“Peaches, we are asking so nicely here. Over coffee, after beautiful music. As we offer you the delights of the flesh. Why be obstinate then? We aren’t going to offer up a name until we have a deal of some sort. A handshake will do, but there has to be something between us, not simply a gift to your curiosity.”
I thought about it, and had to admit I was curious. Who were they after, and for what? I still thought there had to be a connection between Egorov, where he was killed, and the truck hijackings. I also wondered what a Russian from the embassy had that the Chapmans wanted so badly.
“I want a cut,” I said, deciding to see where this took things.
“So do we,” Topper said grimly. I think he meant my throat, not a percentage.
“Deal gone bad?”
“All is not yet lost,” Archie said, with a stern look at his son. “There is a man who we had an arrangement with. We’re not certain if he’s done a runner. We are prepared to provide a finder’s fee if you can assist us in locating him.”
I recalled Scutt telling me that there had been no more truck hijackings recently, and I wondered if it had anything to do with the movement of Russian personnel to Dover. Did Archie think he’d been betrayed when his contact moved out, probably under secret orders? Maybe I could turn this to some benefit.
“I think I may know where he is,” I said. “But I can’t tell you.”
“What do you want?” Archie said, moving out of his chair faster than I thought he could, leaning over me. “More money, or more of the blade? Either will do the job.”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t take a message,” I said. “But it’s a military secret. A group of them moved out a couple of days ago, for security reasons. So if your boy hasn’t been in touch, it’s because he can’t get away.”
“How far away, Billy?” Topper asked, taking his father by the arm and moving him back to his chair. “Take it easy, Dad, we’ll work this out.”
“Not far. I’m supposed to go there today, as a matter of fact.”
“Is this on the up-and-up, Peaches? I’d hate to think you’d try to fool an old man.”
“Why would I? There’s no reason for me to make anything up. As you said, we each have our own concerns.”
“There’s that, yes,” Archie said, nodding to himself. “What do you want for your cut?”
“Not money. If I need some help with the Egorov business, I’ll come to you. For a favor, in exchange for the one I’ll do for you.”
“You’ll deliver a message directly to this person for us?” Topper said, clarifying the terms of the deal.
“Yes, but not a lead-pipe message. I’ll talk to him and let you know what he says as soon as I can get back. I’ll probably be able to move more freely than the Russians.” I felt a little twinge of guilt at being a messenger boy for Archie, but I thought it might help before this was over to have him owe me one. And anything I could learn about his operation wouldn’t hurt either.
“All right,” Archie said. He nodded to Topper to shut the door. Topper checked the hallway, then sat next to us. Archie nodded again, and he spoke in a low voice, keeping their secrets close.
“As you know, we’ve had a relationship with someone who provides us with the routes the delivery trucks take going to the Russian Embassy. We’ve had other dealings with him, and came to trust him, as far as that goes in this business. We were in negotiations for another exchange of information for cash. We made a down payment, and before we could complete the transaction, he dropped out of sight. The timing is right from what you just told us.”
“Without betraying any military secrets, Peaches, what can you tell us that will lend a bit more credence to your tale?” Archie broke in, trying for more than I wanted to give.
“It is directly related to military planning, so I can’t say anything else. I should get there tonight if the fog lifts.”
“Go on then,” Archie said to Topper.
“We need to be assured that plans are still set. We have not received the time and place. That’s the message. We’ve done everything on our end; now we need to know. Time and place. He’ll understand.”
“And who is he?”
“Captain Rak Vatutin. Red Army chap.”
The last and only time I’d seen Rak Vatutin, he was serving Kaz and me drinks at the Soviet Embassy. Had he been trying to get Kaz looped, in hopes he would make a fool of himself once he saw the film? There had been something nasty in Vatutin’s look, a glimpse of viciousness behind the diplomatic facade and automatic smile. But that could have been the vodka or simply his nature. I needed to find out more about what Vatutin did at the embassy, and if he’d had access to the delivery routes. And the “time and place”-but for what?
I took the Underground back to Norfolk House, wondering about Harding’s reaction when he saw that, once again, I hadn’t made it to Dover. I’d learned a few things, though. Scotland Yard was still looking for Kaz; MI5 was in the murder business and had contracted with Sheila Carlson to kill Tad, and then turned on her to eliminate loose ends; MI6, represented by Kim Philby, didn’t seem to care very much; and Major Cosgrove had acted suspiciously out of character. Did all this violate his sense of fair play? Maybe.
I’d also learned about the Eastcheap Gentleman’s Club, where Archie had female refugees from all across Europe on offer, and that Archie and Topper had something big planned, and the top-secret move to Dover had sent them into a panic, thinking they’d been betrayed. Now I was the messenger boy, my job to find Rak Vatutin and ask him what was the time and place.
It was finally time to get to Dover. All I had to do was endure Harding’s wrath, find Big Mike, and figure out what to do with Kaz while the heat died down. Then find Vatutin, figure out what the target was, and somewhere along the way find out what Egorov’s death had to do with it all.
The only thing that was guaranteed was how steamed Harding would be, but I came up empty on that one. I found Big Mike at his desk, apologetic at not finding me in Berkeley Square. I told him I’d made my way back OK, filling him in on my bordello detour.
“Sam won’t be back until late this afternoon,” Big Mike said. “He’s up at Bletchley Park, whatever that is. Something hush-hush. But you got someone waiting for you in his office. Cosgrove.”
“Interesting. Where’s Kaz?”
“I stashed him at a pub across from the Rubens. I figured he could watch for Sheila to show herself, if the fog lifts, while I waited for you.”
I filled Big Mike in about Sheila, then opened the door to Harding’s office. Cosgrove stood by the window, hands behind his back. He gave a quick glance in my direction, then brought his gaze back to the green square below.
“I thought we ought to talk, Boyle.”
“Sure, Major,” I said as I took a seat opposite Harding’s desk. It gave me a side view of Cosgrove’s face, the best I could do. “Strange bunch in your office this morning. I got the distinct impression you didn’t see eye to eye.”
“Yes. I thought the hail-fellow-well-met routine would tell you as much.”
“It did. But why bother?”
“We’ve not seen eye to eye, either, Boyle, on several occasions. But I daresay our differences have been more of style. Perhaps belief also, but sincere belief on both our parts.”
“Can’t argue that. But the way you used me in our first encounter, that never set well with me. It was more than a difference in style.”
“Damn it, Boyle, there are pawns in war, and when you first came here, that was how you were best used. And to good effect, I may add. You know what Churchill said, about the best way to protect truth in wartime? To attend her with a bodyguard of lies. You were part of that bodyguard. Sorry if that’s difficult to accept, but there it is.”
“OK, OK, I get it. It doesn’t help to debate the past anyway. Why are you here?”
“Whatever our differences, I wanted you to know that I don’t approve of the actions of the man you know as Mr. Brown. He’s gone much too far. In the past, he’s had a number of successes that have gone to his head and blinded his superiors to the utter ruthlessness of his methods.”