Martin said, ‘I feel very badly about Antoine.’
‘You mean that he slipped through the net? You’re not to blame. By the time René told you he’d sent him to Marseilles, Antoine was already at Cathy’s. We were supposed to stop him at the border, but he used a false passport. It must have been stolen, they think. It’s nobody’s fault – there’s not much Immigration can do when someone travels under a false name. Anyway,’ she said, ‘what are the plans for the Korean firm?’
‘We’ll go in first thing tomorrow morning. The local DCRI have had surveillance on the place for a few days now and they’ve got a pretty good idea of who goes in and out. They start work early – everyone should be in there by eight o’clock.’
‘Have there been any more sightings of Kubiak?’
‘None. So we considered waiting another day or so, to try and get him as well; he hasn’t been seen in Geneva for almost a week. But if he’s not here now, there’s no reason to think he’ll show up any time soon.’
‘Okay. The mystery for me is what the link is between him and this man Dong Shin-soo. We don’t know if Dong has anything to do with this office here – it’s a South Korean company after all, so if he were connected, it wouldn’t make much sense. And I still don’t understand the Russian involvement with the place.’ Martin looked down at his coffee. ‘Too many unanswered questions,’ he said. ‘I have to agree: it doesn’t make any sense.’
‘If you set out all the pieces in this little puzzle, you’re left with the choice of believing that there is a South Korean-North Korean-Russian plot, which is absurd, or…’ And Liz paused as she thought about the unspoken alternative.
‘Or?’ Martin asked gently.
‘One of the three isn’t who or what we think they are. Or – don’t say it isn’t complicated – they are who they say they are, but they’re also something else.’
Martin laughed. ‘Well, let’s hope we’ll know a lot more after tomorrow.’
‘What are you doing until then?’ asked Liz
‘I have to make some calls to Paris. Fézard has offered me the use of an office in the Préfecture. You’re welcome to come with me, but otherwise I thought we could meet up in an hour or so for lunch. There’s a bistro just down the street that I’m told is very good.’
Liz looked at Martin fondly, thinking how very French he was. In less than twenty-four hours they’d be going in with armed police to try and solve this mystery, but for now, his lunch was what mattered most. There was actually something very sensible in this approach, she reflected. What was the point of sitting around, tensely eating soggy sandwiches and drinking instant coffee – the usual refreshment when A4 and Special Branch were waiting for an operation to begin?
‘Actually, I may leave you to it for now. I’d like to get a feel for the neighbourhood.’
He nodded. ‘Of course. The South Korean office is very close by… just round the corner. You’ll easily recognise it – an old warehouse that’s been renovated. Be careful though, just in case Kubiak is around. We still don’t know whether he saw you in Geneva meeting Sorsky, and we don’t want to alert him.’
Martin signalled for the bill, and Liz waited while he paid. As they left the little cul-de-sac, he pointed down the street at the awning of the bistro. ‘I’ll see you there at one,’ he said, and suddenly reached for her arm. ‘I’m glad you’re here, Liz. But keep your eyes open.’
‘I will,’ she said, surprised by his sudden solemnity. It wasn’t like him to worry.
Chapter 52
Martin Seurat was always punctual. Throughout his marriage he had endured (sometimes patiently, towards the end mostly not) his wife’s casual indifference to time. Fortunately, Liz was a good timekeeper, which meant her lateness for lunch was unusual. And a little frustrating, since he had much to tell her. When he’d got to the Préfecture he had expected to hole up in the cubicle Fézard had commandeered for him, but a young detective had found him and said the boss would like to speak to him.
He’d found Fézard in high spirits, almost jubilant. ‘Ah, Monsieur Seurat,’ he’d exclaimed as Martin walked into his elegant office, ‘I have some news. Good news, I’d say. This man Dong whom MI5 have been following has made an appearance here. Guess where?’
‘I assume at the airport,’ said Martin lightly.
Fézard began to frown, then stopped and laughed. ‘Like all Parisians, you employ a subtle humour, Monsieur. But seriously, you should know that this man Dong has been seen by my men this very morning, entering the same office block as our South Korean friends. Not only that, one of my men had a word with the building’s receptionist, and she says she has seen the man before. He takes the elevator to the fifth floor, moreover, which is where our Eastern friends work.’
Now Martin sat at the bistro table, thinking that Liz had been right: there were three parties to this odd drama. But confirmation of her hunch merely heightened the mystery, unless it turned out that this Dong character was working for the South Koreans – in that fraught peninsula, the two Koreas were constantly trying to turn the agents of the other side. But if Dong had been turned, why didn’t the British and Americans know about it? Surely they would have been told by the KCIA.
His puzzlement persisted as he sat waiting for Liz. She was only twenty minutes late but it was making him nervous just the same. He told himself to calm down, and remembered when his daughter, fresh at college in Paris, had shown up an hour late for lunch, explaining that she had just been window shopping and had lost track of time. But Liz wasn’t a young girl, and in Seurat’s experience she was never late.
So after half an hour had passed he rang her mobile. It was switched off – another thing that was odd. She never turned it off when she was away from her office; she needed to be available for calls from Thames House in London. By now, his mild anxiety had turned to full-blown worry, and after another half-hour of fruitless waiting he called Fézard, explaining the situation. Fézard understood the gravity of her non-show at once, and immediately came to join him in the bistro to discuss what to do.
Martin said, ‘I think I’d better call her office in London and see if they’ve heard from her. Isobel Florian is arriving any minute; I’ll let her know as well. Maybe Liz called her for some reason.’ Not that that seemed in the least likely.
‘All right.’ Fézard pointed to three men standing on the pavement outside the bistro. ‘Those are my officers. They’ll be combing the area – there’s always a chance she’s got lost. Easy to do in Marseilles. And I’ll alert the local police as well – they’ll check with all the hospitals in case she’s had an accident.’
‘Good,’ said Martin. He hesitated momentarily, then said, ‘I was thinking about the raid.’
Fézard nodded. ‘Me too.’
‘If something’s happened to Liz, then it might be connected to the Korean office. She might have been seen and even taken there. Which means we should move in sooner rather than later.’
‘I agree and I would be surprised if Madame Florian didn’t agree too.’ Fézard looked at his watch. ‘If we’ve had no news of Ms Carlyle by four o’clock, then I would suggest we enter the offices at four-thirty. I have constant surveillance on the building, and they have seen nothing suspicious since the appearance of Dong. There’s an entrance at the back – a loading bay for large items and furniture; I will make sure they are watching that as well. If she is in the building, then no one will be able to take her anywhere else without our seeing it.’ He left unspoken what Martin feared most – that anyone taking Liz out of the building might be transporting a corpse.