by Dan Latus
‘Lisa’s English is very good,’ she murmured.
He agreed, but didn’t add anything.
‘Just occasionally she says odd words in another language. What is it?’
He hesitated, but couldn’t withhold the answer. ‘Czech,’ he said.
Then a bit more spilled out.
‘Her mother, my late wife, was killed in a road accident when Lisa was a baby.’
‘Oh? I’m so sorry.’
He shrugged. ‘It was a long time ago.’
‘Czech,’ Ellie said thoughtfully, as if that explained things.
That afternoon, he felt twinges that suggested it wouldn’t always be like this. He might be in limbo at present but awkward questions were starting to push to the surface. He knew they would have to be dealt with eventually, if not quite yet.
Would they still be searching for him? That was one.
Could he really stay here indefinitely, undetected? That was another.
And what about his former colleagues? Was he really going to allow their deaths to go unexplained and unavenged?
In the end, though, it was Lisa who broke through the tranquillity of their surface life.
‘Daddy, when will we see Babi?’ she asked.
That brought home to him that there was still a world, a life, outside the village. And there were things he needed to do. They couldn’t be neglected forever. Not really.
‘I must go away for a little while,’ he told Ellie.
She rolled over and stared at him.
‘For a few days,’ he added. ‘A week maybe.’
‘Will you come back?’
‘Of course I will! But I can’t take Lisa. Will you look after her until I get back?’
‘I’d love to.’ She hesitated and repeated, ‘You will come back for her?’
‘I’ll come back for you both.’
She smiled up at him. ‘You don’t have to say that, Harry.’
‘I mean it,’ he insisted, hoping it was a promise he would be able to keep.
She studied him, the smile gone now. ‘You do mean it, don’t you?’
He nodded. ‘Very much.’
‘I don’t suppose you can tell me where you’re going?’
He shook his head. ‘Not now, not yet. But when it’s over I will.’
She sat up, saying, ‘So it is dangerous? There’s trouble of some sort?’
He sighed and shrugged. ‘Yes, unfortunately. I must try to sort it out.’
‘Back there – wherever you and Lisa came from?’
He nodded. ‘Ellie, you’ll have to trust me. I can’t talk about it now. It’s not a criminal matter, though. I can set your mind at rest on that score.’
She looked away. He could sense her weighing up his words.
‘The trouble,’ he added, ‘is to do with my job, the work I’ve done for many years. That’s finished now. But I still need to deal with certain issues that remain.’
‘I don’t understand any of this,’ she said slowly. ‘But I trust you. Perhaps I’m being naïve, but I do. What about afterwards, though?’
‘I will come back here,’ he explained patiently. ‘We’ll make a life together, if that’s what you want. It is what we want, Lisa and I.’
‘Me, too. Take care, Harry Gibson,’ she said softly, leaning down to kiss him. ‘And mean what you say.’
He did mean it. He just hoped he could do what he had promised.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Back in Prague, not much had changed. The temperature was a couple of degrees below freezing and snow lay all around, much of it pretty dirty and sometimes slushy on the roads. The other thing that hadn’t changed, Harry acknowledged, was that he still knew next to nothing about what was going on here.
An unwelcome extra problem now was his slight uncertainty, suspicion if you like, about Lenka, and what she and her colleagues knew. More than him, that was for sure. But he had to swallow that. She had helped him. Nobody else had.
He still had his keys to Jan Klaus’s place but he couldn’t use them. Something had happened there, something bad. Although he had no idea what it was, he couldn’t rule out the possibility that it was connected to his own recent presence there. So instead, he found accommodation in a small establishment not far away that advertised itself as a ‘boutique hotel’. He had never been in one of them before, but it didn’t seem much different from any other small hotel.
Late afternoon, the light fading fast, he stood near the window of his room and looked out across the rooftops of this mysterious city he had come to know so well. It was a kind of homecoming. He wasn’t at peace here now – how could he be? – but the familiarity of it was in a strange way settling. Here, at least, he had few illusions and knew what to expect. He knew how things worked.
