‘The run-through on the visa applications might take a while,’ said Giles, trying to obey headquarters instructions. ‘Like you said, Schmidt isn’t a particularly unusual name in the United States.’
‘But it’ll be made available?’ pressed Charlie.
‘Yes,’ said Giles, tightly.
‘I really wish I could contribute more,’ offered Levy. ‘All I seem to be doing is sitting here taking advantage of everyone else’s efforts.’
‘Nothing at all from your records search?’
The Israeli shook his close-shaved head. ‘Nothing from either the picture or the physical description that was specific enough. There was one man who looked a possibility for a while but he turned out to be a Syrian terrorist we already had in custody, serving ten years.’
‘Are there still hotels to be questioned?’ Charlie asked the Swiss.
‘Some,’ conceded Blom. He was pink with irritation but Charlie didn’t think it heightened the albino impression this time: the man looked more like a doll badly decorated in the Christmas rush.
‘And they will be?’ persisted Charlie, careless of annoying the man further: he was going to remain an awkward bugger whether Blom was offended or not.
‘Of course!’
‘You could always publish the photograph,’ prodded Charlie.
‘I thought I had made it abundantly clear that publication is not considered an appropriate option.’
‘Problem is, options are things we don’t really seem to have,’ reminded Charlie.
Levy lingered in the foyer of the building, obviously hanging back when the American got into the waiting embassy limousine. They both watched the car merge into the traffic and Levy said: ‘Do you drink?’
‘It’s been known,’ said Charlie.
After two streets they found a café tucked away in an alley off the Rue Alcide Jentzer. Charlie chose whisky, a brand he didn’t recognize, and Levy said he’d risk it, too. It turned out to be a risk, harsh to the back of the throat.
‘You didn’t make any friends back there,’ said Levy.
‘Always a problem,’ admitted Charlie.
‘You were very quick to see what was wrong.’
‘It seemed obvious.’
‘Not to me it didn’t. Or the other two.’
‘Fluke,’ dismissed Charlie. What was this hand-on-the-knee stuff all about? he wondered.
‘They’re talking about closing you off,’ revealed the Israeli. ‘The meeting started half an hour before the time you were given.’
So there had been some earlier discussion. ‘They are?’ said Charlie. ‘Not you?’
‘I didn’t express an opinion,’ said Levy, honestly.
‘Express one now.’
‘With Blom it seems to be a matter of personality and I’ve always thought it juvenile to let personal feelings interfere with professional judgements,’ said Levy. ‘As far as the CIA are concerned, you can hardly be surprised by their wanting you out after what you did, can you?’
Still not an opinion, decided Charlie, but revealing nevertheless. If Levy knew what he’d done to the Americans then the Mossad chief had run more than a check on a blurred photograph. And the Israeli records had to be more comprehensive than he’d believed them to be. He said: ‘What was their decision?’
‘They didn’t make one,’ said Levy. ‘And after today they’d be mad to think of doing so.’
‘I think I’ll switch to brandy,’ said Charlie. ‘What about you?’
‘Probably a good idea,’ accepted Levy.
After the drinks were changed, Charlie said: ‘You still haven’t said what you’re going to do?’
‘We wouldn’t be sitting here if that wasn’t obvious, would we?’
The Israeli was still on the fence, able to look into both backyards, Charlie recognized. Sneaky bastard. Charlie felt quite at home. He said: ‘Sounds good to me. Everything shared?’
‘Between the two of us,’ qualified Levy. ‘If they want to cut you out I don’t see why they should get any feedback through me.’
Levy had given the undertaking with a completely straight face, too, Charlie acknowledged. He said: ‘What about a feed-back from them?’
‘We’re not going to be able to sort this out exchanging half of what’s in the picture, are we?’
Levy seemed to have the habit of answering questions by asking others and therefore never openly saying anything, thought Charlie. He said: ‘No. And thanks.’
Levy gestured to the man behind the zinc bar for more drinks and when they came raised his glass in a toast and said: ‘Here’s to a working relationship.’
Charlie drank and said: ‘Let’s start right away. How important does Israel regard this conference?’
‘Vital,’ said Levy, at once. ‘Do you know the state of our economy, from having constantly to remain on a war footing! Getting rid of the Palestinian problem would be to get rid of a lot of others as well.’
‘You’ve warned Jerusalem about a possible outrage here?’
‘Of course.’
‘What was the reaction?’
Levy shrugged. ‘I guess my people are more accustomed to outrages than most. They’re concerned, obviously, but not panicking. The message came back for more proof.’
‘Always the same message,’ said Charlie, wearily.
‘Something else you must expect.’
‘If only the bastard would make a big enough mistake!’ said Charlie, fervently.
‘It’s been almost a week,’ reminded Kalenin.
‘I know,’ said Berenkov.
‘And there’s not been the slightest indication of any increased surveillance on the Bern embassy.’
‘It’s time for Zenin to make the pick-up,’ said Berenkov.
‘And that’s his only moment of contact,’ said the KGB chief, in further reminder. ‘We would still be able to turn him back but it isn’t any part of the training that we contact him at the Geneva apartment.’
‘Let’s hope we don’t have to,’ said Berenkov. ‘What about Lvov?’
‘I hear he’s making quite a lot of the time and effort being wasted in Bern,’ said the KGB chief.
‘He’s right,’ said Berenkov, objectively.
‘Unfortunately he is,’ agreed Kalenin. Would he cut himself off from his friend, if the need for survival demanded it? He hoped he was not confronted with the choice.
Chapter Nineteen
Vasili Zenin had always acknowledged – as had every instructor at Kuchino and Balashikha – that the greatest danger of his being identified would be going to the Soviet embassy in Bern to collect the weapons. But the bulk precluded their being left safely at any dead-letter drop, as the passport had been in London, and there was anyway the essential need for him to examine and approve what had been provided: his was the ultimate responsibility, overriding that of the officers at Balashikha who had packaged and despatched them. And any immediate, on-the-spot examination would have clearly been ridiculous anywhere but in the maximum security of the KGB rezidentura within the building, an area forbidden even to the ambassador himself.
Like everything else it had been rehearsed until supposedly perfect in the Kuchino complex, with mock-up streets and avenues and a re-creation of the front of the building behind the protection of its gates and iron railings. KGB personnel performed the role of ordinary diplomats, tradesmen and visitors using the embassy. Created all around were less elaborate false fronts upon which were specifically isolated spots to suggest where Swiss counter-intelligence Watchers might be placed. Their imagined positions had been indicated by automatic cameras triggered by remote control by Watchers of the Soviet service and for a week Zenin had done nothing but attempt to enter and leave without being photographed. On the last day he had managed three unrecorded entries and two missed departures.