‘Like I say, old acquaintance should not be forgot. And after your release, I was pleased to be able to squeeze a few journalistic scrota to keep the jackals from nipping too closely at your heels.’
‘Yes, I did notice. I wondered why you should feel so obligated. Then of course I talked to Medler and found out just how great your obligation really was.’
Childs shrugged and said, ‘It would have been easy to prevent your meeting Medler. But I felt you had a right to know everything, and you were more likely to believe what you heard from his lips than mine.’
‘I suppose I was. Of course, once he’d talked to me, who knows who he might talk to next? But, happily for you, he had his accident. A form of accident that would put me in a poor light if ever I tried to make public anything poor Arnie might have told me.’
He stared at Childs significantly.
‘Yes, there were certainly some at the Chapel who regarded that as a happy coincidence,’ said the other man blandly.
‘Not so happy for that poor bastard,’ said Wolf. ‘And are there perhaps some Chapel-goers who reckon it could be an even happier coincidence if I followed Medler in very short order?’
John Childs sipped his whisky and said slowly, ‘You’ve had trouble? Professional, I mean, not just the local vigilantes?’
‘A little.’
‘Then I’m glad that you worked out I was unlikely to be directly concerned.’
‘Did I? Why do you say that?’
‘Because you did not come through my window swinging your axe. What?’
Childs’s sharp eyes had detected a reaction.
‘Nothing.’
‘Let me guess. You had a visitor and you did welcome him with your axe?’
‘Visitors,’ said Hadda. ‘Two of them.’
‘That explains it. One you can take alive, two make that less of an option.’
‘What makes you think I didn’t take them alive?’
‘The degree of uncertainty about their origin. While being almost sure they weren’t Chapel, you still had to ask. If you’d kept one of them alive, I think you’d have known where they came from.’
‘Maybe not,’ said Hadda irritably. ‘I’m not such a cold bastard as you.’
‘Yet, despite your inner warmth, they’re both dead. How does that work, I wonder? But tell me about them.’
Hadda didn’t deny it but explained what had happened.
‘One of them was definitely one of the pair I took the drugs from on Drigg Beach,’ he concluded. ‘OK, so it’s understandable that they would want revenge, but how did they get on to me so easily, that’s what puzzles me. But I see it doesn’t puzzle you, JC.’
Childs smiled and said, ‘No, but not for the reason you are clearly suspecting. There was no tip-off from the Chapel. There didn’t need to be. Have you ever heard of a man called Pavel Nikitin? I see you have.’
Hadda thought, the old sod still doesn’t miss much!
He lied easily, ‘Only because when I was talking recently to Luke Hollins, my local padre who takes a strong parochial interest in my affairs, he brought me up to date on matters he thought might interest me. These included a list of people who’d been staying at Ulphingstone Castle over Christmas. And one of them was a man with a name that sounded rather like your chap, Nikitin.’
Childs nodded and said, ‘The same. He’s a Russian businessman, one of those who rose stinking rich out of the wreckage of the old Soviet Union. Eventually, however, fearing that there were too many ex-comrades back in dear old Moscow who still subscribed to Marxist principles about sharing wealth, about five years ago he opted to settle in the West. He is currently pursuing an application for UK citizenship. With strong political support, I may add. For the very best of reasons, of course.’
‘Like, he’d add so much to our cultural diversity? No? Then it must be because once he is accepted as a Brit cit, his wealth too becomes acceptable as political donation.’
‘Spot on, as always,’ applauded Childs.
‘But I don’t see how the Ulphingstones fit in here,’ said Hadda. ‘Leon is the least political person I know, and Kira believes that anyone who relies on a public vote for his power is a dangerous radical. So how come this Nikitin gets invited to stay at the castle?’
‘Politically he is very much in sympathy with Lady Kira,’ said Childs. ‘More importantly, he claims to be distantly related to her. And as he’s rich, personable, moves in the top circles, and has important people to stay at his various villas and on his luxury yacht, Lady Kira is happy to acknowledge the relationship. I would guess she sees in him a personification of all the old tsarist values so sadly destroyed in 1917.’
