‘I don’t understand,’ said Kepitsa, touching a spot on his chin.
‘Oh, it’s quite simple.’ Tanya suddenly felt liberated, a puppet severing her strings. ‘You see, Gaddis knows that you’ll try to kill him unless he has an insurance policy. You murdered his friend, you murdered Calvin Somers, you murdered Benedict Meisner and you murdered Robert Wilkinson. You can walk out of this room and reassure us that peace will reign and that the FSB bears no grudge against Gaddis, but, let’s face it, the evidence is against you. Your organization has a historical tendency to shut people up when they know too much or say the wrong thing. And Gaddis knows too much. He knows, for example, that the so-called saviour of modern Russia is just a power-hungry thug who was prepared to betray his country at its most desperate hour.’
Kepitsa looked imploringly at Brennan, as if it was beneath his dignity to be insulted quite so brazenly, particularly by a woman. Brennan was on the point of obliging him when Tanya cut both men a look that would have frozen the Neva.
‘The insurance policy is the tape,’ she said. ‘I assume that Doctor Gaddis has already made plans to have the film shown on every news channel and on every website in the civilized world should anything happen to him. If, on the other hand, you leave him in peace, he will go back to work at UCL and forget that he ever met any of us.’
Brennan spoke first. ‘What about Crane?’
‘Gone. Forgotten. It’s too late for that. Crane will remain a myth.’
Kepitsa stirred once again. He appeared irritated that Brennan had not leaped more robustly to his defence. Opting to fight his own battle, he rose to his feet and directed his attention towards Tanya. It was to his considerable disadvantage that she was at least five inches taller than he was.
‘Let me be clear about something, young lady. I would ask you formally to withdraw the accusation that my government would be in any way responsible should anything happen to Doctor Gaddis. As far as the FSB is concerned, British journalists and academics may write what they like about Russia and its politicians. We would not consider Doctor Gaddis an enemy of the state simply because he has written a book-’
Even Brennan looked uncomfortable at the effrontery of the lie. Tanya was grateful for the opportunity to skewer Kepitsa on his hypocrisy.
‘So it’s OK for British academics, is it? But as soon as you have a Russian academic, a Ukrainian journalist — say, a Katarina Tikhonov — then it’s a different story. You murder people like that, don’t you, Mr Kepitsa? You poison them. You send thugs to gun them down in their homes. You allow them to rot in prisons and deny them basic medical care. Isn’t that the case?’
The Russian was already reaching for his briefcase. Tanya expected him to say: ‘I have heard enough of this’, but instead he opted for the more tried and tested: ‘I have never been so insulted in my life.’
‘Oh, I expect you have,’ she said. ‘Just before you go, Max, do tell Sir John why you have two surveillance operatives sitting in a Mercedes, registered to the Russian Embassy, looking up at Holly Levette’s apartment as we speak? Tell him that. I’d like to hear your reasoning. I thought Doctor Gaddis was just a harmless British academic? If that’s the case, why are you taking such an unusual interest in his private life? Is it the tape? Are you trying to get to it before he does?’
‘Is this true, Maxim?’ Brennan asked.
Kepitsa turned for the door.
‘This meeting is concluded,’ he said, shooting Brennan the look of a deceived man already plotting his revenge. ‘The next time I come to visit you, John, I expect to be treated with a good deal more respect.’
Chapter 58
It was dark when Gaddis came out of Holly’s building and stood momentarily on Tite Street, looking up at a pale orange sky. He now had two disks concealed beneath his coat. In his left hand he was carrying an envelope addressed to a colleague in the United States which contained a DVD.
He needed a cigarette. He took out the packet, struck a match and brought the flame to his lips. It was his only mistake. The face of Dr Samuel Gaddis was momentarily lit up for the world to see.
‘I know that man,’ said Karl Stieleke.
‘Who?’ said Grek. ‘The guy who just came out?’
‘On Saturday. In Vienna. He was at the wedding. I saw him after the ceremony in the Stadtpark.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘I am certain. He bumped into me.’
Grek watched as Gaddis turned south and came directly towards them. For an instant, he thought that he was going to approach the car. Instead, he crossed Royal Hospital Road and walked towards a red letterbox just a few feet from the Mercedes. He posted the envelope through the slot, then continued south, heading in the direction of the river. Grek, who had been close enough to touch Gaddis as he passed the Mercedes, realized that he, too, had seen the man before. Several weeks earlier. He was the unidentified male who had left Charlotte Berg’s residence on the night that he had broken into her office. Approximately six feet tall, about eighty kilos, wearing a corduroy jacket with a leather satchel slung over the shoulder.
‘That is Sam,’ said Grek. ‘He posted the tape. Call Kepitsa and tell him to send somebody to break into the box. I will follow him.’
Stieleke nodded.
‘Stay here, Karl. Stay with the vehicle and keep an eye on the girl. When I call you, when I tell you that Sam has been brought under control, you go in to Holly and you finish the job. Understood?’
‘Understood.’
Des was watching them. He, too, had seen POLARBEAR coming out of the building and had privately admonished him for lighting a cigarette with a ‘fucking Swan Vesta’ so that ‘Dolph can get a really good look at your face’. Then he wondered why POLARBEAR was posting a package into the neat red letterbox on the south side of Royal Hospital Road.
‘I hope that’s not what I think it is,’ he muttered to himself, pulling out his mobile phone. ‘They’ll just nick it, you twat, they’ll just nick it.’
He dialled Tanya’s number but she wasn’t answering. Des left a message.
‘POLARBEAR has left the building. He’s also just posted a package on Royal Hospital Road. Think it might be your tape. Give me a call, will you? I reckon things are about to get busy round here.’
Sure enough, a moment after Des had hung up, he saw Alexander Grek stepping out of the Mercedes and buttoning up his overcoat. Des re-dialled Tanya’s number, but she was still not answering. He left a second message.
‘Like I said, things have just got busy round here. Foot surveillance. One of the FSB boys just went south after our man. POLARBEAR is heading for the river.’
Gaddis was leaning on a stone balustrade, looking out across the Thames at the distant outline of the Japanese Peace Pagoda in Battersea Park, when he heard a voice behind him.
‘Excuse me, sir.’
It was a deep, languid voice, with a certain music in it, a certain charm.
‘Yes?’
He turned to find that a well-dressed man of about thirty-five had crossed the road from the south end of Tite Street. He was wearing a light brown overcoat and a pair of expensive leather brogues. Oligarch chic, Charlotte would have called it, but Gaddis didn’t feel like laughing.
‘It is Sam, yes?’
‘Do we know each other?’
Gaddis had been waiting for this. He had known that they would come.
‘We do, we do,’ said Grek, extending a hand which Gaddis reluctantly shook. ‘My name is Alexander Grek. We met at the Russian Embassy in July, no? You came to our fundraiser for small businesses.’
The lie had the odd effect of emboldening Gaddis. He was almost insulted by it.
‘Is that the best you can do?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘A fundraiser? A party at the Russian Embassy? With all that you know, after everything you’ve seen, you think I’m going to fall for that?’