by Matthew Dunn
“Of course.” Archer looked at Susan. “Would you like that?”
Susan nodded. “I can’t go back to Russia. And I don’t know England. Plus, I want to get to know my real mother and sister.”
“That’s settled then.” She handed Susan and Elizabeth mugs of tea. “I was thinking we should get some takeaway pizzas tonight. What do you think?”
Both nodded.
Archer smiled. Everything was perfect, though she wished her father was still alive to be part of this reunion. Fleetingly, she thought about Natalia. No doubt she was stopped at the airport when trying to depart Russia. The FSB and SVR would be merciless. She’d be tortured to within an inch of her life and executed. Still, that was the price to pay if one got exposed as a double agent.
She drank her tea. “I think we should all go for a nice stroll on the promenade before dinner.” She looked at Susan. “I’ve booked an appointment for you tomorrow. It’s with a neighbour who teaches English to foreign students. She’s happy to see you for an hour a day at her home, until you’ve got a working knowledge of the language. She’s not going to charge me. I’ll show you where she lives when we go for our walk this evening.”
Susan replied, “Yes, that would be good.” She looked away, a tear rolling down her face. “Who were the people who raised me? The people I thought were my parents? Do you know?”
Archer shook her head. “I don’t.”
“It doesn’t matter. They died a few years ago.” Susan wiped away her tear. “How did you get to me? How did you get me released from the thugs who kept me in a cell for two days and held guns against my head?”
“It was Elizabeth who answered. “Jayne is in a powerful position in government. She exerted her influence with the Russians. She pulled out the stops to find you and to bring you to England.”
Susan replied, “But there must have been a trade. Jayne must have given them something in return.”
Archer said, “The British and the Russians do trades all the time. It’s complicated. On this occasion, and with my prime minister’s permission, I conducted what’s called back-channel diplomacy. I told the Russians how Britain would be voting at the next UN summit. Simple as that. Me doing that served Britain’s interest and Russian interests.”
Susan breathed in deeply. “I don’t know anything about politics.” Her mood lightened. “Yes. Let’s go for a walk.” She looked at Elizabeth. “If I get tired on the way back, can I sit on your scooter?”
Elizabeth laughed. “Absolutely not, my dear! My scooter; my rules.”
CHAPTER 13
The following morning, Knutsen fried bacon and eggs in the flat’s kitchen. He felt invigorated, in large part because his trip to Russia and voyage home had been such a mind-blowing adventure. He’d never experienced anything like it before – the dramatic scenery, new friendships, constant fear over Natalia’s safety, Gregor’s amazing house and grounds, hunting for dinner, working like an oil-smeared naval lackey in the engine room during his passage home, and the look Natalia had given him as she’d briefly touched his hand when they were alone on deck together. Now, he felt more alive than he’d ever been. But it was good to be back in West Square. It was the same feeling he imagined most people had when they returned from an amazing holiday – great time, but comforting to be home and surrounded by familiar and personal accoutrements.
Sign emerged from his room. He was wearing a suit and looked pitch perfect – hair immaculate, clean shaven, shoes polished to the standards of a guardsman, trouser creases like blades, not a single piece of fluff on his Gieves & Hawkes royal navy blue suit, silk tie bound in a Windsor knot over a heavy cotton white shirt with a cutaway collar, and the aroma of expensive shower gel he’d purchased from Harrods and a bespoke cologne he’d bought from a perfumery in Chelsea. He sat at the dining table. “I have an appointment with Jayne Archer at ten AM. That gives me one hour.”
Knutsen served up the food. “What have you told her?”
“My message to her was cryptic. I simply said I had news and no news and that we should meet at her house, alone.” He ate his food. “Archer’s mother will be out. If Susan is living with Jayne, she too will be out. I will be clearing the decks.”
Knutsen sat opposite him with his plate of food. “Meaning?”
“Meaning the innocents maintain a rite of passage towards a wondrous world and the guilty starve to death on a cold rock.” He looked at Knutsen. “As Gregor advised me, I will show no mercy.”
“That was already your stance. Gregor didn’t need to advise you.”
“Correct. But sometimes it pays to have affirmation from a man one wholly trusts.”
“Do you want me to help you today?”
Sign sliced his egg into two, allowing the yolk to flow over his pork. “I would like you to attend to Natalia. Before I leave, I will give you a plastic A4 folder. Inside is her British passport, the contact details of a woman who wishes to employ her as a freelance political analyst, a bank card and bank details, and a mobile phone. You will also furnish her with the details of the lovely flat you have secured her in Hertford. Take her there for a viewing today. She will want to make decisions about furnishings. I regret to say that you may have to go with her to Ikea or somewhere similar. I believe she moves in on Monday?”
“Yep. How did you get her bank card so quickly?”
