Brian Freemantle: The Run Around

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Levy, still mildly. They were alone, just the two of them, in Levy’s hotel room. There was no indication that the man was packing to leave.

‘Bollocks!’ said Charlie. ‘You led me by the nose all the time. And I fell for it! When I talked of a possible attempt that first day you weren’t surprised. You argued against any public warning, despite it being the obvious thing to do! You actually questioned me, after letting me have the files, to make sure I hadn’t discovered anything! And then tried to encourage me to quit …!’ Charlie came breathlessly to a halt. ‘You even distracted me, when we got to where the photographs were going to be taken … Until I saw you look up it didn’t register that it was inconceivable you would not have known Sulafeh Nabulsi for what she was!’

‘Dangerous woman,’ agreed Levy. ‘Very dangerous.’ He poured brandy, Remy Martin, into two glasses and offered one. ‘Have a drink, Charlie,’ said Levy. ‘Calm down.’

Charlie accepted the glass but didn’t drink at once. ‘The dossier on her was complete bullshit, wasn’t it!’ he demanded. ‘Phoney, from start to finish.’

‘Everyone can make mistakes, even the Israeli service,’ said Levy.

Charlie shook his head, refusing the evasion. ‘You knew all about her and what she might do,’ he insisted. ‘Learning from me — from the British — of some Soviet involvement confirmed it all for you!’

‘We were grateful for the warning,’ said Levy.

‘You made me look a fool,’ said Charlie. ‘A fucking idiot!’

‘No, I didn’t, Charlie,’ argued the Israeli. ‘You worked it all out, so that doesn’t make you a fool. And it might not become public knowledge, because of the need to protect your identity, but within the trade you’re a hero. Even to the CIA, who tried to kill you themselves once …’

He’d realized how the Israelis had checked him out, too! remembered Charlie, further annoyed. He said: ‘People got killed!’

‘Unfortunate,’ said Levy. ‘Now look what you’ve got. You’re the man who made it possible for the Swiss to seize a provable Soviet agent and publicly show to the world the link between Moscow and Arab terrorism. It’s a coup, Charlie. Enjoy your reputation.’

‘Christ, it was clever,’ said Charlie. ‘Pressured by America to take part in a conference including Palestinians with whom you’re committed never to become involved you allowed a fanatic to be part of their delegation knowing there’d be some outrage to wreck everything: wreck it for years.’

‘The positive Russian intrusion was a bonus,’ allowed Levy. ‘If you had not got him it would have been put down to a lone Palestinian assassin. And when the rifle was eventually found the suspicion would have been of American, not Soviet involvement.’

‘Why did Russia become involved!’

‘Moscow doesn’t want peace in the Middle East,’ said Levy. ‘Certainly not peace orchestrated by Washington and an American President. Syria would have ceased being a client state, for a start.’

‘Doesn’t Israel want peace?’

Levy smiled, adding to both their glasses. ‘It’s an odd fact, but Israel exists better as a cohesive society with a … what is it your British call it? A Dunkirk spirit?’

‘There’s got to be more in it than that.’

‘The American administration were backing away from us,’ disclosed Levy. ‘There were private assurances that the aid would continue, as well as the arms supply, but we had our doubts. This way everybody wins. Anderson is the man who came closer than anyone else to achieving peace, Russia is exposed as the villain and we go on getting all the American support we ask for.’

‘Weren’t you frightened she’d move against one of the Israeli delegates, rather than the American Secretary of State?’

‘That was always the biggest risk,’ admitted Levy. ‘She wouldn’t have succeeded, of course. We were always ready.’

‘Your people shot her?’

‘Of course,’ said Levy. ‘But there’s more than one wound, apparently. Seems like the Russian had orders to kill her, as well. The same bullets as we used: they tried to think of everything.’

So they had expected someone to die. Charlie said: ‘What do you imagine the American reaction would be if they ever learned you’d allowed their Secretary of State — and a protective CIA man — literally to be led like a lamb to the slaughter?’

‘Proof, Charlie: where’s the proof? This conversation never took place. You know that.’

‘Bastard!’

‘You already said that,’ reminded the Israeli. ‘Let’s just say that this time I won.’

Like fuck, thought Charlie.

The preliminary enquiry had been in one of the small committee chambers of the Praesidium building of the Kremlin and afterwards Berenkov and Kalenin drove back to Dzerzhinsky Square in the same car, the KGB chairman’s Zil. They travelled with the curtains drawn and the separating window raised between themselves and the driver.

‘They were right,’ said Kalenin, ‘it’s an unmitigated disaster.’

‘It was a wise precaution for Comrade Lvov to be so openly acknowledged as the architect of the entire operation,’ said Berenkov. ‘And personally regrettable for him to be recognized as the strongest opponent of it being cancelled.’

‘We’ll have to deny Zenin, of course.’

‘He carried nothing connecting him to Russia,’ said Berenkov.

‘What if he confesses?’

Berenkov shook his head. ‘His entire training is against that.’

‘I’d feel happier if he were eliminated.’

‘It would be difficult, in jail. And a lot of people would regard it as confirmation of his being a Soviet agent if he were killed,’ suggested Berenkov.

Kalenin nodded, accepting the argument, looking expectantly towards the yellow-stucco front of the approaching KGB headquarters. He said: ‘There’s still the British.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Berenkov.

‘There’s no way of assessing how much they know?’

‘Absolutely none.’

‘The greatest uncertainty then?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘What about Charlie Muffin?’

‘It was definitely him,’ disclosed Berenkov. ‘Remember we stepped up the intercepts to the British embassy here?’

‘Of course.’

‘We managed a computer break on one of the codes we had not previously been able to read,’ said Berenkov. ‘Charlie Muffin sent queries concerning Novikov to a man here called Gale: we had not positively identified Gale as the rezident at the embassy, so it was a double bonus.’

‘You are right,’ said Kalenin. ‘Charlie Muffin has to be eliminated: he’s a recurring nuisance.’

‘I’m handling it personally.’

‘Have you devised a way yet?’

‘Not yet,’ conceded Berenkov. ‘I’m considering one possibility.’

‘No more mistakes,’ warned Kalenin. ‘It would not be wise if either of us were associated with another mistake.’ It was fortunate, Kalenin thought, that he possessed all those incriminating biographies of so many men in positions of power and importance.

‘I won’t make any move until I’m sure,’ said Berenkov.

‘You liked Charlie Muffin, didn’t you?’ said Kalenin, aware of the background of his friend, like he was aware of all the other backgrounds.

‘He was a very clever operator,’ said Berenkov.

‘Regrettable in some ways that he has to be removed.’

‘Unavoidable,’ said Berenkov.

The polygraph test was the final part of Charlie’s positive vetting and he entered the technician’s room satisfied that so far he had done pretty well. He would know soon enough, he supposed: the appointment with the Director was scheduled for that afternoon. He was wearing the bank interview shirt that he’d had laundered at the Beau-Rivage.