“Yes, we know Marina… been here two or three years… a lovely lady… very friendly… single, we think… works for the Navy in the Dockyard… haven’t seen her for a day or two… goes off sometimes to her family in London… don’t think she has a special boyfriend.” And then, from one or two of the neighbours, came the unanswered question: “Why do you want to see her?”
As more reporters arrived, Gary agreed to take a couple of them to Betty’s flat, only to discover when they arrived that Marina’s friend had gone out. He told them she was a nurse at the local hospital, and they all went off to the hospital in search of her, but without success.
Another group of reporters was ‘camped out’ with their TV cameras at the police station and they learned that a photographer from the Herald had been there that morning in time to get a distant shot of the big black car leaving with a man thought to be the Russian in just visible in the back seat, accompanied by a driver and one other man in the back of the car. Their bosses in London were soon calling the Herald to buy rights to this first important picture. When Marina was driven out later, she was unseen as the unmarked vehicle emerged from an underground car park at the rear of the police station.
There was still no statement or interview forthcoming from the Chief Constable or CID chief during the afternoon – only the brief facts in the statement from the Foreign Office. It was the same at the Dockyard, where no-one at the Commodore’s office was willing to be interviewed. Facts were scarce. But from the public part of the Dockyard, the three Russian ships could be seen moored at the jetty, providing the background for a TV reporter to introduce his report to camera for the evening news:
“This is where the mystery of the Russian naval officer began yesterday afternoon. As he came ashore from one of those three ships behind me, the Admiral Essen, he met a woman who it is believed was waiting for him on the dockside. Plain clothes police were watching their movements and later in the day they were both detained at a flat in nearby Southsea. Since then, they have both been at a Portsmouth police station. According to local sources, they are still there and have been interviewed by officers who arrived by car from London, thought to be from MI5….”
9.
THE LAWYER
Marina felt trapped in her flat and badly needed advice on what she should do next. She had another short conversation with her father and a reassuring chat with her mother. Then she rang her supervisor’s number at the Dockyard offices and had to leave a message. She called Betty and advised her not to come to the apartments because of the posse of reporters waiting at the door. She decided to give Betty a few more facts about the reasons for the press and police interest and her online friendship with a Russian. Betty was, in turn, alarmed and sympathetic, and they agreed to stay in touch.
Marina thought she should switch on her TV. She found the 24-hour news channel and was shocked to see that the Portsmouth “spy story” was the headline news. She was even more alarmed to suddenly see a live report coming from outside her own flat. It was an out-of-world experience that made her head spin again. And then she jumped with fright as there came a knock on her door.
She relaxed a little when she peeped through the eye-hole and saw it was her friendly but elderly neighbour, Mrs. Watkins. She quickly let her inside.
“I didn’t know you were here,” she said, “but then my next-door neighbour told me she thought she saw you come home in a police car, so when I could just hear that your TV was on, I thought I had better come in to see if you are all right.”
“Thank you so much,” said Marina. “Let me switch off the TV… it is so good of you because I am being a nuisance to everyone with these reporters outside and ringing the doorbells. I am so sorry….”
“I don’t want to pry,” said Mrs. Watkins, “but I don’t really understand what is going on. Why are they all here? Can I make us a cup of tea?”
She went to Marina’s kitchen to make two mugs of tea and when they sat down, Marina began to explain. “You have probably heard about these websites on the computer where you can make new friends. Well, it all began when I made contact with a very nice man who turned out to be an officer in the Russian navy. He seemed very friendly and when he said his ship was visiting Portsmouth, I agreed to meet him. You know I work in the Dockyard offices, don’t you? Well, I knew when this ship was arriving and went to try to find him yesterday. When he came ashore, we met up and decided to spend the day together looking around the city and we came back here for coffee. Then suddenly, the police were here and they took us both away to the police station. And I never saw him again.”
She started to cry and sipped her tea as Mrs. Watkins thought for a few moments. “I don’t really understand all this computer stuff, so perhaps you will show me one day. But don’t get upset. I’m sure it will all work out all right. Things usually do, you know.”
Marina then continued: “Well, the police asked me over and over again last night and today about why I was meeting him and how much I knew about him – so he must have been involved in something I didn’t know about. They refused to tell me what it was. I got a bit upset, and it was all very tiring, and they didn’t let me come home until midday today. Actually, that reminds me that they did get me a young solicitor to advise me. I think I had better ring him soon to find out what I should do next.”
“Well, my dear, you weren’t to know, were you?” said Mrs. Watkins. “All that must be why I had a young reporter from the Herald here earlier asking for you. I had no idea what to say, so I gave him the number of your friend Betty in case she knew where you were. I hope you don’t mind, but it was the only number I had. Don’t worry, dear, I don’t expect those reporters will hang around long if you don’t want to talk to them.”
Mrs. Watkins gave her younger neighbour a warm hug as she left, and Marina found Jeremy Scott’s card. She called his direct line number and he answered at once.
“Hello, Marina. I didn’t ring you because I thought you might be resting after all that,” he began. “But when I saw the TV news, I thought we needed to talk again when you are ready. When can you come over to our offices? I want you to meet one of our senior partners who has more experience of this sort of thing. He will be here, probably until about seven. When would be a good time?”
“Well, I am a bit tired,” said Marina. “And there’s a crowd of reporters and TV cameras outside the flats, and I don’t think I can face them. In any case, I am not supposed to talk to them, and I don’t know what to say.”
“Oh dear,” replied Jeremy. “Look, you stay there, and we will come over to your flat. If necessary, we will say something to keep the press happy. Then it might be better if you came away with us and brought your things so that you could go somewhere quiet until this all dies down. Is there anywhere you can go?”
Marina was in a quandary. “My best friend here in Portsmouth has already had the press visiting her flat, so I had better not go there. Let me think about it. I can’t think of anyone else off-hand; I could go to my parents in London, but I don’t really want to get them involved.”