by CJ Carver
How to find the carrot that would persuade Ivan to tell Dan where Jenny was?
He felt more than saw Ozzie approach. Both of them wore thick padded jackets and hats and gloves. Ozzie’s nose had reddened in the raw air and he clapped his hands, but whether he was simply trying to get his circulation going or cover a bout of nervousness, Dan couldn’t tell.
‘Nice weather for it,’ Dan remarked.
‘I thought you’d find it easier if we spoke in the open.’
Dan nodded in acknowledgement. The men surveyed one another.
‘OK,’ Ozzie said. ‘Spill it.’
Dan described the scene at the cottage. Taking Aimee to her grandparents. Calder’s shooting. Hitting the woman, Yelena Mayask. ‘I did it to make her let go of my arm. She was stopping me from defending Calder.’
Ozzie pulled a face. ‘I lied about your killing her. I was so pissed off with you . . . You broke some teeth and wrenched her neck, but she’ll be OK.’
‘I know. I saw her moving as I ran after Calder.’
‘She’s in the Margate Hospital, under guard,’ Ozzie said. ‘Not that we’ve advertised the fact, needless to say. She’s not saying anything.’ His gaze intensified on Dan. ‘What about your man?’
‘He escaped,’ Dan said smoothly. ‘I have no idea where he is.’
Ozzie looked at him. ‘Bernard wants me to tell you that you must release him to us immediately.’
‘If he hadn’t escaped,’ said Dan, ‘and I could hand him over to you, what would you do with him?’
‘Use him to negotiate the return of your wife.’
‘With who?’
‘The FSB,’ Ozzie said.
Dan just looked at Ozzie. The officer looked away. Both of them were aware the FSB probably had no knowledge of the operation since, according to Ekaterina, the two FSB agents were rogue, working clandestinely for Edik Yesikov.
‘Could he be useful to you?’ Dan asked.
‘Very much so. He’s not just a grunt. He’s fairly high up. He did his time in the field but he’s been indoors for the past three years. He’s with the BSEU. The Bureau for the Support to Export Utilities.’
Dan blinked. So, Ivan wasn’t a foot soldier but an agent with a brain. Yesikov obviously didn’t want to trust just anyone with this mission.
‘Your man,’ Ozzie said, ‘is important enough for us to offer him half a million dollars and a new life.’
Dan was so startled something must have shown on his face because Ozzie nodded in concord. ‘I know. I was surprised too. But apparently he’s perfectly positioned to be able to tell us Russia’s plans for its utilities future. Russia is already behind the anti-fracking movement in the UK and we suspect she’s been undermining France’s nuclear projects too. Our friend Ivan can give us the inside track so we can foil Russia’s plans. Stay one step ahead.’
Ozzie brought his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. ‘Trouble is he’s got a wife. If the Russians get a whiff we have Ivan, they’ll grab her and exert pressure. We have to get her first. But before we even approach her, we need Ivan.’
‘I’ll see whether I can track him down for you,’ Dan said in an even tone.
Ozzie studied him. ‘Don’t fuck this up, Dan.’
Dan didn’t respond. He was already walking away.
He had the carrot he needed.
Dan drove fast to the quarry. He’d left a message for Ibro when he joined the M25, but the Bosnian didn’t call him back for over an hour.
‘We have worked all day,’ he told Dan. He sounded ebullient. ‘He is terrified of the water. He went to pieces, you know? We didn’t hurt him, just used water, but he’s a mess.’
‘He’s coherent?’
‘He needs to rest a little. But he’s ready for you, Daniel. No problem.’
Dan arrived at the quarry at six minutes past four. He’d stopped en route for a packet of cigarettes and a lighter, and the smell of food prompted him to divert briefly for a hasty meal of steak and ale pie, mash and vegetables, and a Mars bar which he devoured while he walked back to his car. He didn’t taste what he ate. His mind was too busy. He merely needed fuel. He might not get a break once he started interrogating Ivan Golov.
Ibro greeted him with a handshake and lots of nodding. ‘He is absolutely ready for you. One hundred per cent. They don’t train them like they used to, you know. Ten years ago it would have taken two days, but today it was barely six hours.’
