‘Talk me through your business,’ Purkiss said. ‘Give me the gist of what you do.’
‘The majority of our business is shipping.’ Osip’s matter-of-fact tone had returned. Purkiss suspected he’d been roughed up a few times in his life, and bounced back quickly. ‘We have a small fleet of six cargo ships, based here in Merseyside. Most of the trade is between here and Ireland. Some of it heads further north, to Scotland.’
‘What kind of freight?’
‘Anything, within reason. Perishable goods, consumer items mainly. We do not have the facilities to transport large quantities of machinery or vehicles. Our clients include small businesses, private individuals. Sometimes UK or Irish government contracts come our way.’
‘You said, mostly shipping.’ This was Asher.
‘Yes. We also operate a fleet of heavy-duty trucks for transportation on the mainland. Our routes extend all across the British Isles.’
Purkiss felt the germ of an idea twitch in his mind.
He nodded at the screen. ‘Narrow it down. Show us the schedules for the last twenty-four hours, and the next.’
Asher touched Purkiss’s elbow. ‘A word?’
Purkiss beckoned Saburova. To Kendrick, he said, ‘Watch them both.’
He led Asher and Saburova to the far end of the office.
Asher said, ‘You think he’s telling the truth?’
‘No way of knowing. He’s FSB, or was once. He’ll be able to conceal it if he’s lying, and we won’t know otherwise unless we apply extreme pressure. Perhaps not even then.’
‘Let me call my people,’ Asher said. ‘Seriously. We can crack him.’
‘We need to move quicker than that.’ Purkiss glanced across at Osip at the computer. ‘In any case, we’ll hand him over to SIS when we’re finished here. But in the mean time, let’s assume he’s telling the truth. That he hasn’t had any dealings with Donovan. The fact is, Donovan’s been calling here. We know that. Why he’s been ringing without saying anything, is anybody’s guess. But he’s connected to this place somehow.’ Purkiss paused to gather this thoughts. ‘He’s linked to Rossiter, and he’s linked to a shipping company. It suggests Rossiter is planning to transport someone, or something. Either out of the country, or into it.’
‘He may not be planning it,’ said Saburova. ‘He may have already done it.’
‘Which is why I’ve asked for the schedules for the previous twenty-four hours as well as the next. There might be a lead there. Something that will give us a clue.’
Purkiss’s phone rang, startling him. He stepped away.
It wasn’t Vale, as he’d expected.
Rupesh Gar, the SIS Deputy Director, said, ‘Purkiss. Where are you?’
‘Why?’
‘You need to get back here. Urgently.’
‘What’s going on?’ Purkiss noticed Asher and Saburova gazing at him.
‘Vodovos wants to talk.’ Gar paused. ‘But he’ll talk only to you.’
Twenty
Purkiss strode back to the desk, leaving Asher and Saburova to follow.
‘I have collated the schedules,’ said Osip. ‘Times of collection and delivery, customers involved. Prices as well, if this is of any interest.’ He clicked the mouse and a printer whirred into life.
Purkiss grabbed the sheaf of papers, which showed a series of spreadsheets. He scanned them quickly.
It would take time, and close attention, to read any meaning into them.
He said, ‘I need to get back to London.’
‘Why?’ Asher had moved in close.
Purkiss hesitated. Then he beckoned Asher and Saburova aside once again.
‘You won’t know this,’ he said to Saburova, keeping his voice low. ‘But one person survived the attack at the prisoner exchange site. His name’s Stepan Vodovos. He’s one of yours. FSB.’
She stared at Purkiss. ‘You did not tell me.’
‘Because I wasn’t convinced you weren’t really still acting in an official FSB capacity. To be honest, I’m still not. Anyway. Vodovos has so far refused to say anything about what happened up there. Which leads us to believe he noted something of significance, something he doesn’t want to share with us alone.’ He stopped to make sure she was following. ‘It seems he’s changed his mind. He wants to meet me to tell me something.’
‘What about a phone call?’ said Asher. ‘A video link-up?’
‘He insists on a meeting in person,’ said Purkiss. ‘I’m going to have to leave.’
‘I will come with you,’ said Saburova.
‘No. I need you and Asher to stay here and work on those schedules.’ He continued before she could interrupt. ‘Check the deliveries and exports. Look out for any discrepancies in travelling time. Anything. I’ll notify SIS, get them to send up any assistance you need. Manpower, whatever.’
Saburova looked uncomfortable.
Purkiss said, ‘I’ll keep your identity out of it. As far as SIS needs to know, Asher’s working this by himself.’
Asher too looked disgruntled. But he nodded.
‘Okay. Let’s get to work.’
Back at the desk, Purkiss said, ‘Tony, I want you to stay here. I’m heading back to London.’
‘Really?’ Kendrick looked at Asher and Saburova with distaste.
Purkiss was already at the door. He said, ‘Keys,’ and Asher threw them to him.
He was heading for the on-ramp onto the M1 when his phone rang.
Saburova said: ‘We have found something.’
‘Tell me.’ Purkiss pulled over onto the hard shoulder, prompting a flare of horns. He’d hit the rush hour traffic and progress had been slow so far.
‘One of Osip’s cargo vessels set off from Dublin this morning at six. Its scheduled time of arrival here on Merseyside is noon today, according to the spreadsheet.’
Purkiss said, ‘Six hours.’
‘It is too long. Osip says there must be a mistake. He has tried to call the captain of the vessel but is unable to get through.’
Purkiss watched the cars streaming by onto the motorway.
‘Might be something. What’s the ship carrying?’
‘Alcohol. Crates of beer and whiskey. Osip believes the crew of the vessel may be involved in a scam, to steal the cargo. He thinks they may have somehow falsified the arrival time to avoid detection in the short term. He wants to call the police.’
‘Don’t let him.’
‘Of course not.’ She didn’t sound offended.
‘All right,’ said Purkiss. ‘Give me the details of the vessel. I’ll inform SIS and make arrangements for the vessel to be intercepted. Stay put.’
Before she could reply, he hung up.
Another long shot. Osip might well be correct, and this could be nothing more than a minor local crime.
But it wasn’t worth taking any chances.
He called Vale as he drove. Told him about developments.
‘I’ll get onto it,’ said Vale. ‘John…’
‘Yes.’
‘You believe Rossiter is behind this?’
Purkiss took a long breath, exhaled. ‘I don’t know. It seems… a little off. Not his style.’
He reached London in just over three hours, and took another thirty minutes to traverse the city to SIS headquarters at Vauxhall Cross. It was eleven thirty by his watch when he was ushered through the security measures at the entrance. The handgun, the SIG P226 Kendrick had given him, was removed without comment.
Gar met him in front. His blank eyes appraised Purkiss quickly.
‘So what happened?’ Purkiss said, as they walked towards the lifts.
‘Vodovos called me in. He said he’d talk, but only to you. No need for a fellow Russian to be present.’
‘And that’s it?’
‘Yes. He seemed… on edge. More so than before.’