‘Did you get anything out of him before he died?’
‘We did. But that’s a secret, Paul.’
‘Have you told the Americans about him?’
‘They’ll learn in due course. No need to talk to them.’
Samson asked himself why he said that. ‘So, what do you want?’
Tomas smiled regretfully, as though he had left his wallet at home and needed Samson to pick up the tab. He was asking a favour, yet not a very large one. ‘We want to know everything, but before you start telling me, there is someone I want you to meet.’ He brought his hands together in a gentle clap. A slim man who’d been at the far end of the bar with a newspaper swivelled on the bar stool and slid off. He looked like an architect or a designer, with his cropped blond hair, navy blue spectacle frames, white shirt and knitted black tie. He sat down on the chair at the end of the booth table. He seemed familiar to Samson.
‘This is our director, Mr Sollen,’ said Tomas. The man offered his hand, palm facing down. ‘Aaro Sollen,’ he said and tipped his head towards Tomas.
‘We know that Bobby and Mr Hisami were collaborating,’ began Tomas. ‘We became curious when Mr Hisami’s plane began appearing at the airport and we concluded they were involved in a project. But we wondered who, what and why they were investigating, and why they needed the help of the young Syrian genius, who was also often in Tallinn.’ He looked at Samson hard before saying, ‘The boy who so impressed us all two years ago. What was he doing in Tallinn again? We realised that his role was probably technical, so we wondered exactly who they were damn well hacking.’
‘I don’t know who they were targeting, but I think this all started in Berlin,’ said Samson, and went on to explain the Ghost from the East theory – Harland spotting an individual from the old Soviet bloc.
‘A Russian?’ asked Tomas.
‘No, East German, and I heard something about a man called Anatoly Stepurin.’ He let Tomas winkle out the connection about a Russian special forces veteran who may or may not have been the paymaster for a man named Oret, who’d turned to the Balkan, Ukrainian and Dutch underworlds for an impromptu team of hit men. Tomas didn’t know about Oret, or his death, but KaPo knew of Stepurin. ‘That sounds right,’ he said. ‘Who’s he working for – American or Russian interests, do you think?’
‘Maybe it’s both.’
Tomas caught on quickly. ‘You mean Americans that are Russian assets, and these assets may also include Britons.’ He stopped. ‘So we’re talking about long-term, high-level penetration by the old enemy.’
‘The old enemy,’ repeated Samson.
‘But now this is all about power and influence, not ideology.’
‘That’s always true these days, isn’t it?’
‘And your own people at SIS?’
‘They’re not my people, Tomas, but I will say their reaction is pretty fucking weird. They want to explain all this as blowback from Narva – gangsters settling scores for the deaths of Chumak and Bukov – and so keep it well away from the Russian state. But that doesn’t stop them wetting their pants about what was going on in some run-down buildings in east London.’
‘East London – that’s where this whole operation was based?’
‘Yes.’
‘And financed by Hisami. He was paying you as well?’
Samson nodded.
‘Something puzzles us,’ said Tomas. ‘Why was your and my friend Robert Harland killed when we believe he had ceased working with Mr Hisami because he had just weeks to live?’
‘The people who ordered the hit didn’t know Harland was ill, nor that they’d stopped collaborating.’
‘We think they were attempting to eliminate his knowledge – same with Hisami. That makes us ask why they tried to kill you.’ He looked up as the waitress appeared with their dinner.
Sollen smiled and said, ‘Why did they try to kill you? You knew nothing. We understand that because the first thing you did when you arrived in Estonia was to go out to Karu Saar in search of whatever you could find. You had a relatively minor role. Why you?’ He waited for Samson to respond, but got nothing. ‘But you know what you’re looking for, because the moment you arrive in Estonia, you choose to go out to the cabin and conduct a search. What did you find?’
‘A man with a sniper rifle – I had to get out of there fast.’
‘You found something,’ said Tomas. ‘I can feel it.’ He waved his fork at him. ‘You’re a very determined person.’
‘Don’t pretend you haven’t searched the place,’ Samson said. ‘You know there’s nothing there, Tomas.’
‘Ulrike didn’t come back to Tallinn after Bobby was murdered. She wanted to grieve alone without people fussing over her. We didn’t search the place.’
Samson didn’t believe him. Ulrike had returned to Tallinn. If they had been spying on Harland’s meeting with Denis Hisami, they wouldn’t be averse to poking around his hideout. But he nodded understandingly.
‘How did you find the cabin?’ asked Sollen.
‘Ulrike gave me instructions.’
‘By phone?’
‘She got a message to me.’
‘How?’
‘She sent a note to my hotel with a key.’
‘Why didn’t you go to see her?’
‘She didn’t want me to. Maybe she’s being watched.’
‘Yes, the people who killed her husband are here, and they are no doubt watching. Presumably, there was an intermediary who left the note at your hotel. Someone she could trust.’
‘I don’t know. I was asleep.’
‘Such a lot of trouble to take to get a painting and a sketchbook: she could’ve sent someone from the gallery – they’ll do anything to help her right now. But she wanted you to go because she knew that with her help you would find all the data that Bobby accumulated. Was she waiting for you to come to Estonia for the funeral so that you could retrieve those secrets from their hiding place? Perhaps that’s why she stayed at the cabin for as long as she did.’
Samson began shaking his head before Sollen finished. ‘Why don’t you ask her?’ he said. ‘And while you’re
