Spy People

by Duncan James

  “How much are we talking about?”

  “Not a lot by our standards, but if you work for a small security company in rural Hampshire, quite a lot. Certainly it proved to be enough. Each man was paid £2,500 - £1,000 up front and the remainder after the successful conclusion of the operation. So you will be looking for one or two cash withdrawals, totalling £5,000, within the last couple of weeks probably. If you can trace it, then a copy of the relevant bank account statement would be like gold dust. We shall need all the evidence we can get.”

  “I hope you realise, Bill, that what you are asking of me is totally illegal. My future and the future of my business would be ruined for ever if this went wrong.”

  “Of course I realise that. But if you want a formal contract in writing and a certificate of indemnity, then I can arrange for you to have them. However, in my experience, papers can leak, so I don’t recommend it. At the moment, only one other person knows that we have made contact again and are meeting.”

  “Gladys?”

  “Right. She’s my PA.”

  “She told me that if you did ‘take me on’, as she put it, I was to be sure to keep all the receipts.”

  “I’m under the same instructions,” laughed Bill. “There will be a fee, of course. Cash if you prefer. Just tell me how much.”

  “Shall we say £5,000 if I’m successful?”

  “Done. Will you be?”

  “Probably.”

  ***

  Bill took the opportunity to arrange a quick and private meeting with the Director General of MI5 later that afternoon. It was the third they’d had in as many days. They concluded that they should now bring MI6 into play as well. They urgently needed GCHQ to do more work on their behalf, so who better to organise it than their Director.

  “Still no word from Algar?” asked ‘M’, Robert Neil.

  “Nothing”, replied Clayton.

  “Displaying a positive lack of curiosity, isn’t he?”

  “Let’s keep it that way for a few more days. He’s busy anyway – a bit of a Cabinet reshuffle to deal with and a couple of VIP visits from abroad.”

  “He’s still Chairman of the Joint Intelligence Committee, though. You’d think he would show more interest in what you’re doing to find a couple of Russian agents on the run.”

  “So far as I know, he still thinks we’re looking for them in Yorkshire.”

  The MI5 man grinned.

  “I could arrange to send him a postcard, if you like!”

  Their meeting early next morning with ‘C’, Sir Michael Richard, the Director General of MI6, was very interesting.

  “Moscow station reports that the murder of your Barbara is causing quite a stir,” he said. “Added to which there are suggestions from their people in Switzerland that Sasha Makienko has committed suicide in Geneva. Moscow is beginning to feel it’s no longer in control, and they don’t like that.”

  “Does the Ambassador here know about this?” asked Bill.

  “Probably, by now. GCHQ is keeping an ear open.”

  “I have to say,” said Neil, “that if your theory is anything like accurate, Bill, then a lot of things begin to make more sense now than they have in the past.”

  “I agree,” said Sir Michael. “There are bits of jig-saw slotting into place quite neatly if we are to believe your hypothesis, and many things can be explained which have hitherto escaped us.”

  “We might even be starting to find some evidence to support your theory in one or two other cases. We’ve known for some time that there was a ‘sleeper’ unit operating in London, but not where or who.”

  “Anna Chapman was probably the best known. Lived and worked in Manhattan for ten years before she was finally discovered.”

  “But we can’t do much without evidence.”

  “Well,” said Bill, “I’m very hopeful of being able to provide firm proof in one case I’m following up. I should know very soon.”

  “How soon is ‘very’” asked ‘M’.

  “In the next day or so, with luck.”

  “Perhaps what we should be doing now, while others beaver away, is plan what to do next.”

  “Without a doubt,” said Bill Clayton, “we shall have to tell Sir Robin Algar what we know and or suspect.”

  “And not the whole Intelligence Committee?”

  “I agree,” said ‘C’, “Just him and we three.”

  “Special Branch?”

  “Perhaps we should have the police hovering in the wings in case we need them. I’ll get Brian Newman organised. His people have played a large part in this operation, and he can have some of his chaps standing by in case they are wanted.”

