Murder By Umbrella: (Passion) (The Nikki Sinclair Quartet Book 1)

by Jaye Rothman

  I forced myself to carry on interrogating her. “Here’s the thing, Eva. I know you’re not a native Czech speaker. Yes, you can speak it extremely well. I expect you lived there, didn’t you?” I ploughed on, ignoring the distress written on her face.

  “Last night, you didn’t finish the proverb about the boiling pot. A small point, but it gave you away.” There was a slight tremor in her right hand.

  Eva started to cry. “I was being blackmailed. I had no choice. You must help me.”

  I repeated my earlier question. “Are you working for the KGB?”

  She nodded, and I felt a pang of sympathy for her. There were no choices in Eastern Bloc countries.

  “My lover gave me up. She turned me in. So much for everlasting love,” Eva said this with bitterness. “So I was offered a way out, a one-way ticket. I had to pretend to defect and in return send back reports on the progress of the development of the toxins.”

  “Who did you report to here?”

  “Polakoff. He told me that he might have to leave unexpectedly. Then I would have to liaise with the Professor, until a replacement could be positioned in the facility.” She gnawed her lip. “What’s going to happen to me?”

  “You have two choices. The first one is that we send you back. To be honest, I don’t know how long you’d last. Not many defectors are sent back without a trade. We would expose you as a KGB spy and your picture would be on the front of all the newspapers, with maybe a hint of scandal as well.”

  I loathed and detested myself. How could I threaten to expose another lesbian? What kind of woman had I become?

  Eva had turned white and she wrung her hands.

  “Nikki, would you do that to me? After we made love like that? Oh no… How could you hurt me?”

  A torrent of scalding tears flowed from her eyes, and her shoulders heaved. “No, I love you. Please.”

  I needed all my resolve and courage to continue. I didn’t recognise my own voice.

  “The second is that you stay in the UK, work for us and feed Intel back to your masters.”

  She gasped with horror. “A double agent?”

  “Yes, but at least you’d be safe and free.”

  Eva looked at me with an expression of disbelief. “I’ll never be either. You and I both know that. When the KGB find out, they’ll send someone to kill me.” She wiped her eyes. “I need a drink. Do you want one?”

  She opened the cupboard, and in a split second she was pointing a Makarov pistol at me. It was the standard gun for the KGB.

  Eva was seven feet away. I had no chance against her. I would have to talk her down and play for time. I didn’t want to kill her. The thought of killing another woman, especially my lover, filled me with despair and dread.

  “Don’t move,” she said evenly. “Take your gun out very slowly and put it on the table. Don’t try anything.”

  I took my Beretta out and placed it on the table.

  “Push it over here.” Eva said this in Russian. “Yes, Nikki, let’s speak in Russian. I know you speak it fluently.”

  “I don’t speak Russian.”

  “Don’t lie. You wouldn’t be a senior officer in MI6 if you didn’t speak it. I guess you perfected it when you babysat those traitors three years ago. It was in Buckinghamshire. Am I right?”

  How did she know that? Regardless, she had just confirmed my most deeply held suspicions that there was a mole in MI6.

  “Nothing to say, Nikki?”

  She flicked the safety catch off and held the gun steady, aimed at my heart. I thought about launching an attack, but I was too far away. She would shoot me before I’d moved.

  Eva gave a brittle laugh. “Do you really think I was being blackmailed? No, I’m here to replace Polakoff, who unfortunately has become a little too Western for Moscow’s tastes. He was getting careless, spending too much time in a casino in London. The temptations of the West, I guess! We knew that sooner or later MI5 would find out and blackmail him.”

  Eva stood still with her weapon pointed steadily at me. Her eyes were vigilant and watchful.

  “So the Reynolds outlived their usefulness,” she continued. “Mester and Maksimov had no loyalty to Moscow. Mester detested the Communist system and, as for Maksimov, all he cared about was his beloved Israel. I think you’ll agree we were quite clever with him. He actually thought he was providing the Mossad with Intel. We set up an office in Harley Street. Maksimov would arrive dutifully every month with the latest reports from the facility. As for Mester, his girlfriend contacted the Military Police – and sealed his fate.”

