Zillah received a text asking whether Naji was available for an interview with her former bosses at the National Security Agency. They wanted to hire him and give him and his family American citizenship. Halfway through a room-service burger and fries, Naji raised his head and said, ‘Another “A” and I’d do it. NASA, yes; NSA, no.’
‘The NSA can be pretty persuasive, and they’ll put a lot of pressure on you. I’ll tell them you’re going to think about it. But my advice is – stay clear. You, particularly, wouldn’t enjoy it. There’s a five o’clock flight to Berlin that connects with a service to Riga. I figured you’d want to leave.’
‘I’ll put him on the plane myself,’ said Anastasia.
Naji nodded and returned to focus on the burger and his phone.
‘They want a meeting,’ said Zillah, ‘that’s the Agency and the Bureau. Here. Around six.’
On the return from dropping Naji at Dulles, Anastasia found Samson in the lobby, trying to get hold of Macy. ‘People are recognising you,’ he said, noticing the looks coming from around the lobby.
‘Yeah, I had that problem at the airport. I told them I just looked like the bitch in Congress.’
That made him laugh out loud.
Zillah caught them outside the conference room she’d hired and told them the news that Gaspar had been found dead from poisoning at Seneca Ridge. ‘It looks like an accident, but of course they don’t believe that. They’re really pissed because he’s a key witness. And Mila Daus has vanished.’
Now Samson knew exactly why he hadn’t been able to get hold of Macy and the Bird, but his expression gave nothing away as he walked into the room. He smiled to Toombs and Reiner, who had plates and napkins in their hands and were hovering over a room-service trolley of sandwiches and snacks. ‘We were just saying what a fine job you did today, Mrs Hisami,’ said Toombs. ‘Having those German people come was an inspiration. Truly affecting.’ He took a bite of his sandwich. ‘So, where are we going to start?’
‘With me,’ said Reiner, stirring the ice in his Scotch. ‘You’ve heard about Gaspar?’
‘Just now,’ said Samson.
Reiner explained that the M-44 trap had been triggered by a stray bullet. ‘We are one hundred per cent sure he was killed. I mean who the fuck goes hunting in the woods with a weapon like that, especially one that he couldn’t fire properly because of an injured shoulder? Yes, we saw the ad where he talked about the reason for selling the gun.’ He sat down, sipped his whisky and studied Samson. ‘And frankly, I find it incredible that a guy like Gaspar brings just two shells and fires both of them at a cyanide trap he knows is there because he fucking well put it in the ground.’
‘What am I meant to say?’ asked Samson.
‘You went out there to collect Mila Daus’s DNA, so . . .’
‘Yes, four days ago, and you know where I’ve been since.’
‘Right,’ said Reiner. He glanced at Toombs, who shrugged. Zillah gave them wine and they joined Reiner at the table. ‘Okay, so I will be brief. Stepurin is talking. He denies having anything to do with the nerve agent, but we know otherwise. He hasn’t yet been charged because we want him to think he can talk his way out of this, and we are getting good material. He confirms that John Gaspar was the paymaster, but he won’t say anything about Mila Daus. Denies ever having met her.’
‘You know where she is?’ asked Anastasia.
‘We think we do, but I’ll come to that. You were right in thinking that Gaspar and Stepurin connected on the big-game circuit. All the murders were signed off and paid for by Gaspar. Stepurin confirmed this. On the key people in her network, Erik Kukorin, Chester Abelman, Elliot Jeffreys and Jonathan Mobius have all been arrested, and we are talking to all their contacts. The British want Mobius, but they aren’t going to get him. And the big fish here – Mike Proctor, the Deputy National Security Advisor, and Kirsten Donnelly, from the office of the Director of National Intelligence – they’re with us right now. They say they had no idea they were helping the Russians. Actually, we were aware that both were compromised sometime back, so that story isn’t going to work for them. In the UK, the PM’s adviser, Anthony Drax, is under arrest, but Ben Bera – the guy at the Foreign Office – has vanished. We believe he’s in Russia, but the Brits aren’t saying anything.’ He shook his head. ‘There’s literally nothing that Drax and Bera didn’t know, or couldn’t find out. It’s a fucking disaster over there, but really serious for us, too.’
‘You say you knew about Proctor and Donnelly,’ asked Samson. ‘How far back?’
He smiled. ‘Frank’s your man. Frank made all the running at the start, so I’ll let him answer.’
Toombs grunted. He seemed in no better humour than usual. ‘We were aware of leaks of highly classified information a year back and I was certain they came from Donnelly’s office, but I didn’t know how to proceed because she was close to people in the Agency – high-up people – so I consulted a friend of mine and he pointed me in the direction of the political consultant Elliot Jeffreys. My friend knew that Donnelly and this man Jeffreys were close. Jeffreys intrigued me because of his enormous Rolodex and the money he was spending. The income from that consultancy nowhere near matched the money he was splashing around. Then we realised it came from Mila Daus, though we had literally never heard of her before.’
‘Where is she?’ asked Anastasia.
Toombs allowed
