Dobrynin genuinely has nothing to do with any of this, it’s all his boss Kuznetsov’s operation.’
‘Highly unlikely,’ she said. ‘He’s a good liar but not that good.’
‘You saw it?’
‘The hand? Yes.’ Dobrynin had kept his disfigured appendage out of sight beneath the desk except when he’d been saying he didn’t know what kind of a threat they thought they posed to him and his firm. Unskilled liars will touch their faces during the act of lying, as though trying to keep the untruths from escaping their mouths. More accomplished ones usually still struggle to prevent their hands from beginning the movement.
They paused at a corner as if debating which way to go, and Purkiss did a quick check. Nobody obvious behind them. Turning left, he said, ‘So. Possibility number two is that Fallon is working freelance. They’ve obviously come across him – he was sleeping with one of their number, Ilkun – but Dobrynin was genuinely surprised in there when I mentioned both that Fallon was former SIS and that he planned to scupper the summit.’
‘So both Fallon and Kuznetsov’s crew are working independently to achieve the same thing?’
‘Doesn’t seem credible, does it.’ A car was crawling alongside them but it was just an elderly driver, peering at the street signs. ‘Unless Fallon is trying to hijack their operation for his own ends. It’s the only explanation that makes the remotest sense that I can think of.’
‘That look on Dobrynin’s face at the end,’ she said. ‘It was as if the penny had dropped. As if he understood that Fallon was in competition with them.’
‘Yes.’
They had come almost full circle and the car was in sight.
‘You said three possibilities.’
‘The third is that we’re completely wrong about the first two.’
At the car they took turns, one keeping watch for tags while the other ducked to peer under the chassis for tracking devices. They’d parked far enough away that it wasn’t likely they had been spotted emerging from the vehicle but it was worth taking precautions.
He’d thought about telling her about the satnav he’d salvaged from the wreck of the car earlier, about what he had planned for that evening once dark had fallen. But he thought again of how he’d been caught off guard by his surprise when she’d pulled the gun.
No. It was best to trust only those you knew.
*
‘Play it back.’
Venedikt had gone inside as soon as Dobrynin called. The noise of the men in the yard was distracting. He sat at the kitchen table and listened to the live feed, then to Dobrynin’s voice directly into the mouthpiece: ‘They’ve gone.’
He listened again, keeping his breathing even, trying not to let delight overwhelm him.
Afterwards he said, ‘As we suspected.’
‘Yes.’
‘Our British friend has been lying to us.’
‘It looks that way, Venedikt Vasilyevich.’
Venedikt sat staring at the flagstones, pondering. Then he said, ‘Did you try to follow Purkiss?’
‘It wasn’t worth it. What staff aren’t with you we needed to close the office down. We have to assume our British friend will keep track of him.’
‘A big assumption. He’s disappeared twice already.’ Venedikt stood. ‘But you’re right. How’s the shutdown progressing?’
‘Just reception left, really.’
‘Good.’
‘A pity. Years of memories, Venedikt Vasilyevich.’
‘It has to be. We can’t turn back now.’
*
Unlike previously, Purkiss felt bad about giving her the slip. It seemed dishonest, and he had to admit he was rather enjoying her company. Nonetheless, the best time to do it was when she was least expecting it. As Elle started to pull away when a light turned green he said, ‘Sorry about this,’ and popped the door and swung out and slammed it shut. He took off across three lanes, weaving expertly through the blurt of horns and not looking back until he was lost in a warren of back alleys.
Police helicopters criss-crossed the darkening sky overhead. Assuming Elle wasn’t the one working with the opposition, she’d be adrift now, with no leads to follow up on and a deadline that was drawing ever nearer. He appreciated the frustration she must be feeling.
As he strode the streets looking for what he needed, he made an effort to untangle the threads. Seppo had photographed Fallon and alerted Vale, but it seemed Fallon and Seppo were sharing a flat. Seppo had been murdered, almost certainly by Fallon, and Purkiss’s phone call to Seppo’s phone from London had been traced and watchers had been set on to Purkiss from the airport. Fallon had had a relationship with a member of Kuznetsov’s crew, and when Purkiss had come