The defector

back to the state-at bargain-basement prices, of course. For understandable reasons, Viktor wasn’t interested. It got nasty-but then it always does. The Kremlin started talking about raids and seizures. That’s what the Kremlin does when it wants something. It brings to bear the power of the state.”

“And Viktor thought you could help?”

“He asked me to lunch. He said he had an exclusive for me: a man whose job was to procure young women for the president’s personal entertainment. Very young women, Gabriel. When I told him that I wouldn’t touch the story, he got angry. A month later, he fled the country. Officially, the Russians want him back to face tax and fraud charges.”

“And unofficially?”

“The Kremlin wants Viktor to surrender his majority stake in Ruzoil, the giant Siberian energy company. It’s worth many billions of dollars.”

“What did Viktor want with Grigori?”

“Viktor’s motives for opposing the Kremlin were hopelessly transparent and hardly noble. Grigori gave him something he never had before.”

“Respectability.”

“Correct. What’s more, Grigori knew some of the regime’s darkest secrets. Secrets Viktor could wield as a weapon. Grigori was the answer to Viktor’s prayers and Viktor took advantage of him. That’s what Viktor does. He uses people. And when they’re of no value to him, he throws them to the wolves.”

“Did you say any of this to Grigori?”

“Of course. But it didn’t go over terribly well. Grigori thought he could take care of himself and didn’t like being told by a journalist to watch his step. He was like an older man in love with a pretty girl. He wasn’t thinking straight. He liked being around Viktor, the cars, the parties, the houses, the expensive wine. It was like a drug. Grigori was hooked.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Two weeks ago. He was very excited. Apparently, Irina was thinking seriously about coming to London. But he was also nervous.”

“About Irina?”

“No, his security. He was convinced he was being watched.”

“By whom?”

“He didn’t go into specifics. He gave me the newest pages of his manuscript. Then he gave me a letter for safekeeping. He told me that if anything ever happened to him, a friend would look for him. He was confident this man would eventually make his way to Oxford to see me. Grigori liked this man and respected him very much. Apparently, they made some sort of pact during a long drive through the Russian countryside.” She slipped the letter into Gabriel’s hand and lit another cigarette. “I have to admit, I don’t remember hearing it. I must have been asleep at the time.”

18

OXFORD

YOU’VE NEVER READ IT?” Gabriel asked.

“No, never.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Why?”

“Because you were once the most famous investigative reporter in Russia.”

“And?”

“Investigative reporters are natural snoops.”

“Like spies?”

“Yes, like spies.”

“I don’t read other people’s mail. It’s unseemly.”

They were seated in the Queen’s Lane Coffee House against a latticed window. Gabriel was facing the street; Olga, the busy interior. She was holding the letter in one hand and a mug of tea in the other.

“I think it puts to rest the debate over whether Grigori redefected or was abducted.”

“Rather conclusively.”

Coincidentally, the letter was five sentences in length, though unlike the forged letter announcing Grigori’s redefection, it had been produced on a word processor, not written by hand. It bore no salutation, for a salutation would have been insecure. Gabriel took it back from Olga and read it again:

IF THIS IS IN YOUR POSSESSION, IVAN HAS TAKEN ME. I HAVE NO ONE TO BLAME BUT MYSELF, SO PLEASE DO NOT FEEL OBLIGATED TO KEEP THE PROMISE YOU MADE THAT NIGHT IN RUSSIA. I DO HAVE ONE FAVOR TO ASK; I AM AFRAID MY DESIRE TO REUNITE WITH MY FORMER WIFE MAY HAVE PLACED HER IN DANGER. IF YOUR OFFICERS IN MOSCOW WOULD CHECK IN ON HER FROM TIME TO TIME, I WOULD BE GRATEFUL. FINALLY, IF I MAY OFFER ONE PIECE OF ADVICE FROM THE GRAVE, IT IS THIS: TREAD CAREFULLY.

Attached to the letter with a paper clip was a three-by-five photo. It showed Grigori and his former wife seated before a vodka-laden table in happier times. Irina Bulganova was an attractive woman with short blond hair and a compact body that suggested an athletic youth. Gabriel had never seen her before. Still, he found something remotely familiar in her face.

“Do you believe it?” Olga asked.

“Which part?”

“The part about Ivan. Could he really have pulled off an operation as complex as this?”

“Ivan is KGB to the bone. His arms-trafficking network was the most sophisticated the world had ever seen. It employed dozens of former and current intelligence officers, including Grigori himself. Grigori took Ivan’s money. And then he betrayed him. In Russia, the price of betrayal is still the same.”

“Vyshaya mera,” Olga said softly.

“The highest measure of punishment.”

“Do you think he’s dead?”

“It’s possible.” Gabriel paused, then said, “But I doubt it.”

“But he disappeared a week ago.”

“It might sound like a long time, but it isn’t. Ivan will want information, everything Grigori told the British and the Americans about his network. Then I suspect the boys from Lubyanka will want a crack at him. The Russians are very patient when it comes to hostile interrogations. They refer to it as sucking a source dry.”

“How charming.”

“These are the successors of Dzerzhinsky, Yezhov, and Beria. They’re not a charming lot, especially when it comes to someone who spilled family secrets to the British and the Americans.”

“I take it you’ve done this sort of thing yourself?”

“Interrogations?” Gabriel shook his head. “To be honest, they were never my specialty.”

“How long does it take to do it right?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether the subject is cooperating or not. Even if he is, it can take weeks or months to make sure he’s told the interrogators everything they want to know. Just ask the detainees at Guantanamo Bay. Some of them have been interrogated relentlessly for years.”

“Poor Grigori. Poor foolish Grigori.”

“He was foolish. He should have never lived so openly. He also should have kept his mouth shut. He was just asking for trouble.”

“Is there any possible way to get him back?”

“It’s not out of the question. But for now my concern is you.”

Gabriel looked out the window. The sun had slipped below the tops of the colleges and the High Street was