‘Sounds just her cup of tea. But if you know so much about him, JC, there has to be more.’
‘You know me too well,’ murmured Childs. ‘The details of the dubious means by which Nikitin made his Russian fortune, I don’t know, but I do know the kind of business he has been investing in since coming to the West. Alongside some conventional and legitimate commercial interests, he has a well-balanced criminal portfolio ranging from people-trafficking through drug-dealing to illegal arms sales.’
‘Jesus! And Sir Leon lets him into his house!’ exclaimed Hadda.
‘Now you’re being silly. Why should Sir Leon know anything of this? Nikitin can afford the very best lawyers. Any hint of criticism in the media gets sat upon with all the weight of a very well-upholstered legal bum, belonging, as I suspect you know, to our mutual friend, Toby Estover.’
Hadda didn’t deny it but said, ‘So the drugs I intercepted were Nikitin’s?’
‘Of course. I suspect that during one of his visits to the castle it occurred to him that parts of the Cumbrian coastline offered an ideal location for the safe landing of a not-too-bulky illicit cargo. I doubt he’ll be using it again.’
‘But it doesn’t explain how he got on to me so quick. And I still don’t understand what he was doing at the castle. OK, I can see Kira falling over herself backwards to get an invite to one of his swell parties. But why the hell would he be willing to accept her invitation to stay at the castle? I used to start yawning as I passed through the door!’
‘You’re forgetting the Estover connection.’
‘You mean Toby introduced him? But that still doesn’t explain . . .’
‘There’s more than one Estover,’ said Childs.
It took a moment to sink in.
‘What?’
‘Oh dear. Now I’m really glad you didn’t bring your axe. I’m not suggesting that the lovely Imogen was party to the attempt on your life, though why it should bother you so much if she were, I’m not quite sure . . .’
He looked invitingly at Hadda, who brushed aside the implied question and said, ‘So what are you saying, JC?’
‘Just that it seems Nikitin has taken a very strong fancy to Mrs Estover. Once he realized her mother’s background was Russian, he doubtless dug till he discovered, or perhaps he even invented, the family connection. Once he met Kira and saw what she was, he set about making her an ally.’
‘And Imogen, does she . . .?’
‘I’ve no idea whether he is her lover or not. But he will know all about you, if not from one or both of the Estovers, certainly from Lady Kira, who is not averse to telling the world that letting you out of jail to settle in such close proximity to Ulphingstone Castle was an outrage to human decency. So Nikitin would have known more than he perhaps cared to know about this large, lame, one-eyed woodcutter who was presented as a threat to the woman he loves. And when his men reported to him that his drugs consignment had been hijacked and destroyed by a large, lame, one-eyed man with an axe . . . well, he knew exactly where to find you, and now he had two reasons, one commercial and one sentimental, for wanting to get rid of you.’
Wolf said, ‘So why does the Chapel let this bastard wander around free?’
‘Our concern is with national security, not supra-national criminality.’
‘You coul
d pass what you know to the police.’
Childs said, ‘Who would do what with it? I doubt if it would even come to trial. He is well protected. Objections to his citizenship application have already been dealt with by Mr Estover with his usual silky efficiency, by his friends in high places with their usual winks and nods, and, where persistent, by Nikitin himself with ruthless brutality.’
‘You could always fit him up,’ said Hadda. ‘You’re good at that.’
‘We’d need to catch him with a body at his feet and blood on his hands,’ said Childs. ‘Be careful of him, Wolf. He will not be happy that his men have not returned. And the man whose jaw you broke is still alive and he’s the worst of the lot. His name is Pudovkin, known to his friends as Pudo. You did well to put him out of commission first, but you would have done better to put him out permanently. He is Nikitin’s chief attack dog. You were lucky he was probably still recovering from his experience on Drigg Beach when Nikitin decided to have you taken out.’
