The wolf at the door

6

What Lermov found when he went downstairs to the cell block was pure theater. The two female police sergeants were supremely menacing as they stood on each side of the door, Ivanov had a look of the SS about him, and Greta Bikov seemed terrified as he walked in.

Ivanov saluted. "Reporting as ordered, Colonel," he barked. "With Lieutenant Greta Bikov." He turned to her. "On your feet."

She managed to stand, trembling with fear, pretty enough, with tightly bound blond hair, undeniably attractive in uniform. One could understand her appeal to most men. Luzhkov had probably found her irresistible. Her face told it all, a touch of the Slav to it.

She sat there, shaking a little, confronted by this highly unusual man, someone with the gravitas of a scholar, a university professor perhaps, the world-weary face of a man who had seen most things that life had to offer and had long since ceased to be amazed.

She took a deep breath, which seemed to steady her a little. My God, she's assessing him, Ivanov thought, trying to make sense of what kind of man he is, but it's his rank that's giving her pause for thought. Full colonel. Then the medals, including the one for bravery under fire when he volunteered for that Spetsnaz job in Iraq. Nothing comes higher than that. She tried a shy smile, and Ivanov felt like smiling, too, his thoughts confirmed. Silly girl, this one isn't another Luzhkov to be charmed by you crossing one silk knee over the other and allowing your skirt to slide a little.

Lermov sat opposite her, Ivanov leaned against the wall to the left side, arms folded. Lermov started, "Lieutenant Bikov, there is no specific charge against you, but I am under orders from Prime Minister Putin to investigate the disappearance of Colonel Boris Luzhkov and his second-in-command, Major Yuri Bounine. Captain Ivanov has shown you the warrant signed by the Prime Minister, indicating that I operate with his full authority?"

"Yes, Colonel."

"To business. You were posted to London nine months ago, which was when you first met Colonel Luzhkov?"

"Yes, Colonel."

There was a kind of impatience in her voice. Lermov made eye contact with Ivanov, who moved in. "And Major Bounine, what about him?"

"He only appeared a few weeks ago, a posting from Dublin." Her impatience broke through, obviously fueled by anxiety. "I've been asked these questions before, Colonel, by Major Chelek. He was very thorough and appeared perfectly satisfied that I had no idea what happened to either of them."

Ivanov, playing the bad guy to the hilt, homed in on her harshly. "If you think that Major Chelek is perfectly satisfied with you, you're very much mistaken, not when he discovered that most of your colleagues were of the opinion that you were having an affair with Colonel Luzhkov."

Her face became very pale. She hammered on the table with a clenched fist, but it was unconvincing, and her voice was weak when she said, "I protest, Colonel. Malicious lies and rumors put about by those who envied my friendship with Colonel Luzhkov. He was the kindest of men."

"Leaving all that to one side, let's have a look at one of your dealings with Colonel Luzhkov. Now, your main duties were as an intelligence assistant in the code room where your expertise was necessary to handle transcripts, encrypted material, and so on."

"That's what I was trained for at GRU headquarters."

"And you acted as Colonel Luzhkov's personal secretary some of the time?" Lermov asked patiently.

"Quite frequently, but much of the work in the code room tends to come in at night, so I often operated the night shift. I was the highest-rated code expert on staff." There was a touch of defiance there.

Lermov took a sheet from the pile in front of him and passed it across. "Do you recall receiving that transcript? It has your name and also Luzhkov's signature of receipt."

She glanced at it. "I remember very well. Do you want me to read it out?"

"No, just tell us the gist of it." He leaned back and waited.

"It came in minutes before midnight on a Sunday, and I was on the night shift. It was a most-secret from the Paris Embassy. The American Vice President was in Paris for a UN thing and was flying back to Washington on Monday morning, next day. Once in the air, the plan was to divert to London for a meeting with the British Prime Minister, the Israeli Prime Minister, and the President of Palestine to try and broker a deal for peace in Gaza."

"And you took it straight to Luzhkov?"

"I knew he was in his office with Major Bounine, having a drink."

"And what did he say?"

"He couldn't believe it, asked me if I was sure it was true, but I pointed out that, as you can see in the second half of the transcript, the information came from a highly regarded asset in French intelligence who was on the GRU payroll in Paris. It also said the word was that the meeting was going to take place on a riverboat on the Thames for security reasons, but the source didn't know which boat."

"And what was his reaction to all this?"

Greta paused for a long moment, as if suddenly realizing where things were going, and it was Ivanov who jumped in.

"You heard the Colonel. It's a simple enough question."

