Tim Stevens - Ratcatcher

Rossiter said: ‘No preamble. You, I assume, have worked out who we are. A Service cell, unofficial and operating covertly, without Embassy support. We of course know who you are. John Purkiss, Service until four years ago. We know why you left — rather, what had happened that might have prompted you to leave. You’ve left no trail since then, none that we can discern.’

There were two possibilities, Purkiss had decided. One was that they were who they said they were, and were unconnected to Fallon and looking for him themselves. The other was that they were working with Fallon, that the rescue from the nightclub had been part of a ruse. Either way, there was little point withholding his reasons for being in the city.

He glanced at Klavan, who was leaning forward, elbows resting on her knees, watching him levelly; at Teague, who sat back with his arms spread across the back of his chair and his ankle propped on his knee, expansive as Rossiter was shut in and controlled.

‘I’m here on personal business,’ he said. ‘Donal Fallon was photographed in Tallinn yesterday morning. He was released early from gaol, amnestied, and he’s gone to ground.’

In Klavan’s case it was the slightest hint of an exhalation, in Teague’s a tilting back of the head. Rossiter blinked, once. Each of them, professionals though they were, betrayed their surprise. Now that was interesting, he thought.

Rossiter said: ‘Personal business.’

‘Yes. You know why I want Fallon.’

‘You’re not Service.’

‘No. As you mentioned, I’ve left.’ He took out his phone and brought up the photo of Fallon, watching their faces as they handed it round.

‘Who took this picture?’ It was Teague, sounding amicably interested.

‘A contact of mine. I’ve kept some links going since I left.’

‘Seppo,’ said Klavan. ‘And he wasn’t there when you went to his flat.’

‘Correct. Though I did find him later. In the deep freeze, with his neck broken.’ Purkiss took the phone back and pocketed it. ‘Now. Your turn’.

Rossiter’s face worked. In a moment he said: ‘We’re here because of the summit. The Service’s Embassy presence has been stepped up, of course, but there was felt to be a need for additional covert work, given the significance of the event.’ He looked as if he wanted to stand and pace but was compressing himself into his seat. ‘And perhaps your reasons for being here and ours aren’t unconnected.’

‘No.’

Another pause, then: ‘So. In less than thirty-one hours’ time, the Russian President is going to meet his Estonian counterpart here in the city in an historic gesture of reconciliation. We have to assume Fallon plans to scupper that.’

Coffee had been passed round. Rossiter stood at the flip chart like an incongruously fierce facilitator at a corporate away day.

‘The Russian president arrives ten p.m. tomorrow at a private airfield, the whereabouts of which are unknown. There’s a formal banquet with his Estonian opposite number, then an overnight stay at the official residence in Kadriorg. A working breakfast, then at seven a.m. both parties and their entourages set off to the Soviet War Memorial on the coast road. The handshake and the speeches are to take place there at eight.’

He moved over to a laminated map on the wall. ‘The route is demarcated in red. Needless to say, we’ve gone over it countless times, looking for vantage points that might conceal a sniper. As have the local security forces. There’s very little to find. A sniper would have to be armed with something more powerful than an ordinary rifle, in any case, because the cars are armour plated.’

‘What about at the War Memorial itself?’ said Purkiss.

‘Again, not many places for a man with a gun to hide, and those there are will be heavily guarded. The crowds — and they’ll be huge — will be kept well back, with sniffer dogs deployed in case anyone’s planning to try the suicide bomb thing.’ He paused for a beat. ‘We’re assuming Fallon plans to scupper the meeting. He might try to do that by other means — a terrorist outrage elsewhere in the city, for instance — but he’ll know how much is riding on this summit, that it will go ahead anyway in defiance of any attempts to stop it, so we don’t think that’s a likely scenario.’

‘The airfield where the Russian president’s arriving?’

‘As I said — ’ an edge crept into Rossiter’s voice — ‘it’s a secret. But even if Fallon or anyone else has somehow found out where it is, the security there is likely to be impenetrable. The same goes for the banquet and the overnight accommodation.’

Elle took over. It was clear to Purkiss this discussion was one they’d had before. ‘We’re not going to work out how the attempt’s going to be made, not with the information we’ve got at present. We’d be better served focusing on the lead we do now have, Fallon, and finding him before the event.’

Rossiter had come closer and stood looking down at Purkiss, hands folded before him as if he were anchoring them down. ‘We work together on this. I’m not asking you to accept my command, but anything either you or we learn is shared. Are we agreed?’

Purkiss rocked his head from side to side. ‘Possibly. Depends if I think it’s worth sharing.’

Rossiter watched him, lips thinned whitely. ‘If you’re trying to get a rise out of me, Mr Purkiss, it’s not going to work. I know you think you have the upper hand because you’ve given us the Fallon connection. Yes, it’s an essential piece of intelligence. But we have the resources, the local connections, that you need. So be nice.’

It lasted barely a second, the quiver of tension between them. Then Purkiss said, ‘Tell me how you got on to Seppo, how you found his flat.’

‘You need to speak to this woman, find out what she’s not telling us.’

The Jacobin’s voice was steady, grip on the handset loose.

‘I have spoken to her already. She’s hiding nothing.’

‘This man she was sleeping with, this Fallon. Purkiss is desperate to find him and won’t say why. He’s got to be important in some way. We have to find out what the woman told him.’

‘She told him nothing. She’s rock solid, loyal beyond question.’ Kuznetsov sounded offended.

‘Kuznetsov, I don’t think you really appreciate the seriousness of this. This man worked his way into the affections of clearly the weakest link in your outfit, then disappeared. Until we find him, we have to assume he has knowledge that could compromise us.’

‘You speak to me like this, you impugn the character of one of my people. Yet you yourself keep this man Purkiss alive. You allow him access to your circle.’

‘For your information, he’s the best chance we have at the moment of finding this Fallon. I’m working on him, trying to persuade him to tell me why Fallon’s of importance to him.’ There was a tap at the door and the Jacobin opened it and held up a hand — one minute — and closed it again. ‘We’re going to have to bring the woman in. You need to make her aware of this, prepare her for interrogation.’

‘No torture.’

‘Of course.’

They spoke for another minute before ringing off. The Jacobin stood gazing through the window at the night, then went to find the others.

Purkiss had argued that there wasn’t time to rest, but he’d been trying to persuade himself as much as them. In the end he lost the battle. Teague gave him the once over, applying antiseptic to the laceration from the garrotte. They had worked out a plan for the following morning, and it was agreed that Purkiss would crash out at the flat which Klavan and Teague shared. Rossiter was apparently staying behind at the base. Apart from individual offices off the central open-plan area, all of which were soundproofed, Purkiss noticed, there was a tiny bedroom and bathroom as well as a kitchenette.