‘This might not be a scare,’ warned Blom, anxious completely to absolve himself from any later problems.
‘It goes beyond tourism,’ said the second MP, Pierre Delon. ‘As you yourself have so rightly pointed out, Switzerland is a neutral country, the place where other countries that cannot agree with each other consent to meet. Everything possible must be done to preserve that image: to maintain that confidence.’
‘What then?’ asked Blom.
‘The most intensive investigation possible,’ insisted Leland. ‘But in the utmost secrecy. Nothing must become public.’
‘Should the Englishman be included?’
‘Until it is no longer an advantage for us to co-operate,’ said Rainer. ‘The Middle East conference comes first?’
‘Yes,’ confirmed Blom.
‘I think it would be wrong to be overly alarmist with the delegations,’ said the permanent official. ‘I think America should be consulted, Israel, too. Both have excellent intelligence facilities, from which we could benefit. But I do not see any purpose in extending the discussion to any of the other countries. A withdrawal, by just one, would wreck the conference: undermine just the sort of confidence it is necessary to sustain.’
Rainer looked around the small room, to be acknowledged by nods of agreement from every member of the committee.
‘It could be a false alarm, of course,’ said Leland. ‘A mistake.’
‘Let’s hope it is,’ said Rainer. ‘Let’s sincerely hope it is.’
The US advanced party for the conference, including the entire secretariat, landed that night in Geneva, just two hours ahead of the El Al flight from Tel Aviv carrying the Jewish party. The television at the Marthahaus, in Bern, was in the bar. Vasili Zenin sat in its most shadowed corner, making a small beer last, and watched each arrival.
Both Roger Giles and David Levy were professionally careful against being filmed, although Zenin could not have identified either.
Chapter Fifteen
It was a safe house again but in Geneva this time and much larger, almost half a floor of a black-glass-and-aluminium tower block far away from the lake, on the Rue Saint Victor. The outer offices were occupied, like some sort of buffer to guard the conference suite, which was on the corner of the building with a panoramic view of the city. Charlie arrived intentionally early, wanting the psychological advantage of being there first with his territory already established. Levy and Giles entered simultaneously, right on time. Levy was a large man, both in height and size, bulge-chested and heavy bellied and he walked with a strange, shoulder-swinging swagger, as if it were difficult to carry so much weight. His hair was cropped very close to his head. He appeared to wear clothes for necessity, not style: the sleeves of his jacket and the legs of his trousers, behind the knee, were lined with creases and although he wore a tie it was pulled down from his open collar. He dwarfed the American. Giles was small to the point of almost being petit, an impression heightened by his neatness. His hair was not as short as the Israeli’s but it was more carefully combed. His tie was precisely in place, the knot clipped by a pin which secured both edges of his collar and each of the three buttons of his uncreased suit was secured. The red-toned brogues glistened and Charlie was glad it was so late in the year; if there had been any sunlight the reflection would have been dazzling.
The Swiss counter-intelligence chief made the introductions and as he did so Giles put his head curiously to one side and said: ‘Charlie Muffin …? Weren’t you the guy that –?’
‘Yes,’ cut off Charlie. It was best to get it out of the way as soon as possible.
‘Well I’ll be a son of a bitch!’ said Giles.
‘Do you two know each other?’ asked Blom.
‘No,’ said Charlie. ‘It’s something that happened a long time ago.’ Like Edith’s death, he thought. And then Natalia.
‘The word was that you were back,’ said Giles, the surprise still showing.
‘Is it something we should know about?’ asked Levy. The voice, like the man, was heavy.
Charlie looked enquiringly at Giles who turned to the other two men and said: ‘I don’t think so. Like he told you, it was something that happened a long time ago.’ He looked back to Charlie and said: ‘But I don’t understand what you’re doing here.’
‘You will,’ promised Charlie.
Blom, playing the part of the uncertain host, gestured them to seats around a conference table and summoned someone from the outside offices to provide coffee, which he poured. To Levy and Giles he said awkwardly, confirming his difficulty: ‘Thank you both for coming.’
Levy frowned and said: ‘Your message said it was important.’
Instead of responding, the Swiss counter-intelligence chief turned to Charlie and said: ‘I’d like you to set everything out, as you did for me.’
I should have cut a long-playing record, thought Charlie. So familiar was he now with the facts that he was able to concentrate upon the reaction of the two men as he spoke. Almost at once Giles pulled forward in his chair, listening unblinking and again there was a contrast. Levy remained pushed back in his chair, almost slumped, occasionally sipping from his coffee cup.
When Charlie finished the American erupted in a burst of questions: ‘But Geneva is only a surmise on your part? Based on the airport identification? Nothing more than that?’
‘Nothing more than that,’ conceded Charlie, at once.
‘And the surveillance hasn’t been relaxed, in London?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Who specifically debriefed Novikov on the assassination?’ came in Levy.
‘I did,’ said Charlie.
‘No doubts?’
‘None.’
‘Without wishing to convey any offence, I’d like Mossad access,’ said the Israeli.
The man couldn’t give a fuck about causing offence, Charlie knew: it was an ideal opportunity to get hold of a Soviet defector, which was always a prize. He said: ‘I anticipated that you would.’
‘And I’d like someone from our embassy in London to see him, too,’ said Giles hurriedly, as if he were afraid of missing out.
‘I think he should be made available to my service, as well,’ completed Blom, wishing he’d been first instead of last.
The queue was going to stretch practically to the Sussex border, thought Charlie. He said: ‘I’ll pass on the requests.’
‘I’d also like the photograph and the full physical description, to run our own check,’ said Giles, ahead of the Israeli this time.
‘Of course,’ assured Charlie. ‘I’d like to believe your records will come up with something where ours didn’t, because we need the break. But I don’t think they will.’
‘Why not?’ said Blom.
‘He’ll be a first timer,’ guessed Charlie. ‘Squeaky clean.’
‘That would be the obvious way to operate,’ agreed Levy.
Conscious from the State Department briefings – two from the Secretary of State himself – of the personal importance that President Anderson was attaching to the conference, the CIA man said to Blom: ‘I think it’s wise to keep this under wraps. We’re still guessing, after all.’
There speaks another vested interest, thought Charlie. He said: ‘I’m surprised we’re not including any Arab intelligence official in this discussion.’
‘The Arab delegations are not arriving for two or three days,’ Blom tried to avoid.
‘They are going to be briefed then?’ pressed Charlie.
‘The view of my government is that at this stage the matter should be restricted to just us,’ admitted Blom, reluctantly.
‘I think you’re taking a hell of a chance,’ said Charlie.
‘You’ve already expressed your views,’ reminded Blom. The Englishman was insufferable. He said: ‘The decision does not directly affect you.’