The journey had left him tired, but nervous energy was keeping him going, and he had things to do. First he phoned Babička.
‘Babi?’
‘Oh, Mr Harry!’
‘You are well, Babi?’
‘Yes, yes! Of course. How is…?’
‘Also well, thank you. Well and happy. I just wanted you to know that. Later, Babi, I will come to see you, but not now. Now is difficult.’
‘Thank you for letting me know. I understand.’
Understand? He doubted it, he thought with a wry smile after he had switched the phone off. She was just very good, very patient, and always had been.
Next, he tapped his fingers on the window ledge for a few moments, making up his mind. Then he rang Lenka. He couldn’t start distrusting her now, all because she hadn’t told him she had seen a photograph of Lisa.
‘I’m back,’ he said. ‘Can you talk?’
‘Oh, hello! Not at the moment, thank you, but it is good of you to call. I’ll let you know.’
He switched off and shook his head. How nice it must be to have a phone conversation that was straightforward and without danger to anyone. He wondered if that day would ever come for him.
A few minutes later, his phone vibrated and buzzed. He glanced at the screen and switched on.
‘Where are you?’
He gave her his new address.
‘I’ll come to you when I can,’ she said.
He switched off. Lenka, he had to remember, had another life, and in that life she had a job and did work for which she got paid. She needed that job. He should remember that.
It was an hour later that she arrived, tapping gently on his door. He smiled a welcome and gave her a hug.
‘You got her out all right?’ Lenka asked.
‘Yes. She’s somewhere safe now. Don’t worry.’
‘In England?’
He nodded.
‘Thank goodness! I worried about her so much.’
‘Sit down, Lenka. I was just about to make some coffee. Will you have some?’
‘Thank you, yes.’
She flopped onto the bed, looking as tired as he felt. The life they led wasn’t an easy one, he thought ruefully.
‘Those men,’ she said, sitting up. ‘Jackson and Murphy, you said they were called?’
‘That’s right.’ He emptied the sachets of coffee into two mugs and waited until the kettle switched itself off. ‘What about them?’
‘The car they were driving – the Jaguar?’
He nodded and poured the hot water into the mugs. ‘Milk?’ he asked, inspecting the sachets with suspicion.
‘No, thank you.’
He sniffed and decided to have his black, as well.
‘Thank you.’ Lenka reached for her mug. ‘It was registered with the British Embassy – CD plates, and everything.’
‘Now there’s a surprise,’ he said with a chuckle devoid of any hint of amusement. ‘Who’d have thought it?’
‘Not very clever, was it?’
He shook his head. ‘They must have trouble getting the staff these days. So how did they play it, when the police wanted to know what the hell was going on?’
Lenka squinted at him as she sipped her near-bo
iling coffee and grimaced.
‘They claimed they were under attack by armed terrorists who had ambushed them. Their car had been immobilized and they were being fired on. They had to get out of the car and shoot back to defend themselves.’
‘Sounds reasonable.’ He shrugged. ‘Did the police buy it?’
‘The real police, you mean? Not entirely, no. They were concerned at bystander reports of a young girl being involved. They are investigating the possibility of Jackson and Murphy being involved in child smuggling. The Embassy, of course, is claiming that is outrageous.’
‘As they would.’ He nodded appreciatively. ‘Anything else?’
‘Not really. Some kind of talks are still going on between the Brits and the Ivans, but we’re not in the loop. Perhaps you were right about the gas crisis.’
‘Nothing on Unit 89?’
She shook her head. ‘So what do you want to do now?’
He sat down on a chair, facing her. ‘I can’t just leave it, Lenka. They’re probably still looking for me. Jackson and Murphy, or whoever. Eventually my luck will run out and they’ll find me. And Lisa, of course. Besides, I have a duty to my colleagues. I owe it to them at least to find out what the hell has been going on.’
