Science; and — beneath that cover of a bureaucratic desk job — a top figure in MI5.
Gordon glared at him.
‘You do throw names around, don’t you?’ she snapped. ‘God, you’d make a terrible agent!’
‘We’d already guessed you were both MI5,’ said Jake defensively. His voice softened as he said: ‘I’m sorry about John.’
She shook her head.
‘Whoever killed him must be good. A real professional. John would never have allowed an amateur to get that close to him. That’s why I don’t think it was you. Like I said, if I thought it was, you’d be dead by now.’ She frowned. ‘Although you may just be playing a clever game and putting on the pretence of being enthusiastic amateurs. You and that girlfriend of yours. Lauren Graham.’
Jake threw a surprised look at her.
‘You don’t think we bought that story of her being someone called Helen Cooper, do you?’ said Gordon scornfully. ‘John clocked her as soon as he saw her. He’s got a photographic memory for faces.’ She corrected herself bitterly. ‘Had.’ She scowled, then said: ‘We’d been told to watch out for you once we knew that the Russians were after the Malichea book. Your old boss was sure that you’d come looking for it. We got a bit of a surprise when Ms Graham turned up first.’ She nodded admiringly. ‘She’s good, I’ll give her that. Getting back to the UK like that, without getting stopped. Very impressive.’
‘I suppose it was you who shopped her to Immigration,’ said Jake.
‘Not us,’ said Gordon. ‘We were told to leave you both in place. I think You Know Who thought you’d both be a good decoy. Take the Russian’s attention away from us.’
‘Do you have to call him You Know Who, and He Who Must Not Be Named?’ asked Jake. ‘It makes him sound like Lord Voldermort.’
For the first time, Jake saw a smile pass over Pam Gordon’s face.
‘You know, I think he’d like that,’ she said. ‘Very appropriate.’ Then her face turned grim again. ‘By the way, your girlfriend’s disappeared.’
‘Yes, we know,’ said Jake. ‘She disappeared before I was taken away.’
‘No, I mean really disappeared,’ said Gordon. ‘She’s gone from that boathouse place where she was hiding, and it looks like there was some kind of struggle.’
Jake let this sink in, horrified.
‘Where is she?’ he demanded.
‘If we knew that, we’d be doing something about it,’ said Gordon.
‘It’s got to be the Russians,’ said Jake.
‘Why?’ asked Gordon. ‘They’ve got the book. Why would they want to draw attention to themselves by kidnapping your girlfriend?’
‘The same reason they killed Dougie MacClain,’ said Jake. ‘Because they know she wants to stop them keeping the book.’
‘So what?’ Gordon shrugged. ‘They’d also know she doesn’t pose much of a threat to them. Certainly not one worth bothering about.’ Her face darkened again as she added, ‘Unlike a top agent like John.’
‘You think they killed John?’ asked Jake.
Gordon scowled.
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘We’re not even sure they killed Dougie MacClain.’
‘If they didn’t, who did?’
‘We’re not sure. Anyway, none of the Russians were anywhere around the guest house when John was killed.’
‘What about Ian Muir?’ asked Jake.
‘What about him?’
‘Is he CIA?’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘Well, he’s American.’
Gordon let out a groan.
‘God, you are so simplistic!’
‘As the Russians were there, it made sense for the CIA to have a presence!’ said Jake defensively.
‘The CIA are in one of the holiday cottages along the lane,’ Gordon said. ‘Inside, it’s bristling with high-tech satellite technology. There’s no way they could fit all the equipment they need into a room in the guest house without anyone knowing.’
‘So who’s Muir working for?’
‘We don’t know,’ admitted Gordon.
‘Pierce Randall?’ suggested Jake.
Gordon shot him a quick
Gordon glared at him.
‘You do throw names around, don’t you?’ she snapped. ‘God, you’d make a terrible agent!’
‘We’d already guessed you were both MI5,’ said Jake defensively. His voice softened as he said: ‘I’m sorry about John.’
She shook her head.
‘Whoever killed him must be good. A real professional. John would never have allowed an amateur to get that close to him. That’s why I don’t think it was you. Like I said, if I thought it was, you’d be dead by now.’ She frowned. ‘Although you may just be playing a clever game and putting on the pretence of being enthusiastic amateurs. You and that girlfriend of yours. Lauren Graham.’
Jake threw a surprised look at her.
‘You don’t think we bought that story of her being someone called Helen Cooper, do you?’ said Gordon scornfully. ‘John clocked her as soon as he saw her. He’s got a photographic memory for faces.’ She corrected herself bitterly. ‘Had.’ She scowled, then said: ‘We’d been told to watch out for you once we knew that the Russians were after the Malichea book. Your old boss was sure that you’d come looking for it. We got a bit of a surprise when Ms Graham turned up first.’ She nodded admiringly. ‘She’s good, I’ll give her that. Getting back to the UK like that, without getting stopped. Very impressive.’
‘I suppose it was you who shopped her to Immigration,’ said Jake.
‘Not us,’ said Gordon. ‘We were told to leave you both in place. I think You Know Who thought you’d both be a good decoy. Take the Russian’s attention away from us.’
‘Do you have to call him You Know Who, and He Who Must Not Be Named?’ asked Jake. ‘It makes him sound like Lord Voldermort.’
For the first time, Jake saw a smile pass over Pam Gordon’s face.
‘You know, I think he’d like that,’ she said. ‘Very appropriate.’ Then her face turned grim again. ‘By the way, your girlfriend’s disappeared.’
‘Yes, we know,’ said Jake. ‘She disappeared before I was taken away.’
‘No, I mean really disappeared,’ said Gordon. ‘She’s gone from that boathouse place where she was hiding, and it looks like there was some kind of struggle.’
Jake let this sink in, horrified.
‘Where is she?’ he demanded.
‘If we knew that, we’d be doing something about it,’ said Gordon.
‘It’s got to be the Russians,’ said Jake.
‘Why?’ asked Gordon. ‘They’ve got the book. Why would they want to draw attention to themselves by kidnapping your girlfriend?’
‘The same reason they killed Dougie MacClain,’ said Jake. ‘Because they know she wants to stop them keeping the book.’
‘So what?’ Gordon shrugged. ‘They’d also know she doesn’t pose much of a threat to them. Certainly not one worth bothering about.’ Her face darkened again as she added, ‘Unlike a top agent like John.’
‘You think they killed John?’ asked Jake.
Gordon scowled.
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘We’re not even sure they killed Dougie MacClain.’
‘If they didn’t, who did?’
‘We’re not sure. Anyway, none of the Russians were anywhere around the guest house when John was killed.’
‘What about Ian Muir?’ asked Jake.
‘What about him?’
‘Is he CIA?’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘Well, he’s American.’
Gordon let out a groan.
‘God, you are so simplistic!’
‘As the Russians were there, it made sense for the CIA to have a presence!’ said Jake defensively.
‘The CIA are in one of the holiday cottages along the lane,’ Gordon said. ‘Inside, it’s bristling with high-tech satellite technology. There’s no way they could fit all the equipment they need into a room in the guest house without anyone knowing.’
‘So who’s Muir working for?’
‘We don’t know,’ admitted Gordon.
‘Pierce Randall?’ suggested Jake.
Gordon shot him a quick
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