  Eva’s attention had started to wander; she had started to scan the room. With difficulty, she regained her focus. “What was I saying? Ah yes. Maksimov was getting nervous, and he demanded to be extracted to Israel. Both of them had served their purpose, so with the tip of an umbrella, they were dispatched.”

  My throat was dry as sandpaper. My breathing was ragged, but I had to play for time and get her to relax her guard.

  “Dispatched? You murdered them?”

  “I didn’t.” Eva replied angrily. “It was Polakoff.”

  “I need a cigarette, OK?” She nodded and I slowly took the packet out of my jacket with my lighter. “Do you want one?”

  “I’m not going to fall for that old trick.”

  “I’ll take that as no, then. What about the Professor?”

  “He’s obsessed with the Soviet Union. Stupid man, he wants to live there. The Professor is a dyed-in-the-wool Communist, and he would do anything to help the cause. As for Bryant, he’s not KGB. He’s not smart enough, but he took orders from the Professor, so it was easy to control him.”

  “Yerzov? Was he working for the KGB?”

  “He’s a rapist. Did you know he served four years in a Soviet prison for raping a student? I tried to warn you, darling. He was released from gaol, and the condition was that he defected and worked as muscle for the KGB. The man is disgusting, but he served his purpose.”

  “So you didn’t order him to attack me?”

  “Oh, no Nikki, I wouldn’t do that. No, no. Never.”

  Eva’s distress appeared real, but what did I know?

  “I think it was Bryant and one of the guards. Bryant had seen how we looked at each other. He was jealous of you. He wanted me to sleep with him again.”

  I didn’t want to ask her, but I had to find out. “Eva, what about us? I know you didn’t fake it in bed.”

  Eva’s eyes softened for a moment, and her gun moved a few inches away from my heart.

  “No, I didn’t fake it. How could I? Nikki, it was wonderful with you. I loved it. If we were in a different place or time, who knows? But we’re not, so I’m sorry, because I really liked you. No, that’s not true. I’ve fallen in love with you.” With that, Eva raised her gun. “But if I don’t follow orders, my fate will be in the gulag.” A Russian labour camp.

  I had to take a chance. I walked slowly towards her.

  “Stay back, Nikki, or I’ll shoot!”

  Eva was about three feet away; I didn’t want to kill her. I wanted to go to bed with her and feel her writhe underneath me. It must have been the adrenaline coursing through my body. I was closing on her as I spoke.

  “Eva, you can’t escape. The cottage is surrounded by soldiers. If you kill me, they’ll come in and shoot you. So put your weapon down.”

  I was within two feet of her. I could see she was wavering.

  “We can be together, Eva. Don’t throw it away.”

  “I know you’re lying to me. You can never be with me. I’m tainted goods now,” she said heavily.

  “Do you really want to go back to the Soviet Union?”

  “What alternative do I have?”

  “You’ll be provided with a new identity.”

  “I’ll be able to stay in England?” I could see from her eyes that she already had made her decision.

  “It’s hell on earth being a lesbian in the Eastern Bloc. I’ve had to be so careful, sleep wit
h men I loathed to preserve my cover. When I was given this assignment, I couldn’t believe my luck. But everything has a price, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “What choice do I have? I don’t have any. What a price I’ll have to pay, because I love women. I can never see my country, my friends, my parents again because I’m a lesbian. I’m not sick, perverted or disgusting because I choose to sleep with women. How is this fair?”

  “It’s not, Eva. Unfortunately, that is how the world perceives us. It may change, but I don’t think it will in our lifetimes.”

  Eva voice trembled. “Nikki, I can’t go back. I can’t live a lie anymore. I can’t go back there. It’ll be impossible for me to sleep with a man after you. You’ve ruined me, Nikki.”

  Tears were running down her face. I couldn’t leave her standing there in misery and distress. Gently I took the gun from her hand and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. Racking sobs resounded through her body as I held her tightly. Two days ago I had turned to her, and she had loved, soothed, consoled and restored me. Now our positions had been reversed. I should do the same for her but, I reasoned, it was impossible because she was a Soviet spy and the enemy now.

