was going to be a hard sell.
Ferrera let Pablo in, said she was leaving for the Costa del Sol, pulled the door shut. Pablo put his briefcase down, sat. He was angry. Falcon decided to let him start.
'We've just heard from Saudi intelligence,' said Pablo. 'They've been in touch with the British, too, confirming that no members of the Saudi royal family were on board that vessel and there will be no press release for at least twenty-four hours on the matter. How much did you know?'
'Pretty well nothing, except that there was a Saudi connection. Yacoub didn't even tell me his real name.'
'That was a very dangerous game you were playing there, Javier,' said Pablo. 'He was an assistant to the Saudi Minister of Defence.'
'Think how you and the British would have behaved if you'd known that last week,' said Falcon. 'And if the Americans had been informed?'
'I'm not sure that blowing a ship up on the high seas is what I would call a contained intelligence operation,' said Pablo.
'Did Saudi intelligence come directly to you, or higher?'
'What do you think?' said Pablo. 'I've been made to look an arsehole on my own territory. As soon as Yacoub got off the plane in Malaga I had a man on his tail. After you met him in Osuna I had two agents, front and back of the hotel. And still a GICM logistics cell can put a power boat, packed with high explosives, at the disposal of an amateur, to complete a fucking impossible mission. We were nowhere…'
'How could I have helped you?' said Falcon. 'I didn't know about the power boat or the Princess Bouchra.'
Pablo grunted, looked out the window into the hot car park.
'I've got a problem,' said Falcon, 'and I'm going to need your help.'
'I don't know why. It seems that amateurs have just as good a chance as the professionals,' said Pablo. 'Is this about Dario?'
'Partly,' said Falcon. 'But in order to get to Dario I have to kill someone first.'
Silence. Pablo's brain ticked over.
'The problem is,' said Falcon, continuing, 'this person is someone that both you and the Moroccans would very much like to interrogate, but Yacoub's last request was that, while he wants this person killed, he does not want him tortured to death.'
'This isn't what you talked about in Osuna,' said Pablo. 'It couldn't have been. He'd have had to tell you he was going to die. So, somehow you've heard from Yacoub, but not by email. Did he write you a letter?'
'You can read it in a minute.'
'In the meantime, you want me to agree to facilitating a mission in a foreign country in which you assassinate an anonymous but valuable intelligence source,' said Pablo. 'Fuck off, Javier. That's all I can say.'
'I thought that might be your attitude.'
'You're in no position,' said Pablo. 'Let me read the letter.'
Falcon handed over the letter, sat back while Pablo read it.
'I want a copy of this and I'm going to have to make a call,' said Pablo. 'Would you mind waiting in the outer office?'
Falcon left the room. Ten minutes later Pablo called him back in.
'It seems that assurances were given to the Saudis from higher up,' said Pablo. 'Ministers of Defence and those close to them are very powerful people, especially when they buy military equipment. I have been instructed to make the necessary arrangements for you. But are you, the Inspector Jefe del Grupo de Homicidios, really going to do this?'
'Not that it makes any difference, but I've been suspended from duty, pending an inquiry into the events of last night.'
'I won't ask.'
'I have to admit it's not my preferred method of meting out justice, but not only is it my friend's last request, it's also the only way to rescue Dario. With Barakat alive on the outside we wouldn't get near the boy,' said Falcon. 'And I know you used to run agents in Morocco before you were given the Madrid job and you can help me.'
'I can arrange a firearm for you, give you some men on the ground, and I can clear it with the Moroccans after the event,' said Pablo. 'Or I can get a professional to do it.'
'As you can tell from the letter, there's something personal about this. I have no idea what it is, but I don't think Yacoub would ask me to do it unless he had good reason.'
'And what about the boy?'
'First of all, you have to contact Comisario Elvira and tell him that you believe Dario is in Morocco and he will relieve Inspector Jefe Tirado from the search for him here,' said Falcon. 'As soon as I've dealt with Barakat your men have to seal off the information that he's dead until I've rescued Dario. I'm not sure how I'm going to get into the house in Fes unless Yousra, Yacoub's wife, or Abdullah maybe, could help me get in there.'
'How are you going to get to Fes?'
'Drive to Algeciras. Ferry to Ceuta. I could be in Fes by this evening.'
'We'll book you a room in the Hotel du Commerce. It's quiet, out of the way, and you won't draw attention to yourself as you would if you were in the Palais Jamai or the Dar Batha. It's still in the old town, but in Fes El Djedid, rather than Fes El Bali, where Barakat has his shop and the Diouris have their house,' said Pablo. 'What about Yousra?'
'I'll call her. She'll meet me in Fes.'
'Leave your car in Meknes, meet her there. The Hotel Bab Mansour has a garage. We'll organize a room for you. Take a taxi from there,' said Pablo. 'Don't turn up in a Spanish-registered vehicle; Barakat will have his informers in Fes.'
'Consuelo will be coming with me.'
'Really?'
'There's no question of her staying here.'
'Why tell her?'
'I already have.'
'Call me from Ceuta,' said Pablo. 'Go to the Hotel Puerta de Africa and ask for Alfonso. Tell him you're a great admirer of Pablo Neruda and he'll look after your border crossing.' Falcon went down to the forensics lab, picked up some DNA swabs and continued to the observation room to see Ramirez's first interview with Nikita Sokolov. He was waiting for the right moment to interrupt, but was also fascinated to see how Ramirez would play the Russian. They were still working their way through the preliminaries. The translator sat well back from the table between the two men. Sokolov leaned forward, a large white bandage around his head. His huge bulk made him look like a figure from a cartoon. His face bent down was oddly sad, as if remorse could potentially take up residence. Occasionally, when he'd become a little stiff, he'd hook his arms over the back of the seat and sit up straight, then his face would lose that look of sadness and become devoid of any recognizable human emotion.
'I'm just going to summarize that for you,' said Ramirez, concluding a fairly long opening statement. 'There are five murders that we can charge you with today. There are no questions about any of them. We have witnesses and we have your weapon with your fingerprints on it. And in the case of the first two murders we also have your blood at the scene. These killings are: Miguel Estevez and Julia Valdes in the apartment of Roque Barba in Las Tres Mil Viviendas on Monday, 18th September. And Leonid Revnik…'
Ramirez paused as Sokolov spat a contemptuous globule of sputum at the floor.
'Leonid Revnik,' continued Ramirez, 'Isabel Sanchez and Viktor Belenki in the Hotel La Berenjena on Tuesday, 19th September. You will be charged with all these murders later this morning. Do you understand?'
The translator did her work. Sokolov turned his mouth down and nodded as if this was a reasonable summary of a couple of days' work. He did not look at the Cuban woman as she spoke. His eyes were fixed on Ramirez's forehead, as if this was where he was planning his first assault on his way out of the room. Ramirez was extraordinarily calm. His interview style normally tended towards the aggressive, but he'd decided on a different approach with Sokolov, although the Russian did look impervious to aggression.
'Given that these five murders will put you behind bars for the rest of your life, I was wondering if there were any other killings you'd like us to take into consideration at the same time?'
Sokolov's response was very surprising.
'I would like to help you, Inspector,' he said, 'but you must understand that this is my job. I was an 'enforcer'