He didn’t want to go into the fact Ivan Golov had probably gone soft since he’d had an office job and he kept his expression perfectly dispassionate, forcing himself to suppress the revulsion that rose inside at the horror he’d instigated. He simply said, ‘His clothes?’
Ibro showed him into the concrete building. It used to be a toilet and shower block and each cubicle was partitioned to the roof, which was also concrete. Light came from bare electric bulbs in the ceiling. Steel casement windows lined the far wall. Most were open to the elements, their glass having been broken. The air was cold and wet. Despite his down jacket Dan could feel a chill start to creep into his bones.
The Russian’s clothes were neatly stacked next to one of the basins. ‘Here.’ Ibro passed Dan a small key, which Dan palmed. He put the clothes in the crook of his arm.
Dan found Ivan Golov at the far end of the shower block. He was naked and handcuffed to one of the iron windows. The room was freezing cold and slick and shining with water. It smelled of bleach. Ibro and Mirza had hosed not just the Russian but the walls, ceiling and floor. They had then put two plastic chairs against the wall, on either side of a small metal table.
When Dan stepped into view, Ivan cowered into a ball, eyes squeezed shut as he cringed to one side. He was panting, gasping with fear, his whole body trembling uncontrollably. Dan saw the man’s wrist was swollen and red where he’d broken it in the hospital, but Ibro had eased the cuffs so they didn’t cut off his circulation. When he said something in Russian – it sounded as though he was begging – Dan said, ‘Good evening, Mr Golov.’
Ivan cracked open his eyes. ‘P-please,’ he stammered. ‘No more.’
Dan waited.
‘I beg you.’ He began to sob. Tears streaked his face. His chest and stomach heaved in and out as he gasped. He had a strong body, fit and well muscled, but he was shuddering as though he was gripped in a fever. Dan could hear his teeth chattering.
‘Help me,’ he pleaded.
Dan knew he was taking a risk with such an athletic man but with Jenny’s life at stake, he didn’t see he had any other option. Hoping Ibro was right and that he’d broken Ivan, he stepped forward and unlocked the handcuffs. He was ready for the Russian to spring up and attack him, but Ivan collapsed to the floor, groaning and shuddering.
‘Oh, Gospodi, oh Bozhe!’ Dear God, oh, dear God.
Dan helped him up. Helped him get dressed. He would have fallen over if Dan hadn’t bolstered him. He shook continually, mumbling beneath his breath. It sounded as though he was praying.
‘Please,’ said Dan. ‘Sit down.’
Dan took one chair. Ivan took the other. He put a hand on his forearm, protecting his broken wrist. His teeth were still chattering and his eyes were jumpy, flitting between the door and Dan continually, no doubt in terror of Ibro and Mirza coming in again.
‘Now,’ said Dan. ‘I want you to understand one thing. If you don’t tell me where my wife is, you will remain here with the Bosnians indefinitely. They will ensure things will get worse. When you eventually die of your injuries, you will be buried in the quarry. Nobody will know what happened to you.’
‘Yes, they will.’ Ivan raised his chin, trying to find some bravado, save some face. His voice was raspy and rough, but his words were clear. ‘My people have resources. They will find me.’
‘If you’re talking about the FSB, they don’t even know you’re here.’
‘Of course they do.’ But his tone wasn’t firm enough and he seemed to realise it because he looked away.
> ‘We’ve been in touch with Edik Yesikov. He denies knowing you or Yelena Mayask. Your mission was always deniable. You’re on your own. So either you tell me where my wife is, or –’
‘Yelena?’ Ivan said. His mouth gaped. ‘She is alive?’
He stared at Dan. He was astonished, Dan saw, but it was the light that began to glimmer at the back of the man’s eyes that made Dan come alert. However, he didn’t show he’d noticed anything. He continued speaking as though he hadn’t been interrupted. ‘. . . Or I will kill you. Not with anything quick like a gun or a knife, but with water. Over the following days the Bosnians will work on you, non-stop, until your stomach ruptures and your lungs collapse.’
The trembling increased. ‘No,’ he said. His voice cracked. ‘Please, not that . . .’
‘Where is my wife?’ Dan demanded.
Ivan planted a fist on the table but his trembling made the metal clatter. He jerked back and held the elbow above his damaged wrist, trying to hold Dan’s gaze but his eyes kept sliding away.