Hadda shrugged indifferently and said, ‘Maybe he was lucky. It occurs to me, JC, that maybe it’s really Estover you’re protecting here. That deal you did with him, the deal that put me in Parkleigh for seven years, remember? Access to all his confidential files on all his high-profile clients – how far would you go to protect that?’
‘Not perhaps as far as you think,’ said Childs. ‘In my opinion, Estover is rather passé as a source. His loss would leave a very small hole that could easily be filled.’
‘So if someone did move to sort him out, you wouldn’t be too bothered?’
‘Personally, not at all. So long as it was done with discretion.’
‘Meaning the Chapel is kept right out of the frame,’ laughed Wolf. ‘How much do you think Imogen knows about Toby’s work?’
‘It’s hard to say. She is not, so I gather, easy to read. But I need not tell you that. Have you spoken to her yet?’
‘Why would I want to talk to her?’
‘Wolf, I wish I could tell you how complicit she was in the plot to frame you, but I can’t. You must find that out for yourself. To do that, you need perhaps to talk. Or are you afraid of what you might do? Or of what you might not be able to do . . .?’
‘Don’t try to play your old mind games, JC,’ said Hadda.
‘No? I thought you were quite partial to playing mind games, Wolf.’
Hadda looked at him sharply, but that bland, amiable face gave nothing away.
‘I’ll talk to Imogen when I’m ready,’ he said.
‘Of course you will,’ said Childs. ‘Now, before you go, is there anything more I can do for you? Don’t be afraid to ask.’
Hadda regarded him dubiously then said, ‘All right. Any chance of getting me details of the accounts where Nutbrown and Estover have stashed their ill-gotten gains?’
‘Ah, the estimable Mrs Trapp is having a problem there, is she? Curious how lawyers protect their own secrets so much more vigorously than they do their clients’! Of course. Anything else?’
‘You’re being very helpful, JC. You must really be feeling guilty!’
Childs said, ‘Perhaps. Though of course I shouldn’t. My part in your troubles was late and slight, and based on the happily false intelligence that you were as good as dead. In a sense, we are both victims of accident and grim necessity.’
‘Our old friends, eh? I recall what you said when you introduced them to me way back. Something about love always losing out, I think.’
‘I believe I told you that one day you would understand what I meant. I suspect that day is now well behind you.’
‘Why do you say that? Nothing’s happened to me by accident, except perhaps . . .’ he raised his maimed hand to his scarred face and smiled ‘. . . my accident. As for grim necessity conflicting with love, that happily is a choice I shall never have to make.’
‘Really? And how do you propose avoiding it?’
‘By avoiding them. By controlling my life from now on in.’
‘And you think that’s possible? Perhaps it is, but only if you have extremely rare qualities . . . practically unique . . . let me see, I think I can lay my hands on it . . .’
He rose and went to his bookshelf, took down a volume and riffled through it.
‘Yes, here it is: Necessity and Chance approach not me, and what I will is Fate.’
‘That sounds about right,’ said Hadda. ‘You could have taken the words out of my mouth. Whose mouth did you take them out of?’
‘Milton’s,’ said Childs, holding the volume up so that Hadda could read the title.
‘Paradise Lost,’ said Hadda. ‘Never read it. But in my case, it seems pretty appropriate. And whose mouth did Milton put these words in?’
‘You should be careful, Wolf,’ said Childs. ‘It was God’s.’
7
There was so much to take in that Alva sat back in her chair and closed her eyes to concentrate on arranging it all into a meaningful pattern. But all she could see was Wolf Hadda laughing when she quoted the Observer article that suggested he’d been kidnapped by the fairies, then smiling mockingly as he claimed that, like True Thomas, he too came back unable to tell a lie.
Inside, he must have laughed quite a lot more as he led her along the fallacious road to his rehabilitation.
She opened her eyes. Doll Trapp’s face wore an expression of serene confidence. She clearly believed that she had proved Hadda’s innocence beyond all doubt. For a second Alva was tempted to point out that being very good in one area didn’t preclude being very bad in another. Human beings were much more complex than that.
