Close Call

Chapter 14

‘What are we waiting for?’ Martin Seurat demanded.

Isabelle sighed. Martin had seemed edgy throughout the flight from Paris. Normally a calm man, he had barely sat still, crossing and uncrossing his legs, folding and unfolding a copy of Le Monde. Isabelle had tried to divert him by asking about his daughter, now studying at the Sorbonne and the apple of her father’s eye, but he had cut off the conversation and stared moodily out of the plane window.

Now sitting in the BfV conference room with Isabelle and the German investigating officer, his tension was even more obvious. She sensed that Martin’s excitement at the prospect of finally getting his hands on Antoine Milraud was dwarfed by his fear of letting the man slip through his fingers.

Seurat went on, ‘We know where Milraud is, so why don’t we arrest him at once? If we hang around he’ll disappear again. We don’t know whether he saw the surveillance last night but he obviously suspected something in Paris. It sounds as if his wife, Annette, has joined him here; he must have contacted her, told her to change hotels, and to use a different name. He’s clearly thinking we’re not far behind him. There’s no problem with the warrant, so let’s get on with it before they vanish.’

The German said mildly, ‘We can do that, of course. If that’s what you want.’ He looked pointedly at Isabelle, as if to say, This is your problem, not mine.

‘Martin, you know as well as I do that we are not the only people interested in Milraud,’ said Isabelle. ‘And we’ve only found him at all because of the information we got from the British. At the very least, we need to consult them before making an arrest.’

Seurat was shaking his head, more from frustration than disagreement. He looked at the German. ‘Is that what you think?’

The German frowned and shrugged his shoulders. He was a youthful-looking man, a classic German with light blonde hair and pinkish skin which was turning red as he tried to follow the argument between his two French ­visitors. ‘Well, as I said, it’s really up to you. We have no information against the man but the warrant is outstanding, and the request to help came from your country.’ He paused. ‘The matter is complicated by the fact that he is not alone.’

Seurat said impatiently. ‘There’s a warrant out for his wife as well. She’s helped that bastard every step of the way.’

The German acknowledged this with a nod, but said firmly, ‘Nevertheless, since other countries’ services are involved, I would feel more comfortable knowing they agreed with the action we decide to take.’

Seurat looked exasperated, but when he turned to Isabelle there was resignation in his eyes. ‘All right. Ring London. Let’s talk to Liz.’

Liz Carlyle was at her desk in Thames House when the call came through from Berlin. She had heard about the German surveillance from Isabelle the previous evening, when she’d arrived back from Paris. So she knew that Milraud and Annette had changed names and hotels and that they must suspect that their pursuers were not far behind.

Now Isabelle explained the dilemma. ‘Martin is keen to go in now and arrest the pair of them, but I felt we must consult you first. If we do arrest him he’s most unlikely to talk about what he’s doing here and you’ll lose your lead to his contacts. What do you think, Liz?’

Martin Seurat was tapping his fingers on the top of the conference room table and he suddenly leant forward and spoke into the speakerphone. ‘Liz, you know that Milraud has broken French law in too many ways to list. Larceny, kidnapping, conspiracy to murder. These aren’t trivial offences. We at the DGSE want to see him extradited and put on trial, and who can blame us?’

Isabelle said, without looking at Martin, ‘He’s a big fish all right. And of course we have our national priorities. But perhaps we need to take a wider view.’

Isabelle sensed that Martin was bristling. He ignored her raised placatory hand, and said, with indignation in his voice, ‘What you call our national priorities ignores the fact that Milraud has been involved in arms deals all over Europe. Indirectly, he’s killed people on at least three continents. It also ignores the fact that Milraud was instrumental in kidnapping an MI5 officer in Northern Ireland, and bringing him to the south of France. If we hadn’t moved in, I doubt very much that that officer would still be alive.’

Isabelle said calmly, ‘But there may be other sharks swimming with him that we can catch. That’s what you think, Liz, as I understand it. And the Americans too. Is that not correct?’

To Isabelle’s relief, Liz Carlyle broke in, her tone brisk but conciliatory. ‘I have something to propose. But first let me ask our German colleague, are you confident of keeping Milraud under surveillance?’

Isabelle thought, can a fish swim? No intelligence officer worth his salt would say no to that question. Where was Liz going with this?

The German replied stiffly, ‘Of course.’

‘Good,’ said Liz, ‘then I advise the following: we keep tabs on Milraud, and obviously his wife as well. But if he goes off to meet anyone connected with his activities in Paris, it seems to me very unlikely that Annette will go with him. He wouldn’t want to involve her or expose her to the risk. I’m sure she knows exactly how he makes his living, and we know that when he escaped from us in the south of France several years ago, it was with her help. But I can’t believe she’s actively involved in his deals, whatever they are.’

‘So?’ asked Seurat impatiently.

Liz said patiently, ‘So, if he goes out and leaves her in the hotel, then that should be the time for you, Martin, to go in. After all, you know the woman well, don’t you?’

‘I do.’

‘So you can work on her. You can explain that if she tells us who Milraud is working with, and helps us move up the ladder of this deal, then we can see that things don’t go too hard on her. Or her husband.’

‘I’m not prepared to promise that. I want things to go hard for the bastard.’

‘Martin. It’s up to you what you say. We all know you won’t have any influence over what happens to them when they’re arrested.’

There was silence while all the participants considered this. At last Seurat stirred. Leaning towards the speaker on the table he said, ‘All right, Liz. You win – you, and the Americans. But let’s not lose him, OK? Nothing personal, but he’s caused me a lot of trouble. I couldn’t bear it if he had the chance to cause any more.’