She nodded, and then she yawned.
‘Sorry, Harry!’ She hurriedly clasped a hand to her mouth. ‘I need some sleep.’
‘Of course you do.’
They sat in silence for a little while and sipped their coffee. He could hear nothing of the world outside. The snow must have cleared Charles Bridge of tourists. Nothing else would have done it.
‘What about Jan Klaus?’ he asked, a little surprised Lenka had not already brought the subject up.
She sighed and gave a shrug; despair, the message.
‘He was shot, and killed. Two men came to the restaurant. They questioned him about the guests in the rooms above. Then they had him take them upstairs to see for themselves.
‘The staff say that was the last they saw of Jan alive. When someone went upstairs later to look for him, they found him dead. The two men were gone.’
‘No one heard a gunshot?’
She shook her head. ‘Whoever killed him used a silencer.’
Harry nodded. It all made depressingly familiar sense.
‘Where was the body?’ he asked.
‘In your room,’ she said bleakly. ‘From witness descriptions, the two men sounded like Jackson and Murphy.’
He grimaced. ‘I’m sorry. Poor man. So they are still hunting for me?’ he added.
‘I am afraid so. Harry, Jan was a very old friend. You have brought a lot of trouble to this city.’
He looked at her sharply. ‘Not me, babe. I ’m an innocent bystander, remember?’
She didn’t reply. Instead, she got up to go. She was upset.
‘Don’t go, Lenka. Not like this.’
An idea had come to mind. He thought it through, and hesitated, but he had to do something and he could think of nothing better.
‘I’m going to phone the embassy,’ he said. ‘I’m going to make contact. It’s no good waiting for them to come to me. I can’t hide forever.’
She stared at him. ‘What do you have in mind?’
‘Throwing a rock into the pool,’ he said with a grim smile. ‘I want to see how the ripples spread.’
To the switchboard receptionist at the British Embassy, he said, ‘I have important information regarding the embassy car that was trashed in Vyšehrad a few days ago. I want to speak to someone who might be interested.’
‘May I have your name, sir?’
‘Not at this stage. Just find someone for me to speak to about the incident.’
‘One moment, please, sir.’
He waited patiently. He could imagine the scene at the other end. People coming to the end of a long day, anxious to get home before the temperature plummeted and the weather closed in again. Then some crackpot phones when the people who matter have already left the building. Where’s the duty officer?
‘Can I help you?’
‘One of your cars was involved in an incident the other day in Vyšehrad. A black Jaguar? I was there, and I need to speak to whoever is investigating.’
‘An incident, you say?’
‘An ambush,’ he said, throwing caution to the wind. ‘We exchanged gunfire.’
To hell with pussyfooting about. Let him pick the pips out of that one!
‘Ah!’
‘My name is Mr Black. I will phone again in exactly ten minutes, and announce my name to the switchboard. I expect to be put through to a competent officer then.’
He switched off.
‘Interesting,’ Lenka murmured. ‘What is that English phrase? A bull in a china shop?’
He wasn’t amused. ‘Exactly. I need to make progress.’
‘We need to make progress, Harry.’
He looked at her, wondering. ‘You’re still with me?’
‘Of course.’
He nodded. They sat in silence then and concentrated on their coffee.
‘It’s Mr Black.’
‘One moment, please, sir.’
A new voice took up the challenge. This was an older, more experienced – presumably more senior – person.
‘Mr Black?’
‘Yes.’
‘I understand you have knowledge of an incident in Vyšehrad the other day?’
‘I do, indeed. Are you the right person for me to be talking to?’
‘Regrettably, no. The person you need to speak to is not actually here at the moment. Can we phone you back?’
He chuckled. ‘I don’t think so, do you?’
‘Quite.’
The voice was not at all fazed, indeed was prepared for all eventualities.
