because she is in charge of our investigation of the Israeli trade attache in the pictures. As I told you in Washington, Ty, we have reason to suspect he is not a trade attache at all. ‘He pointed to the incriminating photographs on his desk. ‘That’s how these came to be taken. She has also been liaising with your chap Brookhaven about this Syrian business and the Gleneagles conference.’
Oakes said, ‘My concern is not about who knows what here in MI5 or in MI6. It’s to do with the Israelis.’ When Wetherby looked at him questioningly, Oakes explained, ‘What I’m saying Charles is that yes, your people saw Andy meeting with a Mossad officer – Kollek.’
Wetherby didn’t say anything. Liz noticed Bokus had reddened and was looking uncomfortable, like an oversized schoolboy who’d been caught with his hand in the biscuit tin.
Oakes said, ‘What the photographs don’t show is that he’s
Silence fell over the room. Wetherby looked stunned. ‘You’re running a Mossad officer in London?’ he asked at last. His surprise was undisguised.
‘That’s right. And until these came to light’ – Oakes pointed to the photographs – ‘this was a very closely held operation. Only a very few in the Agency knew of it. As you’ll well understand, this type of operation is our most sensitive.’
‘Quite,’ said Wetherby crisply. ‘Thank you for being frank with us. I’ll need to inform DG of course and Geoffrey Fane, who is aware of the photographs and has I think been frank with you about other things.’ He glanced momentarily at Bokus, then looked back at Oakes with a steady gaze. ‘But there’s no need for anyone else outside this room to be told. Though there are some things we’d like to know about this agent you’re running under our noses,’ he said with the slightest of smiles.
‘Such as?’ said Bokus, speaking for the first time.
‘Why is Kollek undeclared by the Israelis? There has to be a reason or they’d never do it – Mossad knows what our reaction would be if we discovered they had an undercover officer operating here. What is Kollek doing that’s so important for them to take the risk?’
Oakes looked over at Bokus and nodded. The big man was sweating slightly, and he hunched his shoulders and leaned forward as he said, ‘Kollek’s role here is to look after Mossad sources living in the UK, or passing through. He’s their local point of contact.’
‘How long has he been working for you?’ Liz asked.
Bokus shrugged. ‘Not long. Maybe nine months, a year.’
Wetherby was rolling a pencil in his fingers, considering this. ‘May I ask what his motivation is for working for you?’
‘He made the approach.’ Bokus seemed unabashed. He’s regaining his confidence, thought Liz, now that he knows he’s in the clear.
‘What reason did he give?’ asked Wetherby. Liz was glad to see he was taking nothing on faith. He added with a hint of acidity, ‘Or was it money?’
‘Good God no,’ Oakes interjected, with what Liz felt was contrived horror. ‘I’m not exactly sure of his motives. Andy?’ He turned to his head of station.
Bokus put a large hand under his chin, pensive. ‘I think he feels things are moving too slowly in the Middle East for there ever to be peace. He sees things getting worse. He thinks it will take America to make his leaders move, and unless we have the full picture that’s not going to happen.’
Wetherby asked, ‘And how is he helping to paint this “full picture”?’
When neither American answered, Wetherby stared down at his pencil dourly. He seemed to be avoiding looking directly at Oakes, as if not to challenge him unnecessarily. But when he spoke his voice was firm: ‘I said you can count on our discretion, Ty. But in return we need to hear what Kollek is telling you. He’s operating in our territory undeclared – both by the Israelis
Liz understood what Wetherby was getting at: a
Bokus hunched down further in his chair, but Oakes looked entirely unfazed. He might have been at a golf club committee meeting, discussing an application for membership. ‘Of course,’ he said rapidly – too rapidly, thought Liz, who knew they would get only selected excerpts of Kollek’s information. Still, excerpts were better than nothing.
Oakes turned again to Bokus. ‘Why don’t you start the ball rolling, Andy?’
Bokus reached for his briefcase and brought out a file. He extracted a single page and handed it across the desk to Wetherby. ‘These are the people he’s been running in London.’
Wetherby scanned it intently, then handed it across his desk to Liz.
There were six names. Liz had never come across any of them, though two were international businessmen she’d heard of, and a third was a Russian exile who was always in the press. She looked at Wetherby and shrugged.
‘Are they known to you?’ asked Oakes a little anxiously.
‘I’ll have to check,’ she said. ‘Obviously, I’ve heard of some of them.’ She looked at Wetherby, who nodded to confirm this. Then she pointed a finger at the sheet. ‘Markov owns a football team in the north. His personal life is always in the papers – I’m surprised he has time to talk to Mossad.’
Wetherby put his pencil down. ‘What sort of intelligence are these people providing?’
Bokus didn’t answer, letting Oakes reply. ‘Well, it’s early days, Charles. Certainly nothing very dramatic has come down the pike to us yet. Nothing about the UK or of course we’d have made sure you had it… in one way or another.’ Wetherby inclined his head minutely in acknowledgement. ‘But we can brief you in more detail if you like.’ He looked at Bokus. ‘If Miles is the liaison with Miss Carlyle here, why don’t we have him come over and take her through your reports on Kollek?’
Bokus nodded, though Liz could see that he was not at all delighted by the idea of Miles being involved. From the sound of it, there wouldn’t be much for Miles to tell her, but Liz’s thoughts in any case were focused on something else. It was not the names on the list that had caught her attention, but the names that weren’t there. Sami Veshara wasn’t there – perhaps not so surprising as he’d told Charles he only met the Israelis in Tel Aviv – but nor was Hannah Gold. What did that mean? Perhaps I was wrong, she thought. Maybe Kollek had no ulterior motive for his careful courting of Sophie Margolis’s mother-in-law. Perhaps it was just friendship, as Hannah had said. Even intelligence officers need friends, she told herself. Though from what she knew of Kollek, sentiment played little part in his character.
Liz tuned in to the conversation again to hear Wetherby saying to Ty, ‘That will be fine.’
‘How often do you meet Kollek?’ she asked Bokus, her mind still on Hannah.
The big American looked annoyed by the question. When Oakes didn’t come to his rescue, he replied tersely, ‘Once a month. Sometimes less often.’
A sudden intuition made her follow this up – she could not have said why. ‘Before your meeting at the Oval, when was the last time you’d seen him?’
Now Bokus’s irritation was obvious. He hesitated, then said crossly, ‘Not since June. He was away for a while.’
There was a brief silence, which Wetherby ended. ‘Anything else we need to discuss, Ty?’
‘There is one thing. As Andy can testify, Kollek is kind of a nervous guy, very careful, almost to the point of paranoia. If he had an inkling of this conversation we’ve been having, then I think he’d stop talking to us right away. Isn’t that right, Andy?’
Bokus’s big head nodded vigorously. ‘Tighter than a clam.’
‘I told you, knowledge of this meeting is going to be very restricted,’ Wetherby said, adding pointedly, ‘There’s no possibility of a leak from our end.’
‘Sure. But it would also be helpful if you could call off your surveillance of Kollek. It’d be a disaster if he spotted it, and this guy’s a real pro. If he thought he was being watched he’d assume we’d told you about him. And anyway, I can’t really see that surveillance would serve any useful purpose now, not when you know we’re running him.’
Charles digested this for a moment. ‘All right. I’ll put that in hand.’
After the Americans had gone, Liz stayed behind. Wetherby stood up and took off his suit jacket, hanging it around the back of his chair. He walked over to the window and looked down at the Thames. ‘So what do you make
