‘My new best friend,’ he repeated.
‘Yes. And I’m calling to let you know how much shit you’re in, and how best to avoid it.’
Trying not to think about windows, Cantor sank into his chair and listened.
When it was done, Lech slipped his phone into his pocket and looked at Louisa. ‘Well?’
‘How’d he take it?’
‘Like he didn’t believe a word I said.’
‘Well, that’s what he’d want you to think either way.’
‘Spoken like a spook,’ he muttered.
‘Glad to hear it.’ She raised her own phone. ‘My turn.’
At 10.43 – Catherine happened to be looking at her watch – Lamb started coughing, and didn’t stop for eight minutes. There wasn’t a lot she could do. He presumably accepted these fits as a lifestyle tax, so why shouldn’t she? Rinsing a takeaway cup, she filled it with water, placed it by his elbow and let him get on with it.
At 10.51, she said, ‘Feeling better?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘That was your version of an aerobics workout, was it?’
‘Just the body’s way of expelling bad matter.’
‘How does it know when to stop?’ She handed him a tissue. ‘When did you last see a doctor?’
‘I think it was William Hartnell,’ said Lamb. ‘Have I missed much?’ He dabbed his face, picked up the cup, drained half of it, realised what it was, scowled, and drained the rest. ‘Where’s the lawn ornament?’
‘If you’re referring to Mr Nesmith, he left.’
‘Did I tell him he could go?’
‘You might be mistaking him for someone who works for you.’
Lamb thought about this, then nodded. ‘Yeah, I can see how that might happen. He had that miserable-loser look.’
‘And yet he fulfilled his mission. Is what you’re doing wise, do you think?’
Lamb, who had found a cigarette to soothe his frame, paused in his hunt for a lighter. ‘You’ll have to narrow it down.’
‘Well, that, obviously. But I meant this game you’re playing with Cantor. He’s the Park’s problem, not ours. And I don’t imagine Taverner plans to let him walk away scot-free, do you?’
‘Well, it’s true I like to win in the long term,’ Lamb said. ‘But I like to win in the short term too. Besides, Taverner’s got more problems than you know. She can’t settle Cantor’s hash until she’s sure she won’t get caught in the blowback.’ He produced his lighter just as his phone rang, and stared at it for a moment as if unsure where the noise was coming from. Then pulled the phone from his pocket. ‘What?’
It was Ho, Catherine surmised. Lamb had a particular expression he wore when forced to listen to Ho; it was the same one he wore when forced to listen to anyone else, only more so. When Ho finished, Lamb said, ‘So what you’re telling me is, you did what I told you to do. How come you can’t just say that?’
He listened for another moment.
‘Oh, I see. No, perfectly good explanation. Thanks.’
He ended the call.
Catherine raised an eyebrow. ‘“Perfectly good explanation”?’
‘That was Dander in the background. Apparently Ho’s a dick.’
‘I’m so glad the team-building’s working out.’ She paused. ‘No word from River yet.’
‘Yeah,’ said Lamb. ‘But I imagine there’s been some debriefing going on. If you get my drift.’
‘I just wonder if he’s coming back at all.’
‘Why wouldn’t he?’
‘Whatever happened last night must have been traumatic. Coming on top of everything else – his grandfather’s death, all the havoc round here – he might have had enough.’
‘Huh.’
‘He nearly packed it in last year. He came this close.’
‘He’s a spook. It’s in his blood.’
‘And now Sid’s back in the picture.’
‘Hence my debriefing comment,’ said Lamb. ‘You see, what I was getting at was— Ah, what now?’
It was another moment before Catherine heard it: someone at the door. With a key, so it could only be Diana Taverner, who duly appeared a moment later, pausing in the doorway, shaking her head.
‘This was in showroom condition yesterday.’
Lamb shook his head sorrowfully. ‘I blame the younger generation. It’s like they still expect their mums to tidy up.’
‘I sometimes wonder how you survived under cover. You’d think the Stasi would just have followed the chaos.’ Diana turned to Catherine. ‘How do you put up with it?’
‘I took a long hard look at the alternative.’
Diana said, ‘Fair enough,’ then nodded in dismissal. ‘Adults in the room.’
‘She stays,’ said Lamb.
‘I don’t think—’
‘She stays.’
Diana rolled her eyes, but went on as if Catherine weren’t there. ‘I spoke to Rasnokov. He’s calling his dogs off.’
Lamb’s expression gave nothing away.
‘So you can vacate this place.’
‘Just when I was getting comfortable. What does Vassily get in return? Let me guess. Safe passage for the pooches.’
‘It’s a no-mess outcome.’
‘Except for the blood on the walls. And isn’t that why things kicked off in the first place?’
‘Circumstances change.’
‘Meaning you’ve noticed what a balls-up you created when financing Kazan, so you’re dropping everything else to deal with that instead.’
Diana glanced towards Catherine.
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ said Catherine. ‘I never pay attention when he’s sober.’
Lamb lit his cigarette, waggling the lighter as if it were a match. ‘Diana invited some celebrities aboard the good ship Regent’s Park. They paid for their passage and everything. And now they want a go at steering.’
‘That’s not going to happen.’
‘Yeah, but here’s a thing about pirates. They don’t take no for an answer.’
His phone rang again. Without taking his eyes off Diana, he tossed it to Catherine, who caught it. ‘Hello, Lech. Yes. But tell me instead.’ A pause. Then: ‘Thank you. I’ll let him know.’
Rather than throw the phone back, she held on to it.
‘So let me know.’
Catherine said, ‘Both calls have been made.’
‘Calls?’ said Diana. ‘You’re supposed to be dark. In fact …’ She made a show of looking round the room. ‘Where’s the awkward squad?’
Lamb snorted. ‘Trust me, awkward would be an improvement.’
‘What are you up to, Jackson?’
‘You might have declared an amnesty, but I haven’t. That file Cantor passed behind the curtain was stamped “Slough House”, remember?’
‘“Curtain”? Really?’
He blew smoke. ‘A good metaphor never goes stale.’
Diana Taverner shook her head wearily. ‘I can’t stress this enough. The last thing I need is help from you.’ She looked at Catherine. ‘Haven’t you learned to control him yet?’
‘I’m taking notes.’
Diana returned to Lamb. ‘Cantor’s up shit creek. Rasnokov has footage of him handing that file to his contacts. Sound and vision. Good for five years at least. So listen, I’m sorry about the dead, I really am. But there’s a greater good at stake here, so whatever you’re up to, pack it in. Rasnokov is looking to build bridges.’
‘He’s got a funny way of showing it.’
‘We all have political masters to work around.’
‘Speak for yourself.’ Ash fell into Lamb’s lap. He appeared not to notice. ‘But what the hell, you’ve won me over. You want safe passage for the hit crew, I won’t get in your way. In fact’ – he paused to stub his cigarette out on the floor – ‘I’ve probably got a box somewhere you could pack them in. That’ll save on costs.’
Diana stared. ‘What have you done?’