Instead she said, ‘You’d never noticed that Sir Wilfred Hadda, the millionaire businessman, was one and the same as your own Wolf the Woodcutter?’
‘No,’ said Doll. ‘Never paid much attention to the business news, or the gossip columns for that matter.’
Alva wasn’t sure if she believed her.
‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Funny though that Wolf didn’t get in touch with you himself when he came to live in London.’
Doll laughed and said, ‘Not really. I suspect JC had told him it wouldn’t do me any good if he tried to renew the connection.’
‘Why would he say that?’
‘He’s a very careful man,’ said Doll.
‘So why did Wolf renew the connection?’ asked Alva.
‘That’s the kind of guy he is,’ said Doll. ‘Wolf might have stayed away from paying a social call because he was warned off for my sake, but it would have taken an SAS regiment to keep him away when he heard that Ed was in serious shit.’
‘Couldn’t your friends at the Chapel have helped sort it out?’
‘JC was the first person I turned to,’ said Doll grimly. ‘He said they already had a watching brief on the situation and, if it got worse, the Chapel might have to protect itself. I got the message. They don’t like publicity. Any sniff of Ed’s connection with the Chapel, they’d treat like a gas leak: cut it off at the source. No, if it hadn’t been for Wolf . . . Anyway when it was all done, I resigned. Didn’t go down too well and I didn’t get a leaving prezzie unless you count a blunt reminder that the Official Secrets Act was operative till the end of time! I didn’t give a toss! I knew that Ed was going to need me close from now on in, so I went back to being a paralegal and kept his business ticking over till he came back to work.’
‘And Wolf, how strong were his links with the Chapel at that point, do you think?’
‘Don’t know, didn’t want to know. But, international businessman with contacts everywhere, I’m sure they’d have wanted to use him.’
‘So how might they have reacted when his troubles started?’
Doll said, ‘Their main concern would have been that something might come out that tracked back to them. Like with Ed, but Wolf was a lot more significant, of course.’
‘You sound bitter,’ said Alva, who saw no reason not to be as direct with Doll as she was with her.
‘Do I? Then I’m being silly. No taste fo
r sentimental mush at the Chapel.’
The kind of mush that made you help a kid in trouble, the kind that brought that same kid riding to the rescue when you and Ed got in trouble, thought Alva.
She said, ‘They say in politics that loyalty’s a one-way street. So you no longer have any contact with the Chapel?’
‘Last time I heard from them was when Ed started acting for Wolf. Phone rang. It was JC. I thought at first he was going to try and warn us off acting for Wolf. Instead, when I told him how bad things were, what with the strong evidence and Wolf’s state of mind, he sounded genuinely upset. I made it clear I believed absolutely in Wolf’s innocence and he said, “So do I, Doll. So do I. But in this wicked world, innocence is sometimes not enough.” And that was that.’
‘No offer of assistance then?’
‘No way! But at least after talking to him I felt sure it wasn’t the Chapel who’d set Wolf up. Not directly, anyway. I know now they got their finger in the pie later.’
Alva made a note of that for future exploration, but she wanted to get the basic picture clear to start with.
‘What made you consider the possibility that it was the Chapel setting him up?’
Doll shrugged and said, ‘Wolf’s a man who likes to make his own choices. Like he did with Ed. If he’d done something that really got their knickers in a twist, the Chapel would have been quite willing and able to put him out of commission. Only it would probably have been less round-the-houses. Car accidents – they were very good at car accidents. So maybe he was lucky.’
‘Lucky? You call getting banged up for something you didn’t do lucky?’ said Alva.
Doll seemed to take this as a reproof.
‘We did everything we could for him,’ she said angrily. ‘Trouble was, back then Wolf just didn’t want to know. Imo divorcing him and marrying Estover, his friends deserting him, the accident crippling him. It was all too much. And it didn’t stop when he got to jail. First his old dad died, then his daughter. It was like Wolf had died himself.’
‘I believe Ginny’s death was the trigger that brought him back to life,’ said Alva.
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