  “The whole thing will need to be carefully choreographed.”

  “But we’ll get nowhere if the whole JIC is at our briefing,” said the MI6 man. “Apart from us, they are mostly Permanent Secretaries and top civil servants from Departments who won’t have a clue what we’re talking about.”

  “Agreed. They can be briefed later if necessary.”

  “It’s down to you then, Bill. Just come up with the evidence we all need, and we can launch forth.”

  “Sooner the better, too. If Moscow is getting fidgety, word could get back and ruin everything.”

  “I’ll let you know the minute I know,” promised Bill.

  “Meanwhile,” said Robert Neil, Director General of MI5, “why don’t we have a glass of lunch. We could go to The Tapster wine bar in Brewer Street, just off Buckingham Gate. It’s a basement bolthole, and about the nearest decent place to Scotland Yard. Usually full of guys from Special Branch, so quite discreet. We might even meet Brian there. It should be safe enough.”

  ***

  It goes without saying that Dusty was as pleased as Punch to see Annie again, especially as it was so unexpected.

  “You didn’t tell me you were coming,” he said. “I would have kept these two away until tomorrow if I’d known.”

  Nick and Peter grinned.

  “This is the young lady I was telling you about, Peter,” said Nick, who introduced them.

  “I feel a bit out of place already,” said Peter, “since I’m the only one here who hasn’t saved your life in one way or the other, Dusty.”

  “You’re looking after my future,” countered Dusty. He turned to Annie. “I probably should not be telling you this, as it’s all top secret, but” – he looked around him – “I’m going to join MI5, and Peter’s fixing the training for me before I go back to Section 11.”

  They all laughed.

  “I’m not at all sure I want a spy as a boyfriend,” said Annie, “and certainly not as a husband.”

  “That’s that, then,” said Dusty. “I’m not joining! Did I mention, by the way, that Annie has agreed to take on the life she helped to save on a permanent basis?”

  “Congratulations, you two,” said Nick.

  The two men shook Dusty warmly by the hand, and gave Annie a hug.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Annie. Dusty has hardly stopped talking about you lately, and now I’ve met you out of uniform, I can see why!”

  Annie blushed.

  “By the way,” he added, “Christian names only, if we’re going to the pub.”

  “In that case, Nick,” said Dusty, “perhaps you’d be our best man. We both thought it would be a wonderful idea, but were worried about asking. I was supposed to be yours, I know, but it would be super if you could. It won’t be anything elaborate, and only a few people probably, once I’ve fully recovered.”

  “I’d really be pleased to do that,” replied Nick. “Thanks for asking. Now, just where is this pub? There’s a lot to celebrate.”

  “I’ll lead the way in my car, if you like,” offered Annie. “But it’s only a Mini, so it’ll be a tight fit for us all.”

  “Come in ours, then, and you navigate,” said Nick. “We’ve brought the office BMW.”

  “And I’m buying the first round,” announced Dusty. “I can’t remember whe
n I last went to a decent pub.”

  “At one time, not so long ago, I didn’t think you were ever going anywhere again,” said Nick.

  “When we get there, let’s drink to the future, and forget the past,” said Dusty. “I’d better tell them where I’m going, I suppose.”

  “Don’t say who with,” said Peter. “They may not let you out.”

  They soon settled into a cosy corner of the 16th century Inn, and Dusty headed to the bar – three pints and a glass of Pinot.

  “And don’t forget the crisps,” said Nick.

  “He’s left his stick behind,” noticed Peter. “I’ll go and give him a hand.”

  Annie put her hand firmly on his arm to stop him.

  “Please don’t. Let him do it on his own. It’s his first solo.”

  They watched as he carefully navigated across the room, clutching his tray of drinks. The crisps slid off the tray, and they heard him mutter ‘bugger’. Another customer picked them up, but Dusty kept going, concentrating hard. At last he got the tray to their table.

  “Look at that,” he said triumphantly. “Hardly spilt a bloody drop.”

