”
Again, Shaw shrugged. “He’s a British national who’s caused quite a few deaths back in that smash. His own countrymen and Russians too. It’s also fairly obvious he’s deeply involved in something fishy, isn’t it? I don’t see we’ve any alternative but to report that he’s been seen, but just the same I go along with you up to a point. Look, Henderson. You’ll remember we had a talk this morning… with that in mind, I’m going to ask you to leave this with me for the time being. I’d be obliged if, in the meantime, you’d say nothing to anyone. I’m sure you understand?”
Henderson coughed and looked unhappy. He said, “Well, now. I wonder if I might have a word with you, Cane… if you’ll excuse us, Miss MacKinlay?”
Virginia said amicably, with a hint of a wink at Shaw, “Go right ahead. Leave me alone to finish my nice drink in peace.”
When Shaw came back alone, he said, “It wasn’t anything much. Henderson thought I might be trying to propitiate the people who’re threatening me, by tinning Wicks in. The idea of such a deal revolted his sheltered soul. However, he’s satisfied now — and meanwhile I think you’re earlier question is answered, don’t you?”
“Which one?” she asked.
“When you asked me what the next move was to be. It’s this: I go after Master Wicks.”
“You go after him?” she said. “What about me?”
“No, Virginia.”
“Look, you don’t give the orders—”
“Yes, I do, from now on. What I’m after is a damn sight more important than gold smuggling, and it has to be handled my way. I want you to stay right here, just in case things go wrong. If I don’t contact you within two hours I want you to ring Worth-Butters at the British Embassy — Jones is out of town — and tell him where I went, and why. Meanwhile I’m taking the Metro from Mir Avenue.” He bent and kissed her hair. “Be good — and don’t worry.”
Nineteen
Shaw turned out of the bustle of Boroskaya Square into the comparative quietness of Tavda Street, where the crowds were thinner. He was aware of the KGB tail behind him, threading her blunt and unattractive way in and out of the pedestrian traffic. She was dressed differently now and had shed her leather bag. He couldn’t identify anyone who might be the tail from the Embassy. He walked on unhurriedly. Some way along, at the third turning to the left he glanced casually down a narrow, sordid-looking street. Towards its end, there was a garish colored facade from which, as a door opened, there came the distant throb of loud music. That would be Gregor’s, though from where he was Shaw could see no name displayed.