The Kremlin Device (43 page)

When finally I came to a halt, she said, ‘You need some cognac,' and signalled to the waiter, who brought two small glasses and a bottle.

‘Armenian brandy,' Anna announced. ‘Your famous Prime Minister used to say it was the best.'

‘Tony Blair?'

‘Don't be ridiculous! Winston Churchill. Cheers!'

We clinked glasses, and I drained mine straight down.

‘Aren't you furious with me?' I asked.

‘Why should I be?'

‘For having double-crossed you all this time.'

‘You weren't being very clever about it.'

‘You mean you knew what we were doing?'

‘Not exactly. But we knew you had some secret agenda.'

‘How?'

‘Every time you went to the Embassy you were followed.'

‘Jesus! But not into the churchyard?'

She shook her head. ‘We lost you there.'

‘What about that time we went up to the university and we got chased?'

‘Those were some of our people.'

‘Were they hurt?'

‘One was killed.'

‘I'm sorry.'

I poured myself some more brandy.

‘But when the bomb was lifted – that wasn't you?'

‘No – that was the Mafia all right. But Geordie – the Americans will realise that Apple isn't responding to signals. In fact, they must already know something's wrong. What if you get an order tomorrow, telling you to go down and check the device?'

‘I'll tell my people at home it's impossible. I'll say the churchyard's been compromised, that the head of the shaft is under guard.'

Her eyes were holding mine.

‘Listen,' I said. ‘What were you doing that day you came poking your nose into our lap-top?'

She threw back her head and laughed. ‘
That!
A throwback to my old habits, I suppose: a little private espionage. Of course I was curious to find out more about what you were all doing.'

‘But you never got into the program?'

She shook her head.

‘What'll you do now?' I asked. ‘Now I've told you?'

‘Nothing.' This time it was her hand that took hold of mine. ‘We'll keep this between us. If you've killed the bomb, that's it. There's no point telling my bosses. They'd only go mad and stir everything up again on the international front. By the way – can I have some more of that?'

She pointed at the bottle. I started and apologised, filling her glass again.

‘Besides,' she said, ‘it's not as if our own consciences are all that clear.'

I stared at her. ‘What the hell do you mean by that?'

‘Compact nuclear devices,' she said teasingly. ‘CNDs. They are not the exclusive property of the West.'

‘You mean . . . you don't mean you've done this to us already?'

‘That's rather a crude way of putting it.'

‘Are you saying there are CNDs buried under London?'

‘Not necessarily
buried
.'

‘How many, for God's sake?'

‘I'll have to check, but I think the last count was five. I acted as liaison officer on an operation in 1993, when two went in.'

Suddenly I felt punch-drunk – not intoxicated, but rather as though I'd taken too much punishment.

‘I don't know what to say,' I began feebly.

‘Don't say anything. That's enough talk for tonight.'