  They all cheered, and some of the other customers who had been watching joined in.

  “Do you know,” he said, “that’s done me a power of good. I feel normal again. Now, where’s that curry? Let’s see if my guts can take it!”

  ***

  Bill Clayton had been on the phone to Sir Robin Algar for the first time in what seemed like ages.

  “I thought I should up-date you on the project you gave me a week or so ago,” he said.

  “That would be welcome. I’m sorry I’ve rather left you to it, but my life has not been my own lately, what with one thing and another. Have you made any progress?”

  “Yes, I think we have. That’s why I thought I should brief you, so that you know how far we’ve got.”

  “Over the phone?”

  “No. Why don’t you come over to these offices in Clerkenwell? It’s a long time since you paid us a visit, anyway, and we have various things here which we can show you – videos and so on – relevant to our hunt for the informer.”

  “It would be good to get away from here, I must confess,” said Sir Robin.

  They agreed on the following afternoon.

  “I’ll have Robert Neil and Sir Michael Richard here to help with the briefing as they’ve played a big part in this investigation, and probably the head of Special Branch too, if he can make it,” said Clayton.

  “Just the four of you, then. I shall look forward to catching up,” said Algar.

  Clayton decided not to drive home that evening, as he usually did, but to go by bus and tube.

  It was just as well.

  Archie brought his car home for him later, and collected a bullet hole through the passenger door on his way. The two men on a motorbike who were shadowing him saw nothing.

  ***

  They had decided to hold the meeting in the Briefing Room.

  Gladys brought them coffee, with proper cups and saucers rather than mugs.

  “I’m not much good at tea,” she announced, “but if anyone would rather, I’ll have a go.”

  There were no volunteers.

  They sat in a semi-circle, at a table near one of the computer monitors. The Briefing Room had others sitting at the back, as Sir Robin noticed.

  “People who have been involved,” Clayton nodded towards them, “in case they can help with any questions you may have afterwards.”

  “Good idea,” said Algar.

  “It’s probably best to start at the beginning,” said Bill when they had settled, “as much as anything to remind ourselves how this all began.”

  Algar nodded in agreement.

  “As you will know, Sir Robin,” Clayton continued, “at the start, we actually had two mysteries to solve. Our main task was to find the source of leaks surrounding the Barclay case, but on top of that we had the sudden and unexpected disappearance of my PA, Barbara Wilkinson. We decided at the outset that the two cases were probably unconnected, so concentrated on trying to track down the source of the security leaks, as you had tasked us.

  “But it was very tempting to believe that Barbara herself was the source of the leaks, and that the case had been solved almost before we had started. After all, she had access to almost all of the information which appeared to have been passed to the Russians, but she was not alone in that. You and I and others had similar access. We also had in mind the fact that you had recruited her in the first place, Sir Robin, and that she had joined Section 11 on your recommendation and with a good security clearance.

  “So we decided to start at the beginning and treat the two cases separately.

  “I won’t bore you by rehearsing all the facets of the case, as you are familiar with the facts surrounding Professor Barclay, and the reasons that you tasked Section 11 to look after his security.

  “Our approach to the task you gave us was quite methodical, as you would expect, Sir Robin. My own job was to co-ordinate the activities of those who had the ultimate responsibility for counter-espionage, for national security and for criminal investigation, which is why the Heads of those organisations are here now,

  “We started by drawing up a list of the information which had been passed to the Russians, in some cases directly to their agent Dmitri Makienko. We then drew up a parallel list of all those who had access to that information, and that was where the case started to get very interesting. Near the top of that list was Barbara; so near the top, indeed, that we were then able to put the two cases together and run a single enquiry.”

  “So who were the others at the top of your list?” asked Algar.

  “I was,” replied Clayton. “In fact, I was the only one who knew everything that was passed on, apart of course, from yourself. Naturally, I discounted myself, and colleagues here this afternoon have agreed that this was appropriate.”

