I waited for the Major-General to comment, but nothing came.
‘They used a little of it on Hans Kramer,’ I said. ‘Herrick no doubt suggested he should be the test victim because if he was dead he couldn’t tell anyone he had given the stuff to Herrick.’
‘Given...? Didn’t he sell it to Herrick?’
‘No. Kramer sympathised with terrorists. He did it for the cause.’
The Major-General slightly compressed his lips.
‘Go on.’
‘Kramer’s death was adjudged a heart attack. Herrick returned to Moscow, and so did the two terrorists. I think this may mean that he knew them here... met them here, perhaps... and that because he knew them, he thought up the scheme to sell them a compound he had at one time heard of by chance. And that is where everything would have stood until the Olympics; a nice little time-bomb ticking away in the dark. Except that people started asking questions about Alyosha.’
‘At which point you came to Moscow.’
I nodded. Coughed. Wished the coffee would come. Swallowed with a dry mouth, and continued with the dicey bits.
‘Since then, Herrick has tried to persuade me to go home, both with words and trying to knock me over with a motor horse box. The two terrorists have also had a go, and I’m only still here because I’ve been lucky. But sometime yesterday they discovered that they’d paid a great deal of money for a very cheap product, and they became extremely angry.’
I took a much needed deep breath. ‘Herrick had told them to come to my room at the Intourist Hotel and finish me off properly. I think he meant them to do it by mechanical means... bashing my head in, and so forth. But when they came, they brought a good deal of the liquid in a small jar, perhaps all they had, and whether they meant any of it for me or not, they threw nearly all of it at Herrick.’
His mouth slowly opened and shut again.
I ploughed on. ‘I had two friends with me, besides Herrick. We fought off the terrorists, which is why one of them has a damaged wrist and the other a damaged face, as well as other minor injuries, and they ran away.’
‘Malcolm Herrick... is dead?’
‘We called a doctor,’ I said. ‘The doctor believes it was a heart attack. Unless someone does an extremely thorough autopsy, that’s how it will stand.’
The very faintest of smiles crossed his pale face. He rubbed a hand slowly round his jawline. and watched me with assessing eyes.
‘How have you learned all this?’ he said.
‘I’ve listened.’
‘To Russian people? Or all to foreigners?’
‘Everyone who has spoken to me has been concerned that Russia should not be shamed by terrorism at the Games.’
‘You speak like a diplomat,’ he said.
The chin-rubbing went on for a bit. Then he said. ‘And Alyosha. Did you in the end find this Alyosha?’
‘Mm,’ I said. Hans Kramer and Malcolm Herrick both said “Alvosha” in horror before they died. They both knew what they were dying of... and I think they had given it that name. A sort of code name, so that they could talk of it conveniently. I couldn’t find Alvosha, because Alvosha is not a person. It’s the liquid. Alvosha is the way of death.’
18
Yuri Chulitsky drove me back to the Intourist and actually dropped me outside the door. He shook my left hand emotionally, and gave me several pats on the shoulder. And then, with a great air of having a burden well shed, he drove away.
He had been visibly pleased when the Major-General had shaken his hand on parting, and on the way back to the hotel he had stopped the car abruptly by the kerb and put the handbrake on with a jerk.
‘He said is good I ask him to meet you,’ he said. ‘Was correct decision.’
‘Great.’ I said, and meant it.
‘Now, I keep bargain.’
I looked at him in surprise.
‘You help my country. I tell you about Alyosha.’
I was puzzled. ‘Tell me what?’
‘I tell peoples, many peoples, is not good Lord Farringford come to Moscow. I say, in Moscow, Alyosha is waiting. Alyosha is not good peoples.’
‘You told people... people in England?’
‘Da. Peoples tell me, Hans Kramer die, it is Alyosha, Hans Kramer is bad man, is friend of Lord Farringford. Is bad Lord Farringford come to Moscow. So I say to peoples... Alyosha is bad peoples. Alyosha is trouble if Lord Farringford come.’
I shook my head slowly in amazement.
‘But why, Yuri? Why didn’t you want Lord Farringford to come to Moscow?’
He took a long time to answer. The longest pause of all. The lip went up and down six times. He lit a cigarette and took several deep drags. And at last he gave birth to his treason.
‘Is not good... comrades use Lord Farringford... not good we follow him... use him in bad things... I feel shame for comrades who do this. I feel shame... for my country.’
Stephen and Ian were both sitting in the foyer, waiting and looking glum.
‘My God,’ Stephen said, seeing me standing before them. ‘They’ve let him go!’ His face lit into instant good spirits. ‘Where are the handcuffs?’
‘Being debated, I should think.’
There was still nowhere private to talk, since we couldn’t trust my new room, so we simply transferred to the end of the line of seats along the foyer wall, and fell silent if anyone came close.
‘What’s happening?’ Ian said.
‘With luck, nothing much. I don’t think they’ll want to advertise terrorist activity in Moscow, not if they can help it. From your knowledge of this place, would you think the comrades would hush up a murder? Would they be allowed to? I had to tell the big noise that Malcolm was bumped off.’
Ian said, ‘Easier here than anywhere else, my old son. If it suits them to say our pal died of a heart attack, they’ll say it.’
‘Let’s hope it suits,’ I said fervently.
‘Look,’ Ian said, ‘Stephen has told me all you wrote last night. You must think me a poor dumb cluck not to have put all this together myself. But when I looked into it, I got nowhere.’
‘But then I had the password,’ I said, slightly smiling.
‘Alyosha?’ he said, puzzled.
‘No... Horse.’
‘The brotherhood of the saddle,’ Stephen said sardonically. ‘It opens the most private doors all round the world.’
‘And don’t you scoff,’ I said. ‘Because you’re right.’
‘There’s just one thing we want to know,’ Ian said, his calm unchanging face showing no sign of the previous day’s ravages. ‘And that is, why were you so utterly certain that Malcolm was at the heart of things? I mean... it was all so circumstantial... but you were quite sure.’
‘Um...’ I said. ‘It was nothing conclusive in itself. It was really just one more circumstance... and there were already so many. It was the page from his notebook, which Yuri Chulitsky sent to Kropotkin. You remember what it looked like? All doodles. So when do you doodle? When you’re listening, or waiting. When you’re waiting for an answer on the telephone. If you remember, near the bottom of the page there were some letters and numbers, DEP PET 1855 and K’s C 1950. Well... they meant nothing much to me at first sight, but yesterday afternoon, while we were rolling around Moscow, I thought... suppose Malcolm doodled because he was waiting for those numbers... and then we passed a metro station and I thought of trains... And there it damn well was, staring me in the face. DEP PET 1855 meant Depart Peterborough 18.55 hours, and K’s C 1950 meant arrive King’s Cross at 19.50. He had been ringing up the time-table enquiries to find out.’
‘But what’s so blinding about that?’ Stephen said.
‘Peterborough is the main line station for Burghley.’