Our Kind of Traitor

‘And these tickets are for where exactly?’ he inquired after a perplexed study that by any normal standards would long ago have given him his answer.

‘Can’t you read it? Men’s Final of the French Open. Roland Garros, Paris.’

‘And you came by them how?’

‘I was settling our bill at the hotel. Gail was packing. Ambrose handed them to me.’

‘Together with this nice note from Tamara?’

‘Correct. Together with the nice note from Tamara. Well done.’

‘Tamara’s note was enclosed in the envelope with the tickets, I take it. Or was it separate?’

‘Tamara’s note was in a separate envelope, which was sealed, and which I have since destroyed,’ Perry said, his voice clotting in anger. ‘The two tickets to the Roland Garros Tennis Stadium were in an envelope that was unsealed. That is the envelope you are holding in your hand now. I discarded the envelope containing Tamara’s letter, and placed her letter inside it with the tickets.’

‘Marvellous. May I read it?’

He did anyway:‘We invite you please to bring Gail for your companion. We shall be happy to reunite with you.’

‘For God’s sake,’ Perry muttered.‘Please be available in Allee Marcel-Bernard of Roland Garros enclosure fifteen (15) minutes before commencement of match. There are many shops in this allee. Please pay particular attention to display of Adidas materials. It will appear big surprise to meet you. It will appear coincidence ordained by God. Please discuss this matter with your British officials. They will understand this situation.‘Please also accept hospitality at special box of Arena company representative. It will be convenient if responsible person of secret authority of Great Britain will be in Paris at this period for very discreet discussion. Please enable this.‘In God we love you,‘Tamara.’

‘Is this all of it?’

‘All.’

‘And you’re distressed. Embittered. Pissed off at having to show your hand.’

‘As a matter of fact, I’m pretty fucking furious,’ Perry agreed.

‘Well, before you explode completely, let me give you a bit of gratuitous background. It may be all you get.’ He was leaning forward across the table, his grey, zealot’s eyes gleaming with excitement. ‘Dima has two vitally important signings coming up at which he will formally pass over his entire, extremely ingenious money-laundering system to younger hands: namely, the Prince and his retinue. The sums of money involved are astronomic. The first signing is in Paris on Monday June 8th, the day after your tennis party. The second and final signing – we may say terminal – takes place in Berne two days later on Wednesday June 10th. Once Dima has signed away his life’s work – ergo, post the Berne signing on June 10th – he will be ripe for the same unfriendly treatment dealt out to his friend Misha: whacking, in other words. I mention this in parenthesis in order to make you aware of the depth of Dima’s planning, the desperate straits he’s in, and the accrued billions – literally – at stake. Until he’s signed, he’s immune. You can’t shoot your milk-cow. Once he’s signed, he’s dead meat.’

‘So why on earth go to Moscow for the funeral?’ Perry objected, in a remote voice.

‘Well, you and I wouldn’t, would we now?’ Hector agreed. ‘But we’re not vory, and vengeance exacts its price. So does survival. For as long as he hasn’t signed, he’s bulletproof. Can we go back to you?’

‘If you must.’

‘We both must. You mentioned a moment ago that you were pretty fucking furious. Well, I think you’ve every right to be pretty fucking furious, and with yourself, because at one level – the level of normal social intercourse – you are behaving, in admittedly difficult circumstances, like a chauvinistic arsehole. No good bristling like that. Look at the hash you’ve made of it so far. Gail’s not aboard, she’s pining to be. I don’t know what century you think you’re living in, but she’s as much entitled as you are to make her own decisions. Were you seriously considering doing her out of a free ticket to the Men’s Final of the French Open? Gail? – your partner in tennis, as in life?’

His hand once more cupped over his mouth, Perry emitted a stifled groan.

‘Quite so. Now for the other level: that of abnormal social discourse. My level, Luke’s level. Dima’s. What you have realized, perfectly correctly, is that you and Gail have wandered by sheer accident into a richly planted minefield. And like any decent person of your stamp, your first instinct is to get Gail the hell out of it, and keep her out of it. You have also worked out, unless I’m mistaken, that you personally, by listening to Dima’s offer, by transmitting it to us, and by being appointed umpire or observer or whatever he wants to call it, are by vory law, by the reckoning of the people Dima is proposing to blow the whistle on, a legitimate case for the extreme sanction. Agreed?’

Agreed.

‘To what extent Gail is potential collateral damage is an open question. You’ve no doubt thought of that too.’

Perry had.

‘So let’s count up the big questions. Big question one: are you, Perry, morally entitled not to acquaint Gail with the peril she’s in? Answer in my view: no. Big question two: are you morally entitled to deny her the choice of coming aboard once she has been so acquainted, given that she has an emotional investment in the children of Dima’s household, not to mention her feelings for yourself? Answer in my view: again no, but we can argue about that later. And three, which is a bit toe-curling but we do have to ask: are you, Perry, is she, Gail, are you as a couple, attracted to the idea of doing something fucking dangerous for your country, for virtually no reward except what is loosely called the honour of it, on the clear understanding that if you ever bubble about it, even to your nearest and dearest, we’ll hound you to the ends of the earth?’ He allowed a pause for Perry to speak, but Perry didn’t, so he went on:

‘You’re on record as believing that our green and pleasant land is in dire need of saving from itself. I happen to share that opinion. I’ve studied the disease, I’ve lived in the swamp. It is my informed conclusion that we are suffering, as an ex-great nation, from top-down corporate rot. And that’s not just the judgement of an ailing old fart. A lot of people in my Service make a profession of not seeing things in black and white. Do not confuse me with them. I’m a late-onset, red-toothed radical with balls. Still with me?’

A reluctant nod.

‘Dima is holding out to you, as I am, an opportunity to do something instead of bleating about it. You in return are straining at the leash while pretending to do no such thing, a posture I consider fundamentally dishonest. So my strong recommendation is: call Gail now, put her out of her misery, and when you get back to Primrose Hill fill her in on every detail, however slight, that you have so far kept from her. Then bring her back here at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. This morning, come to think of it. Ollie will collect you. You then sign an even more draconian and illiterate document than the one you both signed today, and we’ll tell you as much of the remainder of the story as we can without queering your pitch if you do decide between you to take the trip to Paris – and as little as we can get away with if you decide you won’t. If Gail wishes to demur separately, that’s her business, but I’ll give you a hundred to nine she’ll stay aboard to the bitter end.’

Perry finally lifted his head.

‘How?’

‘How what?’

‘Save England how? From what? All right, from itself. What bit of itself?’

Now it was Hector’s turn to reflect. ‘You’ll just have to take our word for it.’

‘Your Service’s word?’

‘For the time being, yes.’

‘On the strength of what? Aren’t you supposed to be the gentlemen who lie for the good of their country?’