Kings of Many Castles

There was an echoing silence.

The permanently red-faced political officer said, “There was an overnight Note from Sir Michael Parnell that the Russians are furious at the leak about a second gunman. That makes it an official diplomatic enquiry.”

“I wanted it kept back as much as they did,” said Charlie.

“So it didn’t come from you?” persisted Hamilton.

“Of course it didn’t!” said Charlie, careless of the indignation.

“What about from someone you’re dealing with in Moscow, one of your sources?” asked Dean.

It was more of a strident klaxon than a warning bell that sounded in Charlie’s mind. If there’d been a diplomatic enquiry it was official. And could easily become annexed to the presidential commission into the missing intelligence dossiers. “It would not have come from any of my sources.”

“How good is liaison between you, the Americans and the Russians?” persisted Hamilton.

Would Donald Morrison have told MI6 across the river of being lied to, by the CIA’s Burt Jordan? Charlie said, “Good enough, I think. Everything’s fully computerized in the American incident room.”

“Which means that anything one or the other-or both-doesn’t want put on the computer isn’t logged in the first place,” dismissed Hamilton. “Have you been totally open, with whatever you’ve obtained independently?”

“Those were my instructions, from here,” reminded Charlie.

“Which isn’t the answer to my question,” said Hamilton.

“Yes, I’ve shared everything.” It was more or less true: the qualification came down to timing.

“If the leak didn’t come from you-or any of your contactsand it didn’t come from the Russians, then the Americans must be the source,” said Jeremy Simpson. “What’s their benefit in doing that?”

“There isn’t one, as far as I can see,” said Charlie. When the hell was there going to be a question to which he did have an answer! Addressing Patrick Pacey, he said, “I’m surprised-perhaps even more curious-that so quickly there’s been diplomatic traffic from Moscow about a criminal investigation, certainly about something that happened less than twenty-four hours ago. Aren’t you?”

“Yes,” agreed the political officer, reflectively. “What’s your point?”

“Something along the lines of protesting too much.”

“More convolution,” sighed Hamilton.

“I think it’s a valid observation,” contradicted the director-general.“But the question remains, why? What’s the Russian benefit?”

“There’s going to be an investigation by a presidential commission into the missing KGB files,” reminded Charlie, reminding himself in turn of the possible personal implications. “This could deflect some of the pressure on their successors, the FSB. A lot of whose senior officers-Dimitri Spassky most definitely- are former KGB.”

“There’s a logic there,” agreed Dean.

“A rare commodity!” derided Hamilton.

“We need a lot more to move this discussion on,” said the director-general.

“I could make some calls,” offered Charlie. Donald Morrison would obviously be first-maybe even Brooking-but dare he risk telephoning Natalia?

“I think we’d benefit from a group discussion, too,” said Hamilton, balefully.

Spence was waiting when Charlie emerged into the outer office. “Woolwich Arsenal say it’ll take three days for the ballistic confirmation you want. They’re miffed at being caught out on the acoustical assessment. And three days is the earliest for any psychological profile. The blood tests will be ready by tomorrow.”

“What I can’t take back with me will have to be sent in the diplomatic bag,” said Charlie.

The formidable woman shook a permed head. “The psychologist didn’t want to do it at all; called it working from a distance. He wants to see you to answer whatever questions he might have.”

He wouldn’t be back to take Sasha to the circus, Charlie realized.

“That was appalling!” pounced Jocelyn Hamilton, at once. “Muffin’s clearly out of his depth, unable to handle this.”

“He proved there was a second gunman,” Simpson pointed out.

“It would have come out through ballistics,” insisted the deputy director.

“But he suspected it first,” said Simpson, equally insistent. “And he was the first to learn of Bendall’s involvement.”

“If we keep him on the investigation-which I personally don’t think we should-Mufin needs to be supervised,” argued Hamilton. “Somebody else definitely should be put in charge.”

“That would look as if we believed he was the source of the second gunman disclosure,” said Pacey.

“Are you sure he wasn’t?” demanded Hamilton.

Sir Rupert Dean said, “I prefer Muffin’s theory of it being an FSB leak. They’re the only beneficiaries, although not by much.”

“So do I,” said Simpson.

“I propose that Muffin is taken off the case entirely,” said Hamilton. “And that we send in better qualified investigators from here.”

“What do you imagine someone from here could have achieved better than Charlie Muffin in just five days!” demanded Simpson. “We’re not in fantasyland-your yellow brick road-we’re in murderous reality, maybe even more murderous than we yet know.”

“That’s theatrical!” protested Hamilton.

“No!” refused Simpson. “It’s what I called it, murderous reality. Charlie lives there, knows the place. Speaks the language. And as he’s proved, has got useful contacts. Sending someone from here at this stage, cold, would be stupid.”

“Quite apart from the reason I’ve already given, I see no purpose whatsoever in side-tracking Charlie Muffin, supervising him,” agreed Pacey. “There’s nothing to show Muffin isn’t doing everything he should be doing. There’s no reason to replace him.”

“How many times did he say, in answer to anything he was asked, ‘I don’t know’?” demanded Hamilton.

“Probably not as many times as the Russians or the Americans with whom he’s working,” said Simpson.

“Aren’t we losing sight of the fact that with the uncertainty that surrounds this department, we can’t afford to take a chance with Charlie Muffin!” said Hamilton.

“It’s a matter of opinion whether or not we’re taking a chance,” said the director-general, belatedly joining the exchange.

“I think I’ve expressed my opinion,” said Hamilton.

“You’ve certainly done that,” said Simpson. “I think we should leave things as they are.”

“I’d like to get more guidance from the ambassador in Moscow,”said Pacey. “This Russian Note has diplomatic implications.”

“We’ll give it twenty-four hours, to see what the guidance is from the ambassador and what Charlie gets from his calls to Moscow,” decided Dean.

“And then?” pressed Hamilton.

“Then we’ll talk again,” said the director-general.

The spare room Spence found for him reminded Charlie of the cell he’d occupied for so many years when he’d been permanently attached to the Millbank building. It was at the rear, the one dirty window overlooking a clutter- filled courtyard and other dirty windows. But it had a reasonably dust-free desk and a chair and a secure telephone and Charlie was totally uninterested in anything else.

He reached Donald Morrison immediately. Richard Brooking was still spinning in circles, reported the MI6 officer. The head of chancellery was blaming Charlie personally for what he complained to be criminal intelligence wrongly crossing the boundaries into diplomacy: the ambassador had sought Foreign Office instruction how to respond to the Russian Note. Morrison had spoken personally to John Kayley, who insisted the leak had not come from any American source. Olga Melnik had reminded him it was she who had demanded the second gunman remain secret. They, too, were therefore blaming the leak on Britain and in particular upon Charlie. Morrison was slowly working his way through the witness re-interviews. So far there was nothing new although other colleagues at NTV described Bendall as a loner, with Isakov his only friend.