“Okay, then what do you know? What did he say about where he would go?”
“That was drunken nonsense. He was rambling on about Bolt Hole, and he said there was a full moon tonight and it would be perfect to go for a sail.”
“Which is exactly what the drunken fool intends. Now, this is what you’re going to do, and if you let me down, I’ll kill you.”
“Anything, Daniel, I’ll do anything.”
“I’m going to ring off. You will call him, assess the situation, and call me. Now, get on with it.”
Chekhov was back within five minutes. “He’s really tanked up. I asked where he was headed, and he said he already told me. Then he said he had to go now because he had precious cargo in the trunk.”
“The stupid bastard, he’s actually gone and lifted her,” Holley said.
“What are you going to do?” Chekhov asked. “Give Ferguson a call? Miller and Dillon will go crazy when they find out about this.”
“No, I’ve got to think of me here as well as her. I can only bring them into it by delivering myself into their hands, and I’m damned if I’ll do that. I’ve had enough of prison bars to last a lifetime. I’ll just have to handle it alone.”
“You’re crazy, it isn’t your business.”
“Oh yes it is, Max. I told you before, it’s a woman thing with me. I’ll go now. I’ll have to hurry, but they tell me a Mini Cooper is built for speed, so we’ll see.”
At least he knew the way, thanks to the day out with Selim, and there was the Sat Nav to follow. He drove fast but stayed alert. The last thing he needed was a police car to stop him for speeding. He had a good fast run to Guildford and all the way to Chichester, had just passed through, when his Codex sounded. He pulled in at a convenient lay-by, turned off his engine, and answered.
“Daniel? Lermov here.”
Holley checked his watch and found it was almost ten-thirty. “Where are you? I understood you were getting in at midnight.”
“I am,” Lermov replied. “I’m calling you from the Falcon. I know everything, including the death of Caitlin Daly.”
“You’re well informed. Chekhov’s been on the phone to you?”
“He knows who his real friends are and not you. You’re a loose cannon. I should have realized that.”
“The only loose cannon in this whole matter has been your boy wonder, Peter Ivanov. He’s responsible for the death of Caitlin Daly because he didn’t follow your orders.”
“And he’ll have to answer for that.”
“So what happens to Monica Starling? Obviously, Chekhov must have told you what’s going on.”
“I’ve just spoken to Ivanov. It seems they’ve almost reached their destination. I’ve ordered him to release her.”
“And you think that drunken pig will? He’s got to dispose of her, because if she goes free he’ll have Charles Ferguson, Miller, and Dillon thirsting for his blood because of what happened to her, and I think you’ll find they’re not particularly well disposed towards you.”
“I’d be very careful where you’re taking this, Daniel,” Lermov said.
“Ah, Station Gorky awaits, does it? You’ll have to catch me first, and I’m still going to Bolt Hole. Peter Ivanov’s a dead man.”
“Don’t be stupid. He knows you’re on your way. He’ll be expecting you.”
“You told him?”
“Chekhov already had.”
“I might have known. You’re finished, Josef, unless Ivanov puts a bullet in that woman’s head and dumps her over the rail of Chekhov’s yacht with a few pounds of chains round her ankles. I believe that’s what you’ve told him to do. I, of course, intend to see that he doesn’t.”
Lermov shouted, “Don’t be a fool. He knows you’re coming,” but Holley cut him off.
He switched off the engine at the narrow approach road leading to the small headland and advanced on foot, keeping to the fringe of trees, taking Selim’s Zeiss binoculars with him. There was a single light at the end of the jetty and there was the Mercedes. The canvas stern cover was in place on the yacht, and Monica Starling sat on a folding beach stool, her hands bound behind her. She wore a sweater and slacks, obviously the clothes she’d been wearing when kidnapped, and was facing him so that he could see that her mouth was taped.
He was standing by a small bench seat, there was a footfall behind him, and something nudged him in the back. Kerimov said in Russian, “We’ve been waiting, me and my friend, the Makarov. It