  “I hope you’re not saying that I was alone at the top of your list of suspects?”

  “I am suggesting exactly that,” replied Clayton. “You, Sir Robin, are the only one who could possibly have been responsible for all the leaks.”

  “But that is preposterous, of course,” he almost laughed. “So where have your investigations led, in all seriousness, and who do you regard as the prime suspect?”

  “You are our only suspect.”

  “This is ridiculous.” Algar stood in protest. “I did not come here to be insulted in this way. I had hoped that the top security experts in the country would have done better than this.”

  Two of the men at the Briefing Room monitors stood, and walked across to the group.

  “Please sit down, Sir Robin, and hear me out. You will have a chance to speak later.”

  Sir Robin Algar looked about him, but saw no option but to take his seat and listen to what was being said.

  “First of all, we have looked at the recruitment of Barbara Wilkinson, in which you played a major role,” continued Clayton. “Her security clearance seems to have been less than thorough, shall we say, and it appears that corners were cut at your insistence. For example, you took it for granted that she, and her mother, had come from Yorkshire, not least because they were able to produce documents which appeared to prove that. In fact, as I believe you know, the documents were fakes. They proved to be the identity of a couple who had died many years before. As you will also know, the pair was from Russia and was what are known as ‘dead doubles’. They had come over here as agents, in an unusual form of sleeper cell. You recruited them, and eventually recommended Barbara to Section 11.

  “My predecessor, Alan Jarvis, became suspicious, so you had to get rid of him. It was an ingenious but devious plot, which Makienko very nearly totally messed up, when he mistakenly arranged for Jarvis to kill Barclay’s brother instead of Professor Barclay himself.

  “You had recruited me to run this section to replace Jarvis, no doubt believing that an Army major, as I then was, would b
e a safer bet than anyone from the highly professional security services. But it wasn’t long before I, too, became suspicious that information was leaking from Section 11. For example, you will recall that Barclay went to America to address fellow scientists at the Lawrence Livermore University, and that I sent a couple of my people over with him to keep watch. There were two KGB people in the audience, as well as FBI agents. Apart from myself, you were the only person who could possibly have tipped off the Russians. Barbara did not know he was going.

  “When I told you of my suspicions about a possible informer, you managed eventually to blame it on a junior clerk of some sort in the Cabinet Office, who very soon afterwards had a fatal road accident before he could be questioned. But even this did not stop the leaks, as you know.”

  By now, Sir Robin Algar was looking increasingly uncomfortable, but sat in stunned silence.

  “You will know, because I mentioned it to you, that we were now becoming increasingly suspicious of Barbara as being the source of these and other leaks. And she certainly was the source of some of them, and had obviously been passing information directly to Makienko. But by now, it was becoming equally obvious to you that, unless she was removed quickly, she would be at risk of discovery, and that your role as her field commander would then be uncovered. So you planned for her hasty return to Russia, with her ‘mother’, and her son Donald. It was eventually Donald who proved to be your undoing.”

  Algar stood, red in the face.

  “This is utterly preposterous,” he fumed. “I refuse to sit here any longer listening to this insulting fiction of lies.”

  “You will leave here when I have finished,” said Clayton, “and not before. So please sit down.”

  He did so.

  “It was about this time that you started making stupid mistakes, probably because you were becoming increasingly concerned that you may yourself be uncovered,” claimed Clayton. “You not only had to get rid of Barbara before you were exposed, you had in some way to try to cover up your own involvement. As one would expect from a top civil servant, some of the events you had planned were masterful. For example, getting Barclay out of his research project, which was seen as such a threat to the Russian economy, and out of the country as well after Makienko’s bungled attempt to assassinate him, was very clever indeed. But you had not bargained on Makienko’s free-lance attempt to go after him. Only you knew that Barclay had gone skiing, and where, so it must have been you who told Makienko. It was clumsy of you to tell me on the phone later that you would convene a meeting of the JIC, and get your girl to ring Barbara to fix it, when you knew that Barbara had already left the country.