"He was very excited. He… he said what a sensation the death of the four of them would make. It would rock the world."

The silence was so heavy it filled the room, and then Lermov said, "And Major Bounine's reaction?"

"He said surely you're not thinking of something like that, and Luzhkov cut him off and made an amazing speech about the Wall coming down and the death of Communism and the evils of Capitalism. He kept saying things like 'the Communist order must be restored.' He was quite drunk."

"And you were still there listening?" Ivanov asked.

"I felt as if I'd been forgotten and asked what he wanted me to do, and he said the moment we knew which riverboat was being used, I had to notify him at once. I got the impression that Major Bounine wasn't very happy, but he told me to go and get on with it. On my way out of the door, I heard Luzhkov say to Bounine, 'We need a man to deal with our problem satisfactorily,' but that was as the door was closing." She sat there, strangely composed, that edge of defiance again. "So there you are."

Lermov turned and raised his eyebrows to Ivanov, who came and put both hands on the table, his face only a couple of feet away from her. "What do you mean, 'there you are'? That's total nonsense. There isn't a human being in the world who, having heard what Luzhkov was beginning to say, could have resisted holding on for a few seconds to hear the rest. So don't be stupid, and tell the Colonel what it was."

She came apart, tears starting. "All right, then. He said we need a man to deal with our problem satisfactorily, a bad man who is also a madman, something like that. It sounded crazy, but, like I said, he was drunk."

She paused, and Ivanov pushed her again. "Go on."

"Bounine said, 'Do you know of such a man?' and Colonel Luzhkov said that he did, and he told Bounine to go get his coat and put a pistol in his pocket and he would introduce him to the man. I closed the door at once and hurried away to the code room. I was worked up by the whole business, so I opened the door to a small balcony by one of the code-room windows and lit a cigarette, and I saw them go down to the staff car park, get in Luzhkov's Mercedes, and drive away."

"And that was that?"

"No, actually, you should have another transcript in the file. It came in about an hour and a half later from the same source, saying that the riverboat was called the Garden of Eden and they would be boarding her at the Cadogan Pier, Chelsea, have the meeting, go downriver and disembark at Westminster Pier, and that preparations were already in hand to prepare the boat at Chelsea."

"And you forwarded it to Luzhkov?"

"I called him on my mobile but Bounine answered, and I gave him the information."

"And you've no idea where they were?"

"I swear on my life, I don't know. There wasn't even traffic noises. It had started to rain incredibly that night and continued for twenty-four hours. The whole thing the following day was bedeviled by rain and heavy mist. You couldn't see across the river."

"And you didn't see them again?" Lermov asked.

"I'd worked the whole night shift, remember, I needed sleep. I went to my room in the staff block down the road. The two of them just disappeared, as I understood it, sometime in the afternoon. That's all I can say. Look, I'm tired, I need the bathroom."

"Of course you do." Lermov got up, and said to Ivanov, "A word."

They went out, and Ivanov said, "This is quite a story."

"If it's true, I want you to contact Major Chelek in London. She's just told us she didn't see them again after their night on the town because she'd gone down to staff quarters and gone to bed. See if he can confirm that. Also ask him to confirm the question on this slip of paper."

"I'll see to it. Anything else?"

"Yes, tell Sergeant Stransky to commiserate with her, woman-to-woman, let her have a shower and general cleanup and see that she gets a decent meal and a drink. Have her back here in an hour and a half."

"What for?" Ivanov asked.

"Because there's more, Peter, much more, and I haven't got time to waste. I'm trying to think of absolutely the worst consequence I can threaten her with. I'll let you know when I've decided what it is."

Ivanov said with awe, "I'm beginning to think I don't know you at all, sir."

"Frequently, I think I don't know me," Lermov said. "But, for now, I'm going back to the office, where, with luck, the old tea lady may be operating."

And she was there, still plying her trade. He purchased two ham sandwiches made with rough black peasant bread, had scalding tea in a tall glass, and sat in the office and went through the loose file from beginning to end, feeling already that he almost knew it by heart.

Academic work was all he'd had time for when it came to writing books, but he loved fiction at any level, had considered it an essential part of his work in the intelligence field. It had taught him that individuals were what they were, could continue to act only in that way, so that it was possible to tell in advance exactly how they would behave in any given situation. He was absolutely certain that applied to Greta Bikov.

The door opened, and he glanced up. Ivanov moved in and dropped a transcript on the desk. "How the hell did you know? When you leave the code room, you sign out if you are junior staff. You also sign out at the front door of the Embassy. Just down the road are staff quarters, and you sign in there and sign out when you leave and sign in again at the Embassy. Here's the answer to your query, too."