  “I have to go, Eva,” I said finally.

  “Oh no, Nikki. Please. You can’t. I love you. Please Nikki, don’t leave me. You can’t just walk out of my life.” Eva’s voice cracked as she clung tightly to me.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to go. You’ll be in safe hands,” I whispered, as I bit down hard on my lip in an attempt to stop the tears that unexpectedly welled in my eyes.

  “Safe hands? Oh Nikki, please, I know what that means. I need to be with you. Let me be with you. I love you. If you want me to, I’ll get down on my knees, if that’s what it takes for you to stay with me.” Eva had grabbed hold of my jacket, and I had to prise her fingers from it. “Please, you can’t… I’m begging you… I’ll do anything, anything, Nikki…”

  Self-preservation prevailed as I stepped half a pace backwards and walked away. To my everlasting and eternal shame, I never looked round.

  CHAPTER 8

  EPILOGUE

  A week later Lonnie and I were sitting in our local pub, The Flying Dutchman. It was a ten-minute walk from Broadway, located down a side street, and it wasn’t favoured by our colleagues as it wasn’t upmarket enough. It was one of the last pubs in the area not to be gentrified. The swirl of noise from the after-work crowd had become increasingly louder as more liquor was consumed; it was Thursday and payday. By nine o’clock the pub would empty out, the patrons heading homewards on their buses and tubes to suburbia.

  Lonnie lowered his voice and came straight to the point. “You were sleeping with Eva, weren’t you?” He said this in a non-judgmental manner, as if he were stating a fact.

  Lonnie had known about my sexuality since 1973, and he knew that Dvora had been responsible for tearing my heart to shreds.

  I pinched both sides of my nose, because I didn’t want to cry. Damn it, I was not going to cry.

  “Yes, Lonnie.” I decided to tell him the truth. “I slept with her. She told me everything I wanted to hear. I’m so stupid. I never learn. I’m so sick and tired of being alone and I thought that this time I had found someone who…” My eyes brimmed with tears, and my voice faltered. “Why can’t I learn my fucking lesson?”

  Lonnie flicked the ash from his cigarette. He had stayed behind and secured Eva’s cottage, and had found the toxin and the formula in her fridge. Apparently they hadn’t been hidden, and the toxin itself was carefully sealed and labelled. Not quite meeting my gaze, he ventured, “Didn’t you think that there was something odd about Eva?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, she didn’t put up much of a resistance. It was … I don’t know… like...” Lonnie took a sip from his pint as he searched for words. “Eva actually seemed relieved it was all over. She didn’t seem at all concerned that she had been unmasked as a KGB spy.” Now Lonnie had my full attention. Normally defectors were emotional and frightened, and usually they pleaded for a safe house.

  “Eva wasn’t led away in handcuffs, or escorted to Salisbury by Special Branch. Fiona Menzies arrived within the hour in a chauffeur-driven car, and Eva left with her, but not under close guard.”

  “That’s strange. I wonder where they’ve hidden her.” Menzies had worked at MI6 until a year ago, when she’d left to head a government anti-corruption unit.

  Lonnie laid a hand on my shoulder. “Did Eva tell you she was in love with you?” he asked gently.

  “Yeah. Yes, she did. She played me so well, like a virtuoso, and I can’t stop thinking about her…” I looked down at the table and stopped talking. What was the fucking point?

  “Nikki, do you know that CJ likes you?” He paused. “When you were in Egypt, every day she would ask me if you were OK. That was it. She asked nothing else, but just if you were alright.”

  “Yes, she likes me in bed, alright, but that’s it.” I was shocked at my own candour.

  Lonnie didn’t miss a beat. “No. It’s way more than that. Trust me.”

  “Really? Do you think so?” Why didn’t this news cause me to punch the air with joy or buy a celebratory round of drinks? Probably because I was thinking about how could I locate Eva.

  “You don’t seem very excited.”

  With an effort, I smiled. “It’s nice to hear.”