Sign shrugged. “A bank card is only a bit of plastic and an account can be opened with a few taps on a keyboard. I know someone who can do these things in a matter of hours.”
Knutsen eyed him. Sign seemed cold, distant, and utterly focused. “You have that look. You’re about to mess with minds.”
“I often do that for good reasons. But, sometimes… yes, sometimes…”
“It’s okay. It has to be what it is.” Knutsen finished his food and cleared up the plates. “Fucking Ikea?! Why do I get the shit job?!”
Sign smiled. He knew Knutsen was making light of the day’s tasks. He also knew that Knutsen was trying in his own way to transfer strength to Sign, fully cognisant that Sign had the worst job of all. “Be happy today. Act excited in front of Natalia. Hold her hand when you go shopping.” He stood. “I will get you the folder. Then I must leave.”
At ten AM, Sign rang Archer’s doorbell.
She let him in to her house.
They sat in the lounge.
Archer said, “My mother’s gone shopping.”
Sign was motionless. “And Susan? Where is your sister?”
Archer feigned ignorance. “I thought you were going to give me the answer to that.”
Sign’s voice was cold when he replied, “Tom and I didn’t find Susan. We didn’t need to. You found her with the help of the Russians.”
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You got Susan in exchange for giving the FSB or SVR the name of the person who’d been giving British Intelligence the identities of Russian agents.”
“This is nonsense!”
Sign showed no emotion. “I withheld from you the real reason why I wanted Natalia to go to Russia. I tasked her to investigate what had happened to Susan. She found out everything, including why the Russians snatched her at birth. They wanted to use her as leverage against you. That event happened just over a week ago. You have betrayed an MI6 agent. Natalia is safe and far away from Russia. I made that happen. You and the Russians can’t touch her.”
Archer stood. “Get out of my house!”
But Sign didn’t move. “Decades ago, your treachery would have put you in front of a firing squad. These days, you will face life imprisonment.”
Archer paced back and forth. “I’ve done nothing wrong!”
“Your sister is living with you in this house.” He tossed a photo onto the coffee table. “Mr. Knutsen took that yesterday. There are you, Elizabeth, and Susan, having a walk alongside the Thames. You all look very happy. There wasn’t really a need to take the camera shot. I’d already spoken to the chief of MI6. He i
nformed that you’d told him you brought your sister to England and had asked for the service to facilitate her legal status here. He was happy for you. He also told me that he was aware that Natalia was off the radar. He had no idea why. He assumed she’d gone back to work in Moscow. He doesn’t suspect foul play on your part. That remains the case, because I didn’t enlighten him. Sit down. There are things you need to know.”
Fury remained on Archer’s face. She sat.
“Elizabeth and Michael are not your real parents. They were KGB and SVR moles whose sole job was to raise you to hate Russia. Your twin sister was raised by KGB caretakers in Russia. They pretended to be Susan’s parents. Your real parents were murdered immediately after your births. Your name is Anna Vichneva. Susan is Dina Vichneva. You are Russian. Elizabeth gave birth close to the time when you were born. She willingly let the KGB murder her child. It was all part of the plan. And Elizabeth knew there’d come a day when you’d be of use to her and her Moscow controllers. Susan/Dina was innocent throughout. Like you, she had no reason to suspect her parents were fake. Susan was just a pawn to be used someday to prompt you to betray the United Kingdom. You, however, are not innocent. You took the Russian bait. Were it not for my help, Natalia would be dead by now.”
Archer sat in stunned silence. “My mother is a lie?”
“Yes.”
“She knew the Russians wanted to give me the name of my double agent?”
“She knew everything.”
Archer was trying to process the information. “I didn’t… didn’t give them Natalia’s name.”
“Yes you did! It was the only way you could get Susan. Don’t make matters worse for yourself by lying to me!”
Archer bowed her head. In a barely audible voice, she said, “Natalia had dried up.” She looked at him. “What would you have done? What would anyone in my position have done? This is my flesh and blood we’re talking about. The Russians were threatening to kill Susan if I didn’t help them.”
“There is no doubting that you were placed in an impossible situation. You have my sympathies. You were forced to attempt the murder of Natalia Asina. This is what’s going to happen. In two hours, Special Branch will arrest you. In a closed court hearing, I will testify to your otherwise good character. It won’t result in a lenient sentence, but it may help your life imprisonment be a little more comfortable. Don’t attempt to flee the country on your real or alias passports. You would be arrested at any port.. He stood. “The reason I’m giving you two hours is to allow you a brief window of time to sort out your affairs.” He stood. “Do you understand what I mean? Good day to you Miss Archer.” He left the house.
Archer was shaking when he was gone. She called Elizabeth. ”Mum – are you on your way home?” She listened to her reply. “Good. I need to travel at short notice, but we’ve got a problem with the heating. I need to give you the number of the repair man I use.”