"Stupid, stupid girl." Lermov sighed as he read it all.

"What are you going to do with her?"

"Make her tell the truth," Lermov said. "All of it."

Greta was standing by the desk when they went in, Stransky and her colleague on either side of the door, and she looked renewed again, her hair bound, a touch of lipstick, trim and attractive in her uniform.

"Sit down, Lieutenant. I trust you feel refreshed?"

"Of course, Colonel, you've been very kind."

"And you've been very stupid," he said softly, took off his glasses, and polished them.

"What is this?" She was angry now, and allowing it to get the better of her.

"You lied to me. You didn't go off to the hostel to go to bed. The only place you booked out of when a colleague took over was the code room. We've been on to London and had your comings and goings checked."

She was thoroughly unsure now. "I was in the canteen."

"Enough of this. I'll tell you what you are. A tramp who has shared the bed of an infatuated fool who's indulged you at every turn. You stuck your nose into everything, indulged yourself by perusing documents that were eyes-only or most-secret, listened in on his telephone calls. Oh, yes, I've had that aspect of Luzhkov's office and the outer office checked by GRU in London. There are three different systems linking both offices that would allow someone to eavesdrop."

She was thoroughly worked up now. "It's not true, I swear it."

"And then there's the safe, I'm sure he showed that off to you, stuffed with thousands of pounds sent to fund covert GRU operations. I would imagine you purchased your underwear at Harrods."

"Damn you to hell," she screamed.

"No, hell is where you are going." Lermov took a folded document from his breast pocket and opened it on the desk. "You are dismissed from the GRU with disgrace and sentenced to life imprisonment in Station Gorky."

If ever there was horror on a human face, it was on hers. "You can't do that." She broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. "What can I do to stop this dreadful thing happening?"

"Admit everything, and not just what we've been talking about but anything else that you overheard in the past."

She tried to compose herself. "But I wasn't always acting as his secretary. All right, there were some other strange things that happened. He was crazy in a way, and a great drunk, but most of the time I was in the code room."

"Start by telling us what happened on Monday morning. You weren't in the code room then. Tell me exactly what you did."

"The second transcript that came from Paris, the phone with the information about the Garden of Eden and Chelsea, came in when I was still on duty."

"You've told us that you called Luzhkov and Bounine answered, and you didn't see them again. I presume that wasn't true."

"I was curious about the whole business, there was no way I could have gone to sleep. There was no sign of the Mercedes in the car park. It's not against regulations to take a restroom break, which I did, and had a shower while I was in there to liven myself up, and I had my alarm which would alert me if anything came through. I returned to the code room, looked out at the car park, and saw the Mercedes was there again. It was just before my six a.m. relief, and another transcript came through from Paris."

"And what was that?"

"A confirmation that the Garden of Eden would host a party for a hundred people and would slip its moorings at one-thirty for the trip to Westminster."

"And you, of course, passed it straight on to him?"

"I wasn't sure if he might have gone to his quarters down the road, but, when I tried the office, he was there and told me to read the transcript over the phone."

"So what did you do after that?"

"As I told you, I was intrigued about the whole business, so I went and got a tray at the canteen, coffee, and so on, an excuse to go to the office."

"And?"

"I saw Major Bounine approaching. He was in a robe, a towel round his neck and his hair damp as if he'd been in the shower, and he looked angry. He totally ignored me and went straight into the outer office."

"And you, of course, followed?"

"Yes."

"And you operated one of the recording devices in the outer office that enabled you to eavesdrop. What was being said?"

"I can't remember everything, but the Colonel told Bounine about the time the Garden of Eden was leaving, and Bounine said, 'Have you informed Ali Selim about that?' Luzhkov said he had, and that Selim was very happy about it. A hunter scenting his prey."

Lermov glanced at Ivanov. "What do you think, Peter?"

"That, incredible as it sounds, Luzhkov was planning some sort of a hit." He turned to Greta. "How did Bounine react to all this?"

"He brushed it aside and said he had something more important to discuss." She shook her head. "Look, I wasn't making notes, so I can only recall the gist of it."

"Go on," Lermov said. "Just do your best."

"Well, it seemed to concern Alexander Kurbsky."

"It what?" Ivanov was astounded.

"Major Bounine asked the Colonel if he was aware that Tania Kurbsky had died of typhoid in Station Gorky in 2000. The Colonel said that was nonsense, and Bounine told him the Putin files and the DVD were all fake. The Colonel sounded upset and said something about Kurbsky having done everything for nothing."

