"Well, he would be," Ivanov commented, "Luzhkov awash with vodka like he was."
Greta Bikov seemed to straighten her back, and clasped her hands together on the table in front of her. "And that, Colonel, was the last time I clapped eyes on Colonel Boris Luzhkov and Major Yuri Bounine, so help me God."
Lermov smiled. "I believe you completely, Lieutenant Bikov."
"All sins forgiven, Colonel?" she asked.
"To be frank, I would find it difficult to recommend you to any officer of rank for secretarial duties, but I will overlook that, as your misconduct has provided me with information beyond price. We are not finished yet, of course, but I think you've earned another break."
Lermov sat opposite Ivanov in a secluded corner of the officers' bar and indulged in the finest vodka to be had and cold as ice.
"Excellent," Lermov said as he drank the first one. "I really needed that."
"It surely freezes the brain," Ivanov told him. "Your threat to send her to Station Gorky for life was what did the trick. The silly girl fell for it."
"But I meant it, Peter. There is no room for empty threats in my world. People imagine physical force is always necessary to break down the subject of an interrogation."
"And you don't agree?"
"In the years of the Third Reich, the Germans were the masters of Europe from the English Channel to the Urals, and yet in Britain, where the Nazi spy system was totally destroyed, torture was unthinkable, no physical force used at all."
"So what was the secret?"
"The double-cross system. They turned spies so that their German masters thought the spies were still working for them and believed in their radio traffic."
"How did the British do that?"
"Certainly not torture, and, according to their ethos, you could never depend on any kind of physical force. Their spy catchers offered a simple choice, delivered in the English of the upper classes."
"Saying what?" Ivanov asked.
Lermov delivered his answer in English so perfect there was only the hint of a Russian accent. " ' Sorry to hear you can't help us, old man. Too bad. They'll take you back to your cell now. No point in prolonging things. You'll be hung in the prison yard at nine o'clock in the morning.' "
"Good God," Ivanov replied in reasonable English, though not as excellent as Lermov's. "They actually did that?"
"Oh, yes, the salutary-shock approach. The knowledge of that nine o'clock appointment concentrated the minds wonderfully."
"I see now where you were coming from with Greta Bikov. You scared the pants off her."
"Don't feel sorry for her, Peter. Her behavior in London was appalling. Who else has she been listening in on?" He shook his head. "She's not fit for anything as far as the GRU is concerned."
"But still is for us?"
"Of course, but let's review what we've learned so far. Boris Luzhkov, who appears to have been a drunken idiot most of the time, heard of the unexpected meeting of the Big Four and decided to cover himself with glory by arranging to have them assassinated by a man called Ali Selim whom he'd obviously dealt with frequently. I get a hunch that Bounine was not too happy about this but agreed to go along, not really having any choice. After midnight Monday morning, they met Ali Selim, the hit was set up, and they returned to the Embassy. What's the next step?"
"Bounine appeared in Luzhkov's office to ask him if he knew that Tania Kurbsky, who was supposed to be alive, had actually died of typhoid in January 2000, and Luzhkov said he didn't."
Lermov said, "Let's accept that Luzhkov genuinely didn't know that Tania was dead, which would mean Bounine didn't either, so where had he got the truth about Tania from?"
"I'd say from Kurbsky," Ivanov said. "He and Bounine were comrades in Afghanistan, he had access to Bounine's encrypted mobile phone. He phoned Bounine with news about a shooting in Mayfair. They may have been more in touch than we realize."
"And where did Kurbsky get it from?" Lermov nodded as if to himself. "But of course. Major Giles Roper, no one more qualified to unlock the secrets of cyberspace."
Ivanov smiled wryly. "I shouldn't imagine a Code 9 Restriction held up Roper for very long."
"I agree," Lermov said. "And then we have the shouting match with General Ferguson, who threatens the Embassy with reprisals and says he knows all about Kurbsky, would help him in any way he could, and mentions that the Americans were grateful he'd helped Blake Johnson. We know how valuable Johnson is to the White House. So where are we?"
Ivanov said, "I tell you one thing. I'm certain Alexander Kurbsky is out there in the hands of Ferguson and his people. Luzhkov and Bounine, I'm not sure. What do you think? You're the expert on terrorism and covert operations."
"Kind of you to say so, but I've always fancied the idea of writing a novel, and this whole business would be a thriller. Kurbsky, the gallant hero, blackmailed because the sister he thought dead is serving life, and he agrees to infiltrate the enemy elite group, his reward being her release."
"Who turns out to be dead."
"Not really very funny, when you think about it," Lermov said. "A man like Kurbsky, what would he do when he found out that he'd been used so badly?"
"Go on the warpath, I'd say."
"Of course he would, and, like you, I believe he's out there and very probably with Ferguson and his people. Bounine was his close friend, we know that, so perhaps he's gravitated to Kurbsky. Luzhkov is a total mystery still, but we can find out about this Ali Selim. It's a common name, but he probably has a record. Go and get that moving."
"And you, Colonel?"
"I'm going to have another session with Greta. I'm intrigued by this Blake Johnson business and the man in the black hood not being Dillon but Kurbsky. What's that all about? Be off with you, and you can join me when you've seen to the Ali Selim thing."
So once more to the interrogation cell, where Greta Bikov waited under the impassive gaze of Sergeant Stransky and her colleague. She was seemingly calm, and yet a nerve twitched in her right cheek, and she stirred in her chair as if uncomfortable. She made the mistake of starting before Lermov did.
"I don't think there's anything more I can tell you, Colonel. I seem to have covered everything."
"You will allow me to be the judge of that," Lermov said, and the door opened behind him, and Ivanov entered. He took up his position again, leaning against the wall.
"Everything's in order, Colonel. They're processing the Ali Selim query now. As soon as anything turns up, we'll know about it."
"I'm obliged to you, Captain Ivanov." Lermov opened his file and gave Greta his full attention. "Everything you've told us so far has made sense, though aspects of it can't be fully confirmed. Now I would like you to cast your mind back to tell us how Bounine told Colonel Luzhkov of the death of Tania Kurbsky. You said that he also referred to a man in a black hood."
"Yes, but I've already told you about that."
"Refresh my memory," Lermov said.
"He said the man in the black hood who'd saved Blake Johnson wasn't Dillon at all, it was Kurbsky, who couldn't bear the idea of someone else ending up in Station Gorky like his sister."
"And had you heard any reference to a man in a black hood before?"
"Yes, it was earlier, I think. Something had gone wrong involving two GRU guys called Oleg and Petrovich, a moronic couple who provided a little muscle when it was needed. The Embassy has a deal with a private airfield in Essex called Berkley Down. We book Falcons out of there for the Moscow run. Luzhkov told me to have one standing by on Sunday and said Oleg and Petrovich would be escorting somebody there for an onward flight to Moscow."
"And you've no idea who?"
"God, no, it was a high-security thing, but late on Sunday night when Bounine was with him I listened in."
"Why?"
"Oleg and Petrovich had phoned in from out of town asking for transport and, when they arrived, they were in a damaged state. Petrovich had an injured hand, and Oleg was holding a bloodstained rag to his right ear. They ended up in sick bay."