‘In that case,’ it said now, ‘I can give you a telephone number where you can reach the appropriate person. Do you have a pen handy?’
He smiled. Diplomats’ games! Avoid being caught holding the parcel when the music stops. And pass the parcel on to someone you don’t know, have never met, and who can never again be found or traced.
He wrote down the number and switched off the phone.
‘We’re getting somewhere,’ he said.
‘To someone you know?’
‘Probably not, no. They wouldn’t be that daft.’
On the other hand, he thought, why not? If they wanted to cancel his contract, why not set him up with a familiar name or face, one he thought he could trust?
‘Be careful, Harry.’
He smiled and nodded.
The phone was answered immediately when he called the number he had been given.
‘It’s Mr Black. I believe you’re expecting me?’
‘Ah, yes! Mr Black. Good evening.’
It was a sharp, crisp voice, a no-nonsense, modern kind of voice. There was authority behind it, too. Not, then, one of the old brigade, Harry thought. Not a relic from gentlemen’s-club land.
‘I understand you have some information that may be of interest to me?’
‘It’s possible.’
‘What kind of information?’
‘I was there, at the time. I ambushed the car. That good enough for you?’
‘Yes, indeed.’ Short pause, then: ‘Is it possible that you are the gentleman we have been seeking?’
‘Seeking? Trying to eliminate more like it! I want to know why.’
He could picture the expression of concern and anguish at the other end of the line. Already things had been mentioned that normally would not be.
‘Then we need to meet,’ the voice said briskly. ‘I can tell you now mistakes have been made. Instructions have been misinterpreted, indeed wilfully exceeded. I need to explain all this to you – and to apologize in person.’
Harry frowned. There was something about the voice, something familiar.
‘Do I know you? Have we met?’
‘I don’t think so.’
He toyed with the idea of tossing names onto the
table, and blowing trade craft out of the window. But he knew the guy would probably just switch off if he tried that.
‘We can’t really discuss these matters now, Mr Black. I’m sure you know why. We need to meet.’
‘Where would you suggest?’
He was given an address in the Old Town. It wasn’t a place he knew. But at least it wasn’t in the centre of Charles Bridge at midnight, and he didn’t have to carry a copy of The Times folded under his arm. Definitely not Old School.
‘Will you go?’ Lenka asked afterwards.
‘I must. If I don’t, how am I ever to get any answers, or have any chance of getting out of this?
‘Backup would be good,’ he added, looking at her.
She nodded. ‘Of course. How long have we got?’
‘He wants to meet at nine.’ He glanced at his watch and added, ‘In two hours’ time.’
‘I’ll go now,’ Lenka said, getting to her feet. ‘Be careful,’ she added. ‘Remember this may not be what you hope.’
He sat down and switched on the television. It wasn’t that he had time to kill; it was more that he needed to turn his mind to something else for a while.
A news programme was running. He watched footage of snow ploughs in the Moravian Highlands and people skiing in the Krkonoše. In Eastern Bohemia, a train was caught in an avalanche that had swept across the line. A couple of hundred people were left stranded.
It was colder, much colder, in Russia and Ukraine, where temperatures were down to -30c, and even lower in places. In Poland, too. But the common experience and suffering wasn’t stopping yet another round of angry negotiations about gas prices, with Russia threatening once again to reduce supplies in the pipeline running through its neighbour, Ukraine.
Western Europe was a bit chaotic, apparently, with some major transport arteries blocked by snow or chains of accidents. In the UK it wasn’t too bad. Cold for there, but nothing like most of Europe.
The main worry in the UK was the security of energy supplies, especially of gas. Once again, he heard, the country was not well placed, being at the end of the supply line and having little in the way of storage capacity. And, unlike France, the UK had turned its back on nuclear energy many years ago. Library film of wind generators on hills and in the sea suggested the main sources of alternative energy, but their contribution to the national energy supply was pitiful.