Petersburg?'
She didn't bat an eyelid. 'Yes, of course. Nick, I want to apologize once more for what has happened. It was just that if you'd known exactly what was going on '
'I wouldn't have done the job in the first place?'
'Precisely. I must go now.' She busied herself in standing up and fastening her coat. 'I think I need about fifteen minutes.'
I nodded. I'd get another tea while she got clear of the area, then I'd go and find out exactly where Estonia was and how the fuck to get there.
27
Thursday, December 12 1933 Ten minutes before she was due to arrive, I settled into a corner seat at the Cafe Avec in Stockmann. On my way over I'd stopped at an Internet cafe and checked out the Moonlight Maze story on the Sunday Times Web site. It was genuine.
The 'Avec' seemed to refer to the fact that you could have your coffee with a shot of anything from the bar, from Jack Daniels to local cloudberry liqueurs. The locals were knocking them back like there was no tomorrow.
Placing two coffees and two Danishes on the table, I put a saucer over the top of Liv's cup to keep it hot.
The cafe was just as packed as when I'd been there with Tom. I'd spent a lot of time thinking about him last night, lying in my cheap and, more importantly, anonymous hotel room. The sad fact was that stopping the Maliskia from combining Echelon with their Moonlight Maze operations, and getting the money for doing it, was more important than Tom's life. Then I pictured him leaping to my defence after we'd come off the fence. Killing him was not going to be easy.
I had even considered going to the consulate and calling Lynn on a secure line, but then I realized I was losing sight of the aim, which was money. If Lynn knew, that would be the end of it. All I would get was a pat on the head if I was lucky. This way I got to pocket 3 million, plus I did democracy a good turn. It was bullshit, of course.
The trouble was, it even sounded like bullshit.
After my tea stop with Liv yesterday I'd gone straight down to the harbor to check out the ferries to Estonia. Its capital, Tallinn, seemed to be the destination for an array of roll-on, roll-off ferries, high-speed catamarans, and hydrofoils. The faster craft made the fifty-mile journey in only an hour and a half, but the girl at the ticket office told me there was too much ice floating in the Baltic and too much wind for them to make the crossing in the next few days. The only ones that could handle the conditions were the old-fashioned ferries, and they usually took over four hours, and because of the heavy seas they would now take even longer. Story of my life.
I took a sip of coffee as I sat looking at the long words in a Finnish newspaper and scanning the escalator. I was going to use the Davidson passport to go into Estonia, but had booked the ferry ticket in the name of Davies. Giving the name slightly corrupted always adds nicely to the confusion. If stopped for it, I'd just say it was the mistake of the people who did the ticketing. After all, English was their second language, and my cockney accent could be quite hard to understand when I tore the ass out of it. The method wasn't foolproof, but it might just muddy the waters a bit. I was sure the Firm would still be looking for Davidson now that he was connected with Liv and Tom. I didn't care how much they might have worked out, as long as there wasn't a picture of me to go with it, and thankfully the one in Davidson's passport wasn't much of a likeness. The mustache and rectangular glasses, plus makeup to change the size of my nose and chin slightly, worked quite well. If put on the spot, I'd say that I used contacts to read now and liked my new clean-shaven look.
I'd learned makeup from the BBC. Plastic noses and eyebrow sets are not what it's all about. As I dunked a corner of the Danish into my coffee, I couldn't help a smile as I remembered spending four hours making myself up as a woman for the final session of the two-week course; I'd thought the shade of lip gloss I'd chosen particularly suited me. It had been a laugh spending the day shopping with my teacher 'girlfriend' Peter, who was dressed up in quite a fetching blue number, especially when it came to going into women's rest rooms. I didn't like having to shave and wax my legs and hands, though. They itched for weeks afterward.
An insistent electronic burst of the William Tell Overture came from somewhere behind my left shoulder, followed by a brief moment of silence, then a burst of Finnish from an elderly lady.
Everybody in this country had a cell phone-I'd even seen small kids wandering around holding their parents' hands and talking into a dangling mike-but no one settled for the standard ring. You couldn't go five minutes in Helsinki without hearing The Flight of the Bumble Bee, snatches of Sibelius, or the James Bond theme.
I sat, dunked, and waited. I had the passports tucked uncomfortably under my foot inside my right boot, and I had $1,500 in hundreds, twenties, and tens in my left.
As for Mr. Stone, he was well and truly stuffed away in the bag at the railway station. The P7 and extra barrel were still with me and would only go into the railway bag at the very last minute. There was no way I could take the weapon with me to Estonia. I had no idea how heavy the security was on the ferry journeys Liv's head appeared first as the escalator brought her up toward me.
She was looking around casually, not specifically looking for me. The rest of her body came into view, wearing the black, belted three-quarter-length leather coat over her normal jeans and Timberland-type boots. She had a large black leather bag over her shoulder and a magazine in her right hand.
She spotted me and headed for the table, kissing me on both cheeks. Her hair was back on top form and she smelled of citrus. An English-language copy of Vogue landed on the table between us, and we bluffed away with the how-are-you? smiles as she settled into her seat.
I put her cup in front of her and removed the saucer. She lifted it to her lips. Either it was cold or tasted past its best, because it went straight back down on the table.
'The Maliskia are located near Narva.'
I returned her smile as if enjoying the story. 'Narva?' It could have been on the moon for all I knew.
'You'll need a Regio one-in-two-hundred-thousand map.'
'Of which country?'
She smiled. 'Estonia, northeast.' She put her hand on the Vogue.
'You'll also need what is inside here.'
I nodded.
Her hand was still on the magazine. 'It's from this location that they have been running Moonlight Maze; and now that they have Tom and the Think Pad it's where they will also be attempting to access Echelon. They move location every few weeks to avoid detection, and after what's happened here they will be moving again very soon. You'll need to act quickly.'
I nodded again and her hands came together on the table as she leaned forward. 'Also inside is an address. You'll meet people there who should help you get explosives and whatever else you need. The best way to Narva is by train. Hiring a car is more trouble than it's worth. And Nick' she fixed her eyes on mine 'these people in Narva, do not trust them. They're totally unreliable, the way they conduct their drugs trade is disrupting business for all of us. But they're the closest Valentin can offer you to support on the ground.'
I gave her a smile that let her know I wasn't born yesterday.
'Also remember, do not mention Valentin at all when dealing with them.
There must be no connection between him and any of this. None whatsoever. If they make a connection, the deal will be off, because they will simply kill you.'
Her hands went back together. 'Also in there is a' she hesitated, trying to find the right word, but didn't come up with one that satisfied her. In the end she shrugged 'letter from a friend, the same one that has the contacts in Narva. It will ensure you get what you need from these people, but only use it if you need to, Nick. It was obtained at great personal expense to Valentin and shouldn't be abused.'
I asked the obvious. 'What's in it?'
'Well, it's a bit like an insurance policy.' She smiled rather bleakly. 'A Chechen insurance policy. I told you before, he likes you.'
I didn't need to ask any more about it. I'd see it for myself soon.
For now there were more important matters. I needed the answer to the bayonet question again. 'How many people are there on site?'
