Moscow USA

And Sherenko had pulled him out of the proverbial at the ConTex meeting. Kincaid had assumed that because the guys at ConTex, by whom he meant Maddox and Dwyer, were American like himself, they were telling him the truth. And all the time the bastards had been lying.

So screw Jack Kincaid, not Riley and Sherenko. Which was what last night had been about.

He looked up at the monitor, saw that flight SU247 was delayed an hour, and bought another coffee.

By the time he landed at Heathrow the delay had extended to an hour and a half. He cleared immigration and took the walkway from Terminal 4 to the Hilton.

So you went into Moscow like the proverbial virgin, Jack old friend. But why? Why did you screw up even though you knew what you were doing? Because you did know, right from the beginning.

Because five years ago this week I was supposed to hold Joshua’s hand and I didn’t, and therefore, and however indirectly it might have been, I betrayed him as surely as if it had been me who pulled the trigger on him. And all I could do instead was apologize to him and say goodbye to him in the morgue at Belle Vue before the hoods came to take him back to Moscow. And ever since then, Joshua has been sitting on my shoulder like a ghost. So that was what last night was about. Laying Joshua’s ghost. Getting him off my back. And last night I did it.

He checked with reception and telephoned the suite ISS had rented for the day.

‘Rich, it’s Jack Kincaid. I’m downstairs. I wonder if you and I should talk before I come up.’

Matthews joined him two minutes later.

‘Any problems?’ Kincaid asked.

‘They’re fidgety.’

‘So would you be if one of your people went missing with six million dollars.’

They ordered coffee, then Kincaid read through the range of reports collated by the London office: the second courier’s statement, the doctor’s report on his condition, and the background searches on both couriers, including financial details. Plus a security report on both.

‘The doctor said Pearce had a viral problem and that he’s still suffering from it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Could we arrange a lab test, see if anything could be used to produce or simulate the condition? A forensic analysis might also be useful – try the toxicology people at Aldermaston. They’ve experience of how the Soviets used to work, so they’ll know what to look for. We might need a polygraph if Pearce doesn’t play ball, or if we suspect he’s not telling us the truth.’

Matthews signed for the coffee and they went upstairs. The courier Pearce was in an armchair and two other men, a representative of the company and a lawyer, sat on a sofa. Matthews introduced them and they shook hands.

‘Before we begin there are certain guidelines.’ The lawyer was mid-thirties, public school accent, and dressed in a pinstripe suit.

Of course, the ISS man Matthews began to agree.

Kincaid smiled at the lawyer. ‘Before you say anything else, may I remind you that your clients lost six million dollars of my clients’ money.’ He smiled again. ‘I view this meeting as amicable. I also view your presence at this meeting as being at my discretion. If you have any problems with that you can leave now.’

The lawyer began to suggest to the company representative that they withdraw for a discussion.

‘I’m on the three o’clock flight back to Moscow,’ Kincaid told him. ‘Any costs incurred by any delay will be charged to you.’

The lawyer sat down.

Okay, Mike – Kincaid looked at Pearce and switched on the cassette recorder. Take me back to that morning; take me back to the night before. This viral problem, when were you first aware of it, when did you first tell Zak? How did the routine that morning differ from any other? Did you and Zak always know how much you were carrying? Who else knew …

Got to ask you this, Mike. Any chance Zak set you up, doctored your food or something so you couldn’t make the trip … He watched carefully for Pearce’s reaction. Got to ask you this as well, Mike. Any chance that you set up your own sickness, so that when Zak went into Sheremetyevo he didn’t have you by his side. Yeah, Mike, I know what I’m asking. What I’m asking is: were you part of the set-up? How do you feel about a polygraph, make sure you’re telling the truth when you deny what I’ve just said …

How about a break for refreshments, the lawyer suggested. Get something sent in, Kincaid told him.

So where do you and Zak stay in Moscow, Mike? You use a hotel or a company pad? Know anybody in Moscow? Outside the company, I mean … The stylus on a polygraph would have flickered, he was aware. What about girls, Mike? I mean, Moscow’s full of them? No girls, at all? So what the hell do you do in the evenings, because you don’t remind me of a Bolshoi man, if you know what I mean …

‘Okay,’ Pearce told him. ‘Zak and I have a couple of girls we see regularly when we’re in Moscow.’

Oh shit – Kincaid heard the slight drawing in of breath as the company representative tried not to react.

‘Couple of girls you see regularly in Paris and Rome and New York as well, I guess.’

Pearce laughed. ‘Actually not Paris or Rome because we don’t overnight there.’

This is like Dwyer at Nite Flite, Kincaid thought, this is one big honeypot.

The interview ended an hour later. It was fifty minutes to the last Moscow flight of the day. Kincaid hand-wrote a summary report on the interview, plus a request for Ivor Lukyanov to run checks on the two girls named by Pearce, and instructed Matthews to send them to Moscow on the secure fax.

The sky was laced with purple and the runway lights of Sheremetyevo were bright against the grey. The Ilyushin touched down and taxied toward the terminal. Walk to the Novotel and get the courtesy coach into town, Sherenko had said. Hope to hell immigration is quick tonight, Kincaid thought. The aircraft stopped and the seat belt sign flicked off. He stood, joined the line, and hurried off the plane. Sherenko was waiting at the top of the jetbridge. Ten minutes later they turned left out of the airport towards Moscow.

Kincaid settled in the passenger seat. ‘The pick-up’s appreciated.’

Sherenko waved the thanks aside. ‘So what about Pearce? You think the girlfriends might be involved?’

‘Pearce is straight. It could be he or Whyte let something slip, but if it was I don’t think it was Pearce.’

‘Why not?’

‘Pearce was Mountain and Arctic Warfare Cadre, therefore he’d have done the interrogation course.’

Sherenko changed down to beat a set of traffic lights. ‘Except the interrogation course doesn’t tell you what to say when somebody’s unzipping your flies. Or perhaps yours did.’

‘So what about Moscow?’ Kincaid asked.

‘You mean the interrogation course or the Contex money?’

‘Whichever.’

‘The ConTex interviews were routine though a couple of people were missing, including Maddox’s secretary. The financial backgrounds on Maddox and Dwyer are still coming in, but we might have a problem with Maddox. He’s married, but according to sources he’s having an affair with a First Secretary at the US embassy.’

‘Any indication she’s screwing with someone else as well?’

‘Not yet, but we’re checking. We’re also checking on the girlfriends of the two couriers.’

‘What about the security company who were supposed to make the pick-up?’ Kincaid asked.

‘Leaks like a sieve. The boys making the pick-up cocked up all the way down the line but seemed straightforward.’

‘You believe them?’

‘Probably.’