Ten minutes later Elizabeth was back home. Archer helped her sit in an armchair.
Elizabeth asked, “Is Susan at her English lesson?”
“Yes. She won’t be back for another thirty or so minutes. I need to pack and then I’ll tell you about the heating.” She went upstairs, picked up a pillow from Elizabeth’s bed, returned downstairs, and stopped at the entrance to the lounge. “You’re not my mother. You lied to me for all of my life. You’re a Russian agent. You made me betray my country and a woman who had barely started her adult life.”
Elizabeth’s mouth opened; her eyes were wide. “How did you know..?”
“Shut up!.” Archer walked quickly to her and shoved the pillow against Elizabeth’s mouth and nose. She pressed hard and held the pillow in place.
Elizabeth was twitching, but unable to do anything because her limbs were so weak.
Archer held the pillow there for three minutes. Her face was red from the exertion and from stress. She removed the pillow. Her mother was dead.
She returned upstairs and placed the pillow back on to Elizabeth’s bed. No doubt the pillow had Elizabeth’s saliva on it, but almost certainly a police forensics examination of the cushion would conclude that any secretions were simply as a result of night time sleep. And Archer’s fingerprints on the pillow would be totally explainable. After all, Archer had to regularly change Elizabeth’s bedding.
But, it was highly unlikely the police would be involved. Elizabeth was dying; she’d returned home, sat in her chair, had a nap, and stopped breathing.
Archer regretted that Susan would have to find Elizabeth dead. There was no alternative to that. She grabbed her handbag, left the house, and walked to East Putney tube station. She was in a daze. After buying a ticket, she stood on the platform. There were only a handful of other travellers on the platform. She walked to one end, away from the other commuters, and waited. The electronic information unit announced that the next train was due to arrive in one minute.
One minute.
That’s all she had.
A rush of wind coursed through the tunnel. The train was going to arrive at speed in seconds.
She waited.
She saw the train’s headlights.
Timing was everything.
When the train was two yards away, she leapt in front of it.
Her body and head were mangled into pieces.
CHAPTER 14
Three days’ later, Sign lit the fire in his lounge and poured two glasses of calvados. He handed one of them to Knutsen and sat in his armchair. Both men were facing each other. They were quiet for a while. Knutsen had been busy during the last forty eight hours, helping Natalia move furniture in to her new home. The men had barely had a chance to spend time together, Knutsen having arrived home at close to midnight during the preceding two days, and departing at six AM the following mornings. Knutsen had done his job. Natalia was happily ensconced in her new place. He’d see her in a week’s time, after she’d settled in. She’d invited him over for dinner. He was looking forward to that.
Sign sipped his drink and looked at his colleague. “All that could be done is now done. Natalia is safe. Susan has legal ownership of the Putney house, thanks to a few tweaks in the property deeds. It’s always good to have a dodgy lawyer on my books. MI6 Welfare Department will check on her regularly. Susan won’t know they’re MI6. Probably they’ll pose as Social Services or Home Office. She’ll be fine.”
“Will you see Susan?”
“No. There’s no need. It would serve no purpose.”
“Plus, just sight of her would remind you of Jayne.”
“I could handle that. Jayne was a professional acquaintance. Nothing more, nothing less. Susan must lead her own life now. The less she comes into contact with our murky world, the better. Ergo I must stay away.”
Knutsen eyed him. “Did you know Archer would kill her mother and take her own life?”
Sign hesitated. “I gave her a two hour window for a reason. What she did with that window was up to her.”
“In other words, you knew.” Knutsen frowned. “I can’t quite work out if I’m glad Archer’s dead.”
“Jayne wouldn’t have lasted in prison. She knew that. Every second of every day she’d have been tortured by the demons of circumstance – knowledge that her mother was not her mother, not seeing her sister, the arm lock that forced her into betraying Natalia.”
“Susan could have visited Jayne.”
Sign shook his head. “Jayne knew the drill. She’d have been placed in a top secret military facility. She wouldn’t be allowed to see other prisoners, let alone visitors. All she’d have to keep her company would be the silent memories in her head.” Sign sighed. “What a tragedy.” He placed his glass down, clapped his hands, and said in an upbeat tone of voice, “Let’s take a stroll to Borough Market. I’d like to check out what my favourite veg and meat stalls have to offer. Grouse is in season, so maybe we could pick up a brace. Plus, they’ll be quick to cook for this evening’s supper. After dinner we could grab a pint or two at our local.”
Knutsen smiled. “You’re on, mate.” He finished his drink. “Are we having a few days off work?”
Sign’s eyes twinkled as he replied, “Oh no, my dear chap. Tomorrow we are being visited by a new client.” He was brimming with energy as he added, “We must catch a serial killer whose victims don’t want to be found.”
THE END