Danilov and Cowley considered amusing themselves by going to the Metropole bar because they felt it was appropriate but didn’t, meeting in the Savoy instead.
‘You could just be right!’ greeted the American, trying to climb from his despondency, ‘I’ve put an action-this-day priority on everything.’
‘I’m certainly right about something else,’ said the Russian. It only took minutes to disclose the pressure Moscow intended imposing upon Washington.
Cowley’s initial, desperate thought was for Pauline, if the Russians disclosed who the real Moscow serial killer had been. It would destroy her: drive her from Washington, maybe even into a new identity. ‘Doesn’t anybody think of anything other than blackmail, for Christ’s sake!’
‘I don’t see how your people can resist it,’ said Danilov.
‘Nor do I,’ said Cowley. Please God don’t let them try, he thought.
It took Danilov longer to recount the rest of the meeting with the politicians.
‘Our luck can’t hold,’ insisted Cowley. Pauline could be faced with a double exposure, he thought: him and a massmurderer husband.
‘We’re committed now,’ said Danilov, equalling the insistence.
‘I’ll cable Bern we’re coming back,’ undertook Cowley. His message crossed one directed to him from Switzerland, from the case-monitoring police inspector Henri Charas, that a Swiss lawyer had made an investment enquiry about the Svahbodniy corporation.
‘Why the hell has Antipov been re-arrested?’ asked Yerin.
‘I don’t know!’ pleaded Kosov. ‘All Danilov said was there had been developments… that I was to tell you that.’
‘Get him here!’ order Gusovsky.
‘He said three or four days.’
It had to be at the investigator’s whim, Gusovksy accepted. For the moment: but only for a very limited moment. Softly, at his most menacing, the thin man said: ‘This is very serious. We want to know what’s happening. And why it’s happening. And if you don’t help us do that, the person for whom it’s going to be the most unfortunate is you.’
‘I’ll do everything I can. I really mean everything!’
‘Kosov is useless,’ insisted Yerin, after the man had left the cafe at Glovin Bol’soj.
‘We need him for the moment,’ said Gusovsky. ‘He’s our link.’
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
The second finance conference was for the Russians’ benefit, with Cowley little more than an observer, like the Swiss police inspector who travelled with them from Geneva to Bern: their practical involvement would come later. On this occasion Danilov needed guidance on the specific legal details of the anstalt, and the precise-minded Heinrich Bloch took an expert’s pleasure in expanding his earlier explanation.
At its end Danilov said: ‘So according to Swiss law, Raisa Ilyavich Serova still controls the corporation once it is unfrozen?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘And how is it unfrozen?’
‘A formal declaration from America, with whom our treaty exists, that they are satisfied the assets were not intended for or the proceeds of drug trafficking,’ recited Bloch, as if he were reading from the statute. ‘In the circumstances, there should perhaps be supportive affidavits from the Russian authorities.’
‘What if, covered by notarised authority from Raisa Serova, a new Founder’s Certificate were presented, transferring control to someone else?’
‘It wouldn’t be effective with the anstalt suspended,’ said Bloch at once. He appeared disappointed at what he believed to be Danilov’s lack of understanding.
‘What if it were no longer suspended?’
Bloch frowned. ‘The transfer would need to be additionally confirmed by her authority sworn before a Swiss notary.’
Danilov felt a jump of satisfaction. ‘So the transfer certificate by itself is insufficient?’
‘My government protects itself with the second document. A Swiss notary has to be satisfied the person surrendering the Founder’s Certificate understands they are abandoning all rights.’
‘This is always explained, at the formation of a company?’
‘It is the law that it should be done,’ said Bloch.
‘But the transfer papers, by themselves would still constitute legal documents, in court?’
‘If there were need for them to be produced,’ confirmed Bloch stiffly.
‘We’ve travelled from Moscow to hear that,’ said Danilov. And got far more into the bargain, he thought.
Bloch gave a frigid smile. ‘What has the investment enquiry got to do with this?’
‘A great deal, I hope,’ said Danilov.
‘Do you want the lawyer examined?’ offered Charas.
‘No!’ said Danilov urgently. ‘He’ll only be acting as a nominee anyway: I don’t want anything to alarm him. Or the people he’s acting for. What I do want are the transfer documents when they are presented.’
‘You are sure there is going to be an attempted transfer?’ queried the official.
‘Positive.’
‘I hope you fully understand what the regulations require.’
‘Absolutely,’ assured the Russian.
‘And they will be accompanied by the necessary legal release from Washington?’ persisted Bloch, a man for whom everything had to have a written authority. He directed the question at Cowley.
‘Yes,’ promised the American.
‘And with supporting Russian representation,’ said Danilov.
‘You any idea what could happen if anything – just one thing – gets mistimed!’ demanded Cowley, over dinner that night at their hotel. He was allowing himself wine.
‘The money isn’t at risk,’ reminded Danilov. The legal requirements precluded that particular debacle, but he wasn’t so sure about other potential disasters.
‘You think they’ll collapse and confess?’ demanded the American.
‘We’ll be lucky if they do,’ admitted Danilov.
‘It’s still supposition.’
‘I’m right,’ insisted Danilov. He was going to test another guess when they got back to Moscow the following day: one he was intentionally not sharing with Cowley. The deception worried Danilov. If he were wrong, it was something the American need never know. If he were right, Cowley would learn about it, at some time. Danilov thought he could still explain it away to convince the American he hadn’t risked their personal understanding. Or could he? What sort of man would Vasili Dolya be? He’d know soon enough. Unless Dolya tried some futile defence, it shouldn’t take long. Danilov was surprised, now they were reaching what he believed to be the conclusion of everything, how little time it was taking to slot the final pieces of the jigsaw into place. Not one jigsaw, Danilov reminded himself: several. ‘You’ll advise Washington, ahead of whatever my Foreign Ministry ask?’
‘They’re going to be one very pissed off group of people,’ predicted Cowley.
‘They’ll be happy enough in the end,’ insisted Danilov.
The guess about Vasili Dolya did prove to be right.
There was almost an hour’s delay on the return from Geneva to Moscow, and Danilov feared at one stage he would have to postpone the encounter, but they made up time during the flight, and Pavin was still waiting patiently at Sheremet’yevo. On the way into the city, he said there was a note waiting from the Justice Ministry, saying that Raisa Serova and Oleg Yasev had formally sought release from protective custody. They were being put off – as Danilov had requested – by the insistence there were arrests still to be made. Stephen Snow had relayed a message from Washington that the forensic examination on the Mikhail Antipov material would be completed within forty-eight hours.