Ten years ago Dan would have been tempted to grab him and punch him senseless, but he knew better now. He’d learned how to let silences work for him. He leaned back in his chair, scratched an imaginary itch on his throat and let the silence stretch. The air was now so cold ice had begun to form on the floor.
Eventually, almost imperceptibly, some tension left the Russian’s shoulders. Dan breathed in a lungful of air, breathed it out in a gusting sigh. ‘Ivan, you will leave me no choice.’
Ivan turned his torso away from Dan. Squeezed his eyes shut. ‘I will tell you, if you send me home.’
Dan gave a bark of laughter. ‘You really think Yesikov will give you a hero’s welcome?’
Another silence descended, so dense that the only thing Dan could hear was the pulse in his ears and the soft flutter of cloth from the Russian’s trembling.
‘Then kill me,’ Ivan said. His words were defiant but his body betrayed his terror by convulsing violently. He merely had to think of Ibro forcing the tube down his throat and his body reacted.
‘I really don’t want to have to do that,’ Dan said gently. ‘Look, I can see you’re between a rock and a hard place. Damned if you tell me where my wife is. Damned if you don’t.’ He gave a long sigh as he brought out the packet of cigarettes and lighter he’d bought at the service station. Took off the cellophane and silver-paper membrane and shook out a cigarette. Offered it across the table. Ivan was shaking so much Dan had to help him light it.
‘But what else can I do?’ Dan continued. ‘You’re married. What would you do if we decided to kidnap Alisa? Put her under some pressure?’
The threat to Ivan’s wife was unmistakable, and when the Russian didn’t respond, didn’t leap to protect her, Dan’s instincts came alert once more. Ivan was dragging shakily on his cigarette, gaze fixed on the floor, his mind seemingly elsewhere.
Dan let silence fall again. He waited until Ivan had finished his cigarette before he rested his elbows on the table and leaned in towards him. ‘Now, about Yelena Mayask . . .’
A tension came over Ivan. Dan tried to analyse it.
‘Where . . . is she?’ Ivan asked. It was a whisper, and although he’d only said three words, they gave him away.
Dan felt the beginnings of a wave of triumph swell in his belly but quickly quelled it. He didn’t want his expression to change.
‘She’s somewhere safe,’ Dan told him. ‘She’s OK.’
Dan had no doubt that if the Russian was fit and well and not terrified for his life, he would have retained a face like a board, but not today. The flash of relief was unmistakable.
‘She hasn’t told me where my wife is yet,’ Dan went on. ‘She said she wouldn’t until she knew you were OK.’
Ivan’s eyes widened. Dan knew he had to tread carefully and try not to let the man know he hadn’t seen Yelena, and had no idea of her or her personality, her thoughts.
‘How long have you worked together?’ Dan asked.
Ivan’s shoulders twisted. ‘A few missions,’ he mumbled. ‘We work together well.’
‘That’s what she said. That you work together well. It’s good when you find a reliable partner. Someone to depend upon.’
Ivan was still nodding. ‘She is the best partner,’ he agreed. ‘And she is OK?’
Dan picked up the cigarette packet, put it down. ‘It was her idea . . .’ He looked away. ‘I’m not sure . . .’
Ivan watched Dan, uncertain. ‘She has an idea?’
‘Yes.’ Dan sighed. ‘But I don’t think my superiors will go for it.’
Ivan leaned forward. ‘What is her idea?’
‘I don’t think you will like it.’
He was almost out of his chair. ‘What?’
Dan leaned back, frowning. ‘Well, she said you could both be useful here, in England.’
Ivan stared at him.
‘I mean,’ Dan went on, ‘you both know things that are of interest to us. But it would mean not returning to Russia. I don’t suppose you’ve ever thought of living in, say, London. And what about your wife? We’d never be able to get her out, so you’d be here, all alone . . .’
Ivan’s fingers were trembling so hard he couldn’t take another cigarette from the packet.
‘But,’ Dan went on thoughtfully, ‘there are lots of Russians living in London. You wouldn’t feel out of place, you know. You can get cabbage pies, herring and sausage. Pelmeni and Smetana. We have Russian barbers, shops selling matryoshkas . . .’