Ivanov was looking stunned by now, and Lermov said to her gently, "My dear Greta, Station Gorky recedes already. Now, carry on. Did anything else strike you about that conversation?"

She frowned, trying to think back, and then nodded. "I remember now. Bounine said to the Colonel that the man in the black hood who saved Blake Johnson wasn't Dillon at all, it was Kurbsky, who couldn't stand the idea of someone else ending up in Station Gorky like his sister."

"And that was all."

She frowned, trying her best, and then smiled in a kind of triumph. "Bounine said that Ferguson and Roper had probably found out that Kurbsky's defection was false."

"Incredible," Ivanov said.

"And what happened then?" Lermov asked.

"Bounine walked out, ignoring me, so I took the coffee in to Luzhkov. He was drinking vodka, as usual, and thanked me for the coffee. The fact that I was still there didn't seem to surprise him. I went back in the office, busied myself with some filing, and then he got another call, and I checked it out."

"And who was it?"

"General Ferguson. It was a shouting match, and he called Colonel Luzhkov a bastard." She shook her head. "I only remember bits. He threatened to have a lot of GRU people packed off to Moscow. He said he knew all about Kurbsky and intended to help him in any way he could. He said Kurbsky had already done the United States a big favor by saving this Blake Johnson."

"And afterwards?"

"He was sitting in there drinking vodka for ages and then he sent for Bounine."

"And you listened again?"

"He said to Bounine that in view of what had happened, that maybe it would be a good idea to cancel Ali Selim, and gave Bounine fifty thousand pounds to give Selim for his time."

"And Bounine went?"

"Yes, I was at my desk. He left without a word, carrying a holdall with a shoulder strap." She was obviously uncomfortable again. "I need a rest, Colonel, please."

"We're coming to the end. You've been very good. Bounine returned, did he?"

"Yes, the morning had flown, it was certainly past noon. He came straight through my office and went in to the Colonel."

"And once again you listened?"

"Bounine said Ali Selim had told him he had cancer and had only three months to live and wasn't interested in the money or canceling. He'd go out in a blaze of glory."

She paused, and Lermov said, "Go on, girl."

"I'm sorry, Colonel. Through the glass windows to the corridor, I saw Olga, the staff supervisor, approaching. She was obviously going to come in, so I switched off."

"Dear God, don't let it be true," Ivanov put in with great emotion.

"Calm yourself, Peter," Lermov told him. "Give her a chance." He leaned forward. "How long did she stay?"

"Three or four minutes, and, as soon as she'd gone, I switched on and heard Bounine say, 'You must face him.' The Colonel said that Bounine must go with him and find an opportunity to shoot Selim."

"And what did Bounine say?"

"He agreed to go, said they'd leave in twenty minutes, and went out."

"And Luzhkov?"

"Followed him a bit later, telling me that he and Major Bounine had an appointment and he'd be back later in the afternoon. I left the office and went upstairs to a window overlooking the car park, saw them walk to the Mercedes, get in, and drive away, Bounine at the wheel."

"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."

"And what did you hear Luzhkov say?"

"He was very angry and threatened to have them transferred to a penal regiment. Bounine asked him if he believed the man in the hood was Dillon, and Luzhkov said that Dillon was famous for shooting off half an ear."

"And that's all?"

"Absolutely."

Lermov nodded, thinking about it, then said, "That will be all-for the moment anyway."

Suddenly, her anger flared. "You're not putting me into a cell overnight?"

"Lieutenant, you are a serving officer in the Russian Army. We may not have penal regiments for females, but there are other things that could happen to you, so take care."

"I'm sorry," she said desperately.

He ignored her. "Take her."

She went out, totally dejected, between the two sergeants.

Ivanov said, "What now?"

"Check with London again. I'd be interested to know if Oleg and Petrovich are still on the roster."

"We should be able to get that on our computer staff records, Colonel. It will only take a minute."

He hurried out, and Lermov sat there, thinking about it. Things were certainly coming together, but of course you always needed luck in any kind of investigation, and he got exactly that a few minutes later when Ivanov returned.

"Excellent news, Colonel, Oleg and Petrovich were transferred from London two months ago. Indifferent fitness reports. They're right here in Moscow, attached to the field infantry training school on general police duties."

"And still GRU?"

"Yes, Colonel."

"Something of a comedown, I would have thought. Go and arrest them, Peter, and, if anyone objects, use this." He produced the Putin letter and passed it over.

"My pleasure, Colonel," Ivanov told him, and rushed out.