create?”
“To avoid being excluded by the Russians claiming it’s their investigation in which we have no right of participation.”
“No,” agreed the soft-voiced man at once. “We most definitely don’t want that with everything else that’s happening there.”
“Technical say it’s got to have your personal approval.”
“It’ll be authorized the moment we conclude this conversation. I don’t like so much appearing to happen beyond our control. You any idea, the faintest suspicion, who the traitor might be?”
Charlie was caught by the pedantically correct word. “Finding whoever it is isn’t my remit.”
“Neither was it the point of my question.”
“Not yet,” prevaricated Charlie, on this occasion more for self-protection than strict professionalism. “How do I deal with it, if I become suspicious?”
“The way you’re being told right now, only and directly through me. I don’t want another quiet exchange between you, Fish, and Robertson.”
Smith was invoking the most inviolable rule of double-agent penetration, Charlie recognized: slam shut every water-tight door and not answer anyone’s knock. “I understand.”
“I hope you do. I sent you there to do a job, not to become a puppet.”
The self-directed anger at allowing himself to be sidetracked physically burned through Charlie. Robertson had occupied the adjoining compartment ahead of his, Charlie acknowledged, able to get his explanation and story in first. But to whom? Charlie opened his mouth but stopped himself, knowing to attempt adefense would be a further mistake. “I’ll call, if there’s something positive from what I’m doing.”
“I’m expecting you to,” said the other man.
Charlie had subjugated his irritation at having made the cooperation mistake by the time he reached his rabbit-hutch office, more curious at the first than at the second of the two voice-mail messages awaiting him, although choosing to respond to the second.
“I’ve pressed the pathologist for more,” announced Pavel.
Liar, thought Charlie at once. Pavel was offering everything that had been originally available instead of the scraps the man had imagined he could get away with. But it was looking promising. “And?”
“He’s talking about some additional medical findings. And there’s a lot more photographs.”
“I’ll stop by the mortuary first thing tomorrow,” tempted Charlie.
“We could go together,” said Pavel, as Charlie had expected. “We might as well go through it all together.”
Once again bullshit had proved to be the magic fertilizer. “How about my meeting you there at ten?”
“Perfect timing for me,” agreed Pavel.
“What about the others who were there the first time?” pressed Charlie, wanting as much forewarning as possible.
“I’ll let them all know the arrangement,” promised Pavel. “I understand there’s been contact between Nikita Kashev and your embassy?”
“I haven’t heard,” said Charlie, honestly. And wouldn’t have confirmed it if I had, he thought. It had been an unthinking question, even from someone as anxious as the organized crime investigator.
“How about your scientific people in London?” Pavel pressed.
“I haven’t heard anything from them, either,” lied Charlie. Deciding, though, that he should make a gesture, he added, “I’lldrop by the embassy before I come to the mortuary to check if anything comes in overnight.”
“It would be good to hear something that takes the investigation forward.”
It very definitely would, thought Charlie. It would be premature to become overconfident from this very preliminary conversation, but it looked as if he’d kept himself on the inside of the investigation. But in terms of practicality, the inquiry hadn’t moved a stumbling step from the finding of the body.
“Surprised to hear from you so soon after our dinner,” opened Charlie, finally responding to the other voice mail from Bundy.
“I’d welcome
“To avoid being excluded by the Russians claiming it’s their investigation in which we have no right of participation.”
“No,” agreed the soft-voiced man at once. “We most definitely don’t want that with everything else that’s happening there.”
“Technical say it’s got to have your personal approval.”
“It’ll be authorized the moment we conclude this conversation. I don’t like so much appearing to happen beyond our control. You any idea, the faintest suspicion, who the traitor might be?”
Charlie was caught by the pedantically correct word. “Finding whoever it is isn’t my remit.”
“Neither was it the point of my question.”
“Not yet,” prevaricated Charlie, on this occasion more for self-protection than strict professionalism. “How do I deal with it, if I become suspicious?”
“The way you’re being told right now, only and directly through me. I don’t want another quiet exchange between you, Fish, and Robertson.”
Smith was invoking the most inviolable rule of double-agent penetration, Charlie recognized: slam shut every water-tight door and not answer anyone’s knock. “I understand.”
“I hope you do. I sent you there to do a job, not to become a puppet.”
The self-directed anger at allowing himself to be sidetracked physically burned through Charlie. Robertson had occupied the adjoining compartment ahead of his, Charlie acknowledged, able to get his explanation and story in first. But to whom? Charlie opened his mouth but stopped himself, knowing to attempt adefense would be a further mistake. “I’ll call, if there’s something positive from what I’m doing.”
“I’m expecting you to,” said the other man.
Charlie had subjugated his irritation at having made the cooperation mistake by the time he reached his rabbit-hutch office, more curious at the first than at the second of the two voice-mail messages awaiting him, although choosing to respond to the second.
“I’ve pressed the pathologist for more,” announced Pavel.
Liar, thought Charlie at once. Pavel was offering everything that had been originally available instead of the scraps the man had imagined he could get away with. But it was looking promising. “And?”
“He’s talking about some additional medical findings. And there’s a lot more photographs.”
“I’ll stop by the mortuary first thing tomorrow,” tempted Charlie.
“We could go together,” said Pavel, as Charlie had expected. “We might as well go through it all together.”
Once again bullshit had proved to be the magic fertilizer. “How about my meeting you there at ten?”
“Perfect timing for me,” agreed Pavel.
“What about the others who were there the first time?” pressed Charlie, wanting as much forewarning as possible.
“I’ll let them all know the arrangement,” promised Pavel. “I understand there’s been contact between Nikita Kashev and your embassy?”
“I haven’t heard,” said Charlie, honestly. And wouldn’t have confirmed it if I had, he thought. It had been an unthinking question, even from someone as anxious as the organized crime investigator.
“How about your scientific people in London?” Pavel pressed.
“I haven’t heard anything from them, either,” lied Charlie. Deciding, though, that he should make a gesture, he added, “I’lldrop by the embassy before I come to the mortuary to check if anything comes in overnight.”
“It would be good to hear something that takes the investigation forward.”
It very definitely would, thought Charlie. It would be premature to become overconfident from this very preliminary conversation, but it looked as if he’d kept himself on the inside of the investigation. But in terms of practicality, the inquiry hadn’t moved a stumbling step from the finding of the body.
“Surprised to hear from you so soon after our dinner,” opened Charlie, finally responding to the other voice mail from Bundy.
“I’d welcome
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