A Divided Spy (Thomas Kell Spy Thriller, Book 3) by Charles Cumming
Authors: Charles Cumming
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threw it against his face so that his neck and the front of his shirt became soaked and cold.
He needed to stop. He had no control. He was not leaving himself open to chance or to basic human error. What if Riedle woke up at five and checked the account, desperate for a sign of life from Minasian? What if he saw what Kell was intending to send?
Kell went back into the sitting room and deleted the document. He marked Minasian’s email as ‘Unread’, turned off the MacBook, returned to his bedroom and swallowed two more aspirin. He was exhausted. He was so determined to find Minasian that he had been prepared to jeopardize everything just to gain a minuscule advantage of time. There was only one sensible way to proceed; to allow Riedle to respond to Minasian’s invitation and then to track him to London.
Kell returned to the bedroom, relieved that he had not been foolish enough to send the email. He fell asleep almost immediately to the sound of a child sobbing in a neighbouring apartment.
17
Bernhard Riedle rang with the good news shortly before eleven.
‘Peter? I just wanted to tell you. Something very good has happened.’
Kell had been awake for only five minutes, brain-fogged by the long night of drinking and five hours’ sleep. He was stumbling around the kitchen in a pair of boxer shorts, searching for a clean mug.
‘Bernie. Hi. What’s up?’
‘It’s Dmitri. He’s been in touch. He wants us to meet.’
‘That’s great.’ Kell opened the fridge and saw that he had forgotten to buy milk. ‘Did he call? Did you talk things over?’
‘No. He never telephones. We always email. It is safer that way. Because of Vera.’
‘Vera?’
‘His wife. You don’t remember?’
Kell looked out of the window at the rooftops of Brussels. Svetlana, Vera. Alexander, Dmitri. Thomas, Peter.
‘Oh yes. Sorry. Haven’t had my cup of coffee yet.’
Riedle proceeded to tell Kell what he already knew. That Minasian had apologized for seeming distant and cold and had suggested meeting up in London to clear the air.
‘When?’ Kell asked.
‘The last week of June.’
He laid some early foundations.
‘That’s terrific. I’ll be in London from the twenty-sixth. We could meet up while you’re in town.’
‘You want to meet Dmitri?’ The tone of Riedle’s question suggested that he did not think this suggestion was entirely impractical.
‘No, no. I didn’t mean that. I just meant that I’ll be in London. If you find yourself free for lunch or dinner one night …’
‘Oh.’
There was a delay on the line, a drop in the signal.
‘Bernie?’
‘Yes, sorry.’ The connection was restored. ‘So let’s do that.’
The two men continued to discuss Riedle’s nascent travel plans, a conversation which allowed Kell to form a basic idea of how his own schedule would pan out in the coming days and weeks.
‘Where will you be staying in London?’ he asked.
‘I usually take a room north of Soho,’ Riedle replied. ‘The Charlotte Street Hotel. Do you know it?’
‘I know it.’
Elsa could have ascertained as much from Riedle’s email account, but Kell had a deeper purpose.
‘And Dmitri?’ he asked.
‘What about him?’
‘Where will he be staying? In the same hotel?’
‘Oh no.’ Riedle produced a quiet chuckle. ‘We like to keep things separate from Vera. Dmitri said he will be at his favourite place. A hotel where we have such happy memories.’
A hotel that I’m going to soak in surveillance, thought Kell. A hotel where Alexander Minasian isn’t going to be able to move without a camera capturing every pixel of his wretched existence. All Kell needed was photographic proof of a sexual relationship with Riedle. Presented with evidence of that kind, Minasian would have no choice but to comply with whatever Kell asked of him.
‘And where’s that?’ he asked.
‘Dmitri always stays at Claridge’s.’
18
Shahid Khan had received the text message from ‘Farouq’ while he
He needed to stop. He had no control. He was not leaving himself open to chance or to basic human error. What if Riedle woke up at five and checked the account, desperate for a sign of life from Minasian? What if he saw what Kell was intending to send?
Kell went back into the sitting room and deleted the document. He marked Minasian’s email as ‘Unread’, turned off the MacBook, returned to his bedroom and swallowed two more aspirin. He was exhausted. He was so determined to find Minasian that he had been prepared to jeopardize everything just to gain a minuscule advantage of time. There was only one sensible way to proceed; to allow Riedle to respond to Minasian’s invitation and then to track him to London.
Kell returned to the bedroom, relieved that he had not been foolish enough to send the email. He fell asleep almost immediately to the sound of a child sobbing in a neighbouring apartment.
17
Bernhard Riedle rang with the good news shortly before eleven.
‘Peter? I just wanted to tell you. Something very good has happened.’
Kell had been awake for only five minutes, brain-fogged by the long night of drinking and five hours’ sleep. He was stumbling around the kitchen in a pair of boxer shorts, searching for a clean mug.
‘Bernie. Hi. What’s up?’
‘It’s Dmitri. He’s been in touch. He wants us to meet.’
‘That’s great.’ Kell opened the fridge and saw that he had forgotten to buy milk. ‘Did he call? Did you talk things over?’
‘No. He never telephones. We always email. It is safer that way. Because of Vera.’
‘Vera?’
‘His wife. You don’t remember?’
Kell looked out of the window at the rooftops of Brussels. Svetlana, Vera. Alexander, Dmitri. Thomas, Peter.
‘Oh yes. Sorry. Haven’t had my cup of coffee yet.’
Riedle proceeded to tell Kell what he already knew. That Minasian had apologized for seeming distant and cold and had suggested meeting up in London to clear the air.
‘When?’ Kell asked.
‘The last week of June.’
He laid some early foundations.
‘That’s terrific. I’ll be in London from the twenty-sixth. We could meet up while you’re in town.’
‘You want to meet Dmitri?’ The tone of Riedle’s question suggested that he did not think this suggestion was entirely impractical.
‘No, no. I didn’t mean that. I just meant that I’ll be in London. If you find yourself free for lunch or dinner one night …’
‘Oh.’
There was a delay on the line, a drop in the signal.
‘Bernie?’
‘Yes, sorry.’ The connection was restored. ‘So let’s do that.’
The two men continued to discuss Riedle’s nascent travel plans, a conversation which allowed Kell to form a basic idea of how his own schedule would pan out in the coming days and weeks.
‘Where will you be staying in London?’ he asked.
‘I usually take a room north of Soho,’ Riedle replied. ‘The Charlotte Street Hotel. Do you know it?’
‘I know it.’
Elsa could have ascertained as much from Riedle’s email account, but Kell had a deeper purpose.
‘And Dmitri?’ he asked.
‘What about him?’
‘Where will he be staying? In the same hotel?’
‘Oh no.’ Riedle produced a quiet chuckle. ‘We like to keep things separate from Vera. Dmitri said he will be at his favourite place. A hotel where we have such happy memories.’
A hotel that I’m going to soak in surveillance, thought Kell. A hotel where Alexander Minasian isn’t going to be able to move without a camera capturing every pixel of his wretched existence. All Kell needed was photographic proof of a sexual relationship with Riedle. Presented with evidence of that kind, Minasian would have no choice but to comply with whatever Kell asked of him.
‘And where’s that?’ he asked.
‘Dmitri always stays at Claridge’s.’
18
Shahid Khan had received the text message from ‘Farouq’ while he
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