  I lit another Rothmans and pondered Lonnie’s news that CJ viewed me as relationship material. It was flattering, and not surprising but not what I needed or wanted to hear.

  “Lonnie, I need to find out where Eva is.” I sipped my Johnnie Walker and didn’t dare look at him.

  “Nikki, are you insane?” Lonnie’s voice had risen and taken on an irritated edge. “She’s under wraps. There’s no way you should think about contacting her.”

  “I know, but I … I mean, we had some unfinished business.”

  “Then leave it unfinished. Don’t go there. Not after what happened in Berlin.”

  I nodded. Berlin had not been my finest hour, as I had become over-involved with someone I had recruited. She had been relocated to a city in England, with a new identity, but I’d wanted to continue the relationship and had tracked her down, and in doing so I had put her safety at risk. I had been warned that if it happened again, I would be stood down permanently as a field agent.

  “You’re right as usual, Lonnie.” I sighed and tapped his glass. “Another?”

  CHAPTER 9

  CONCLUSIONS

  CJ made a good recovery after spending a week in hospital and three weeks in the rehabilitation centre in Surrey. It was thought prudent that I should be re-evaluated after Egypt, and I had spent five days there undergoing a battery of psychological tests, followed by a very comprehensive debriefing by Dr Brown, the unit’s psychologist.

  CJ had been correct in her diagnosis that I was suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and Dr Brown had strongly recommended that I return to light duties in the field. This meant counter-surveillance only. At the rehabilitation centre we were not permitted to fraternise with other agents during our evaluations. So, on the fourth night, when everyone was supposed to be sleeping, I had sneaked into CJ’s room and stood at the foot of her bed, watching her sleeping and wondering if we could have a life together. She didn’t stir, and I couldn’t help but think how similar our circumstances were. We were both totally alone in the world, without the support of family or close friends. Once, when I had tentatively enquired about her parents, CJ had become tearful, and I had quickly changed the subject.

  After I was discharged, I had been CJ’s most faithful visitor, driving to see her on alternate days and keeping her updated about the Norton affair, as it was known at Broadway.

  The press had a field day. The newspapers were packed with juicy gossip, mostly fabricated, about a deranged scientist who had murdered a professor, and a mother and daughter in a secret facility in Sussex. Fortuitously the scientist had
turned the gun on himself. Questions were raised in Parliament and, behind closed doors in the Cabinet, the decision was made to close the facility. It had served its purpose and was now notorious. It was also decided that the development of nerve toxin would continue, but on a smaller scale, and in a government facility. Rumour had it that the new location was Salisbury Down, but I couldn’t confirm or deny that.

  I obsessed over what had happened to Eva. I constantly replayed our last moments together: she had begged me not to leave her, and I had callously walked away. What would have happened if I’d stayed with her and negotiated a way to help her? I had tried to find her on my own, as I knew I would, but had turned up nothing. Every avenue I had tried was closed to me. In desperation, I had pleaded with Manning to help me. Eventually he had discovered through his contacts that Eva was in Scotland. She had been detained and interrogated. Although Eva had given us valuable Intel, it wasn’t by any means exceptional. After they were done with her, the DG had intervened, and Eva was already working on another Top Secret project. She was too valuable an asset to be consigned to a backwater in suburbia.

  Finally, the day arrived when CJ was ready to be discharged. I collected her from Surrey, and she thought I was driving her home. I knew she was dreading returning to the drab single bedsit off the Camden Road, so when we parked outside my apartment in a tree-lined street in North London, she couldn’t contain her relief and happiness. In the middle of the pavement, where all the neighbours and passersby could see us, she shrieked and threw her arms around me.

  And just like that, for the first time in my life I had a live-in girlfriend. Sometimes I couldn’t quite believe it. My one-night stands had been consigned to the past. The crippling loneliness had ceased, solitary dinners were a distant memory, my love affair with Johnnie Walker had diminished, and the nightmares that I had endured for years were slowly ebbing away. I had someone to share my life with.

  Was I happy?

  I wish with all my heart I could have said yes, but no, I wasn’t.

  THE DISHONOURABLE SPY