there?”
“I’m not inviting a debate because I think the denial is as absurd as you do,” said Charlie, matching the impatience. “You’ve ordered me not to talk to Robertson so I’m passing it on for you to tell him. Guzov is technically Pavel’s superior. He’s got no reason to try to persuade Pavel.”
“It’s part of the same patchwork,” dismissed Smith. “Nikita Kashev has summoned the acting ambassador twice to the Foreign Ministry to make the same denial. The Russian ambassador here has sought two meetings at our Foreign Office, with the same message. Now Guzov joins the chorus, for Pavel to tell you, hoping that you’ll tell me-London at least, because I hope there’s no way they know you and I are liaising directly-for it to be spread as fully and as thickly as possible.”
“Isn’t that unusual?” asked Charlie.
“I don’t understand the question.”
“Every Western embassy has had listening devices installed by the Russians. And we’ve done our fair share in return,” Charlie pointed out. “The embassy protests, Moscow denies it-as we do when we’re caught-and in a few months it’s all forgotten until the next time. Why the continued, persistent denials this time?”
“Because everything is supposed to have changed since the demise of communism, which we all know it hasn’t,” said Smith, still dismissive.
“I felt I should pass it on,” said Charlie, reminding himself it was not his investigation and that his day had to run on a strict timetable.
“You’ve got all you wanted,” said Smith. “Now I want results-some significant developments-pretty damned quick.”
“I’ve got some things in mind,” said Charlie, disliking the vagueness but not wanting to risk the Director- General countermanding what he was considering.
Charlie phoned ahead and by the time he arrived at Petrovka, a replay machine was already set up in Pavel’s office, cramped by the two rows of chairs arranged in a viewing semicircle. Charlie accepted without protest his relegation to the second row, leaving those closest to the screen to Mikhail Guzov and the assembled but unidentified forensic specialists and technicians. Pavel positioned himself behind them, alongside Charlie but gave no indication of any prior contact. They all watched the two-and-a-half minute tape without comment but immediately after it faded a heavily bearded forensic officer demanded a replay, coming intently forward to watch it for the second time: once he leaned sideways to mutter to the man next to him something that Charlie strained to hear but missed. He didn’t hear the conversation between the man and Guzov when the second viewing ended, either.
Turning to Charlie, Guzov said, “The CCTV copy isn’t of much practical use.”
Charlie had spent both replays intently studying the FSB officer for the slightest facial indication that the cafe encounter had been a setup and detected nothing. Charlie said, “Together with what London identified as part of a Makarov bullet, it proves the victim was alive when he was brought into the embassy grounds by at least three men and that the murder was committed there, positively establishing that the crime was committed on British territory, which further establishes that it is primarily a British investigation.”
“I meant, of practical use in identifying the victim or the men who killed him,” corrected Guzov.
They’d accepted the phony CCTV film as genuine! realized Charlie. “They won’t know that, though, will they?”
“What? Who?” Guzov frowned.
“I intend to hold a press conference at the embassy,” announced Charlie. “I consider the CCTV to be a breakthrough in the investigation, showing the murder in the process of it being committed.”
“You’ll be asked if you can identify the victim and his killers,” said Pavel, nodding to the freeze frames stacked on a side table, together with all the other London material. “There will also be demands for those photographs to be released.”
“Of course I’m going to be asked,” agreed Charlie. “And I am going to describe what we’ve got as vital evidence that cannot be released for fear of affecting the outcome of any trial.”
“In the vain hope that the killers, frightened of being identified, will make the mistake that’ll do just that?” queried Guzov, the sneer very obvious.
“That would be a little too much to expect, but not totally beyond the realms of possibility,” said Charlie. “What we do have is a reasonably good physical description of the dead man, and what’s definitely not beyond the realms of possibility is that it will be recognized by someone who will come forward to identify who he is. And that would very definitely be a breakthrough, wouldn’t it?”
Guzov’s face hardened at the awareness of how easily he was being outmaneuvered. Trying to make it sound more like an already agreed decision rather then the question it really was, the Russian said, “The press conference panel will need particular and careful planning.”
“Very particular indeed,” picked up Charlie. “The film very positively establishes the United Kingdom’s primary legal jurisdiction, which requires that any public discussion has to be conducted on British territory. .” He hesitated, the affect timed to the ticking second. “Which presents a difficulty of your participating in view of the current diplomatic problem between our two governments.”
“Are you trying to tell me that no Russian participation will be allowed?”
“I’m just pointing out that the degree of participation has to be diplomatically agreed.”
“I shall need to discuss the legality of the situation with lawyers at our own ministry,” said Guzov, trying to make it sound like a challenge.
“Of course you must,” agreed Charlie. “As I will with my embassy.” How much of an obstacle were temporary ambassador Peter Maidment and his own Foreign Office going to be to the media proposal, wondered Charlie.
Guzov swept his arm to encompass the CCTV tape and everything else that Charlie had brought to Petrovka. “And there may be further need to discuss everything you have provided, after closer study by our scientists.”
Charlie accepted he could not have expected it to have gone better-although being a pushy, foot-in-the-door optimist he’d hoped that it would-but Mikhail Guzov’s implied threat nagged at him, despite Charlie’s balancing belief that Pavel’s cafe approach had been professionally genuine.
And he was thirty minutes behind schedule getting back to the embassy, with only time to check his telephone messages before his courtesy appointment with the acting ambassador. Again, the one call routed to his voice mail disconnected without identification.
When Charlie was ushered into the ambassador’s suite, Peter Maidment was at the window overlooking the river and didn’t immediately turn. There was a weariness about the man when he finally did so, waving Charlie to the waiting chair. “Your Director-General sent me a message that you wanted to see me?”
And he was taking his biggest risk yet, not clearing his intention first with Aubrey Smith, conceded Charlie. “I want to conduct a press conference for the media camped outside the gates.”
There was no outrage or theatricality at the idea from the lank-haired man. “To tell them what?”
“I need to identify the victim,” said Charlie, encouraged. “There are some physical characteristics I hope might be recognized by a wife or a girlfriend or a work colleague.”
“There’ll be Russians among the media? Journalism is a very common front for the sort of people who installed the most recent listening devices.”
“The conference could be very strictly controlled,” pressed Charlie. “They could be escorted to the conference hall quite separate from the embassy building itself. And escorted directly out again at the end. All the accreditation could be thoroughly vetted. And the local Russian staff is still being allowed in and out.”
“What’s wrong with simply issuing a statement, listing what you want someone to recognize?”
“I’m looking for the maximum response from the maximum publicity,” said Charlie. “Bringing them in-holding the conference in a building close to which the body was found-will be far more effective than a printed statement.”
“Under the circumstances, this isn’t a decision I can make alone. It’ll have to be approved from London.”
Everyone ducking responsibility, as usual, Charlie realized, except himself, who couldn’t. “But you won’t oppose it?”
“Not upon your assurance that it will clear up at least one of the problems we’re facing here.”
