As soon as she left the room, Victor Peters asked: “What are you involved in, Marina?” And he did not really believe her when she tried to explain her the online meeting with the Russian and his arrival on the ship in Portsmouth a couple of days earlier. He knew his daughter well enough to realise that she was not telling him the whole story. As they skirted around the matter, she, in turn, began to suspect, for the first time, that there was something more to her father’s contact with the Russian Embassy.
“This is not just a budding romance then, is it?” he asked.
“I had never actually spoken to the man before he arrived here,” she replied insistently. “And then we were picked up by the police just a few hours later after I had shown him around Portsmouth. I haven’t seen him since. What did the Russian embassy say to you?”
“They asked me if I had seen the newspaper story and whether I had talked to you about it.”
“So how did they know where to find you? The paper did not mention you at all.”
“Well, I expect I am on their records somewhere because of our Russian connections. The man who called said his name was Jack and he just wanted to talk to me about what they had read and then he offered to drive me to Portsmouth to see you.”
“Why would you be on their records, Dad? You’ve never had any reason to be in touch with them over the years, have you?”
“No, of course not,” he replied – rather unconvincingly, Marina thought, just as David and Admiral Mann came into the room.
“Sorry to interrupt, but there seems to have been a change of plans,” said David. “The Russian Embassy people are very anxious to talk to you, Marina, and they have even sent a couple of their spooks to Portsmouth today to find you. The press are still looking for you, as well, and the local police say this is now out of their hands and that the MI5 people in London are calling the shots. They want to keep you both under wraps for the time being and I understand that the police are now arranging cars to drive you both back to London, maybe even later this evening, and they will then look after you both. I am waiting for another call with more details.”
Marina and her father looked at each other, saying nothing for a while. Then Mr. Peters suddenly broke the silence. “But I’ve got a return train ticket,” he protested.
“That’s being silly, Dad,” said Marina. “This all sounds a bit more serious than I thought… I think we really have no alternative but to go along with it.”
“That would be my advice, too,” said David. “But remember that we are here to help you and we also have good contacts with lawyers in London who can be briefed to meet you there if you need them.”
Admiral Mann looked bewildered by all that he had just heard and asked how he could help. The answer was “not much, but thanks anyway.” And a few minutes later, Jeremy arrived with the much-travelled cardboard box, and Marina was reunited at last with her laptop and her mobile phone – but was unsure what to do with them. Also, if she was going to London, she said she would need to collect some further belongings from her Southsea flat.
When DS Maggs called David again, he had more information about the logistics. It had now been decided to send the two police cars to London at about 8 pm – one would pick up Mr. Peters and take him back to his home, and the other would take Marina, with an escort, direct to MI5 HQ. He added that they were also finding her a room in London for the night.
The two police cars created a little interest for the neighbours as they arrived at the Barclay-Smith home in Old Portsmouth. But there was not much to see as they quickly loaded their respective passengers after Marina and her father had exchanged a parting hug – but no further words. They all thanked the Admiral Mann rather hurriedly for all his help and Marina also had a hug for a somewhat bewildered Betty. David was as positive as ever and reassured the group that everything would be fine. Jeremy offered to drive Betty back to her home, just a mile away – and within a couple of minutes, all the cars had driven away and a quiet evening descended on Old Portsmouth again.
It had been agreed that Marina’s driver and the accompanying escort would stop first at her flat in Southsea and that together they would be able to safely ignore any press or even Russians who might still be hanging around. When they arrived at the flat, all was quiet apart from one reporter sitting in his car outside. He watched a police officer follow Marina into the block with her overnight bag and her cardboard box. Once inside, she put her laptop back on her desk and the mobile phone in her handbag, pleased to be reunited with it again. Then she quickly packed a small wheelie suitcase with some additional clothes and toiletries, locked her door and then knocked on her neighbour’s door to say she would be gone for a few days. They were soon speeding up the A3 to London, quickly losing the one press car which tried to follow.
16.
THE “SAFE” FLAT
As the first of the two police cars sped up the A3 and M3 towards London, Victor Peters called his wife Shona to reassure her that all was well and that he was returning by car. He gave her an approximate time of arrival, and as she watched for the car, she was alarmed to see him being dropped off by the police. She wanted to know the whole story, but firstly told him: “Before I forget, that Russian fellow from the embassy rang again, and he wants you to call him back as soon as possible.”
Victor told her that the Russian could wait, and over a late supper, he described his day – or as much of it as he thought necessary. Shona had already seen most of the details in the newspaper and on the TV news, and the most important thing for her was to know that Marina’s part in the story was entirely innocent. Victor explained that she was being kept away from the press until she was able to give evidence against the Russian spy. He told his wife that Marina had also travelled to London separately that evening in another police car and was being looked after safely.
“That Russian must have taken advantage of her friendly nature,” said Shona after thinking about the situation. “But it was a bit careless of her to get involved with him, anyway. There must be lots of nice men out there looking for friendship without getting mixed up in all this. Do you think she knew she was taking a chance?”
“Well,” said her father, sadly, “I think it was the Russian thing that got her interest – you know, my family links and all that, which are quite important to her. But she’s a big girl now, making her way in the world, doing an important job and looking after herself. Now, what number do I ring to speak to that Russian?”
It was a mobile number, written by Shona on the message pad, so Victor went to his desk in the study and made the call, which was answered immediately
“Sorry to call you so late,” he began. “This is Victor Peters. I understand you have been in touch again, and I thought it might be urgent.”
“Yes, where are you?” came the reply.
“At home. Why are you calling me?”
“We have been reading about your daughter Marina in the newspapers and I thought we had better have a chat. Do you know where she is? We would very much like to contact her.”
“No, not really. I have been to Portsmouth today to see her. She’s fine but just a bit involved in this incident with one of your navy people. What’s your name, and can I call you again on this number if I get any further news?”
“Just call me Jack. I am at the Russian embassy, and I think we should meet up as soon as possible. When can we get together?”
“Leave it with me – I’ll call you again in a day or two.” Victor hung up and told his wife, “I just spoke to that Russian who rang earlier. He is at the embassy and taking an interest in this business about the Russian officer and Marina, and he wants to meet me for a chat. I think it will wait until after the weekend. I’m very tired. Let’s get some sleep.”