‘Of course it’s personal,’ said Grechko. ‘The dogs in the Kremlin hate my guts. They hate anyone who is richer than they are.’
‘We don’t think it has anything to do with the Russian government,’ said Button patiently. ‘What the killer is doing indicates that he is on a personal mission rather than being paid to kill.’
Grechko threw up his hands. ‘You’re talking in riddles, woman,’ he said contemptuously. ‘A sniper almost took off my head. How can that not be a professional hit?’
‘Have you ever paid for someone to be killed, Mr Grechko?’ asked Button quietly.
Grechko’s eyes hardened and his jaw clenched as he stared at her. ‘I would be very careful about making allegations like that, Miss Button,’ he said eventually. ‘Your prime minister is a good friend. He would not be pleased to hear that you have made an accusation like that.’
‘I was speaking hypothetically, Mr Grechko. Because if, hypothetically, you were hiring an assassin, would you hire one who could not do the job properly? Of course you wouldn’t. And I am equally sure that if the Russian government was using an assassin, they would use the best. There have been a number of very successful assassinations of Russians in the UK over the last few years, as I’m sure you know.’
Grechko nodded slowly. ‘You are saying that the man who tried to kill me is not a professional?’
Button shook her head. ‘No, that’s not what I’m saying. But I am saying that if a professional sniper wanted to put a bullet in your head, it’s quite a stretch to shoot a bodyguard in the leg instead.’ She leaned forward. ‘We are starting to think that the sniper intended to shoot the bodyguard. He did that for two reasons. To scare you. And to force you to increase your security arrangements.’
‘Scare me? You think I am scared?’
Button shrugged. ‘If you know that someone is trying to kill you, you would obviously be apprehensive, wouldn’t you? And what did you do immediately after the attempt on your life?’
‘I beefed up security.’
‘You hired more people?’
‘Of course. But not out of fear, Miss Button. Do I look like I’m shaking in my shoes?’ He held out his hands, palms down. ‘See, no trembling. I am not a man who scares easily.’ He sat back and folded his arms, then he slowly frowned. Button said nothing, knowing that it would be better if he worked it out for himself. His eyes widened and he put his hand up to his jaw. ‘He wanted me to increase my security?’
‘We think so, yes,’ said Button quietly. ‘We think it is possible that he has put his own person on your team. Somebody who is feeding him intel so that the next attempt doesn’t fail.’
Grechko pointed at Shepherd. ‘I already told him I won’t be a Judas goat,’ he said. ‘I will not be bait in a trap.’
‘There is no trap, Mr Grechko,’ said Button. ‘This is an on-going investigation. So far I have cross-referenced the security teams of all four of you and there are no common denominators.’
Grechko scowled. ‘OK, let’s assume that what you’re saying is true. That the sniper didn’t want to kill me, he only wanted to scare me so that I would hire more bodyguards. Why go to all that trouble? Why not just shoot me at Stamford Bridge? He knew where I’d be, he had a clear shot, why not do it then?’
Button looked across at Shepherd. He was watching her carefully and she flashed him a quick smile before looking back at Grechko. ‘Because for the killer it’s personal. He wants you to know who he is. You’ve done something to this man, something that he wants to punish you for.’
Grechko ran a hand through his hair. ‘Where have you got this idea from, Miss Button?’ he said. ‘It seems to me that you’ve been watching too many James Bond movies.’
Button picked up her briefcase and swung it on to her lap. She clicked the locks open and took out an A4 manila envelope. She put the briefcase back on the floor and slid three photographs out of the envelope and lined them up on the coffee table. Grechko walked back to the sofa and sat down. He put his head in his hands as he stared at the photographs.
‘Oleg Zakharov, Yuri Buryakov, Sasha Czernik. All three men were friends, and business contacts.’
It wasn’t a question but Grechko nodded and said, ‘Yes.’
‘All three are now dead.’
Grechko put up his hand to stop her. ‘Sasha had a heart attack.’
‘He was, as you say, forty-five and had no history of heart problems.’
‘He was overweight,’ said Grechko. ‘Fat.’
‘But according to his physician, his heart was healthy, his cholesterol levels were well within the normal range and his blood pressure was fine.’
‘You checked?’
Button smiled and nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I checked. There was no reason for Mr Czernik to have had a heart attack. But there are a number of chemicals which if injected are perfectly capable of mimicking the effects of a heart attack.’
‘There was an autopsy. They would have found a poison.’
‘Not necessarily,’ said Button. ‘There have been a number of Russian deaths in the UK over the past year or so which have been suspicious but which have shown nothing untoward during the post-mortems.’
‘The same killer, you think?’
‘No, not at all. I’m just pointing out that it’s possible to kill someone by inducing a heart attack and leaving no trace.’ She gave him a second or two to absorb what she had said before continuing. ‘We have made further enquiries into the deaths of Mr Czernik, Mr Zakharov and Mr Buryakov,’ she said. ‘In each case, within the week following their deaths, a bodyguard died. One from what appeared to be a heart attack, one crashed his car into a tree, and one died in what appeared to be a street mugging. All three of those bodyguards had taken their posts when security was increased.’
Button sat back and waited for the information to sink in. Shepherd could see that the Russian was having difficulty processing what he’d been told. He kept looking at Button, then at the floor, then back to Button, as the creases in his forehead deepened. ‘He has inside information,’ said Grechko eventually. ‘That’s how he kills them. And then he kills the people on the inside. He knows their security details, he knows everything?’
‘It looks that way, yes.’
Grechko sat back and ran his hands through his hair. ‘So what do we do? If you’re right, the killer already has his man on my team.’
‘Or woman,’ said Shepherd.
Grechko looked over at Shepherd. ‘Woman?’
‘Alina Podolski joined your team after the sniping incident,’ said Shepherd.
‘She came highly recommended,’ said Grechko.
‘By whom?’
‘Dmitry,’ said Grechko. ‘He said he’d worked with her.’ He turned back to Button. ‘You haven’t answered my question. What do we do? Do I dismiss my whole team and bring in a new one?’
‘There’s no guarantee that the killer wouldn’t have his own man – or woman – on the new team,’ said Button. ‘At least now we know we have a relatively small pool of suspects to work on. We’re assuming that everyone on your security team prior to the sniping is clean. So we only have to look at the new arrivals, of which there are …’ She looked over at Shepherd.
‘Six,’ he said.
‘So we have six possible suspects.’
‘I want them out of the house now,’ said Grechko. He made a fist of his right hand and pounded it into his left. ‘Actually, I’ve a better idea, let Dmitry work on them, he’ll find out who the traitor is.’
Button held up her hands, a look of dismay on her face. ‘That would be absolutely the wrong thing to do,’ she said. ‘It would immediately tip off the killer and he would vanish.’