Ivan had a cigarette in his mouth now, but his fingers were fumbling with the lighter. Whether from nerves, excitement or terror Dan couldn’t tell. He hoped it was all three.
‘I guess it would be easier if you had some money. Say if we gave you half a million in sterling. Enough to buy a little apartment, maybe start a little business, like a shop or café. We’d help you set up a new life. They wouldn’t be able to find you, unless you wanted them to. And in return you give us everything you know about the Bureau for the Support to Export Utilities. And I mean everything.’
Ivan gripped the lighter in both hands and finally flicked on the flame. Sucked in smoke like a man starved. He said, ‘This is Yelena’s idea?’
‘Yes.’ Dan’s lie came easily.
‘Half a million sterling?’
‘Yes.’ At least that was the truth. Dan looked at the man straight. He said, ‘Where is my wife?’
Although Ivan Golov didn’t have any guarantee that anything Dan said was true, or any evidence Dan wouldn’t send in Ibro and Mirza to torture him until he died, the Russian clutched on to the one thing that investigators had relied on for thousands of years: hope.
Dan only had to ask him a few questions. Jenny had been flown directly to a specialised private clinic on the outskirts of Moscow. Ivan knew the name of the place and where it was because he’d been told if for any reason he and Yelena couldn’t get Jenny out on the jet, they were to get her there by any other means.
‘Why?’ Dan asked.
Ivan looked blank.
‘Why a clinic? Why does Edik Yesikov want my wife?’
The Russian opened and closed his mouth. ‘I don’t know this.’
‘OK.’ Dan took a breath. ‘Why did you kill Polina Calder and her children?’ He switched the subject to try and see if Ivan was lying about Jenny or not.
Ivan looked surprised. ‘We did not kill them.’
For the first time, Dan got a sensation of something very wrong. ‘What do you mean? You killed Adrian Calder in the hospital –’
‘Yes. We were told to eliminate him after we had your wife. But we did not kill his family. He did this, yes?’
Dan wrestled to keep his unease from showing. ‘What about Aleksandr Stanton?’
‘We eliminated his wife, on orders received yesterday.’
Dan’s stomach tightened. ‘You didn’t kill Aleksandr Stanton?’
‘He was killed by a horse, no?’ The Russian frowned
.
A short, snaking silence.
‘No,’ said Dan. ‘He wasn’t.’
The Russian seemed to make little of it and gave a shrug.
After a moment Dan asked more questions. Tried to work out through this dark and bloody mess what exactly was going on. Was Adrian Calder guilty after all? But what about Aleksandr Stanton? He studied Ivan carefully but couldn’t be certain whether the Russian was lying, or if he was genuine and telling the truth.
‘Half a million sterling?’ Ivan said for the third time. ‘Yes?’
Dan left Ivan Golov sitting on the chair being guarded by the Bosnians. Outside, it was dark and icy cold, no wind. His fingers tingled as he brought out his phone and rang Ozzie. Gave him directions to collect the Russian.
‘Don’t let him out of your sight,’ Dan told him. ‘In case he’s lying about Jenny’s whereabouts.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Ozzie said cheerfully, ‘we won’t.’
‘One thing you should know. He’s holding a torch for Yelena Mayask.’
‘Oh, poor boy. Because it’s not reciprocated. She’s in love with her FSB boyfriend. Does that mean Ivan’s not screaming about his wife joining him over here?’
‘Not a whimper.’
‘That’s rather good news. It’ll save us a fortune.’
Dan went to Ibro and Mirza. ‘Keep him here until he’s collected. And thanks. It was a good job.’
‘No problem.’ Ibro and Mirza shook his hand. ‘Thanks for the money.’
Dan was in his car when his phone rang. Lucy Davies said, ‘Where are you?’
‘On the M1 heading back to London.’
‘Can I suggest you make a diversion to Margate? Irene Cavendish has woken up. She’s just told me a very interesting story about your wife.’
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Jenny stood at the window. Before her stretched a vast sea of snow-covered grass and thistles dotted with clumps of frosted spruce trees and hawthorn. A copse stood to the left, icy branches reaching their bony fingers into a grey sky. On the right stood a low-slung barn and some stables. In between was nothing but snow. Snow as far as her eye could see. No point in running away. She’d only die of exposure.