‘I was posted two weeks ago. Just getting my bearings really. To tell you the truth, it’s a bit of a punishment posting. I seem to have cocked up in my last billet, though nobody’s told me so.’
‘I think I know exactly why. Let’s have a talk, out of hearing distance.’
Ross left half an hour later, looking ashen-faced and queasy. He did not return for five hours. When he did, it was with a doctor and a file of papers.
‘How is Dr Muhammadju?’ he asked.
‘I’m getting very worried about her. If I can’t get her to London soon, she will die.’
‘They have a decent hospital here. Soviet-built. Not very comfy, but the facilities are good.’
David shook his head.
‘If I leave her here, they will find her and they will kill her. Believe me, there are interests involved in this that won’t hesitate for you or the entire Kazakh police force and army combined. I have to get her to London as quickly as possible, that’s the only option.’
From his file, Ross fished out three passports and three airline tickets.
'The tickets will take you to Moscow. There’s a flight in half an hour. I’ve made arrangements for Dr Muhamrnadju to have three seats. There’s a connection an hour after you land at Moscow. That will have you in London in a few hours.
‘The passports are the best I could do. I’ve made Dr Muhammadju your wife. It seemed the best thing.’
David nodded wryly.
‘And Chen?’
‘Hong Kong Chinese with British citizenship, has been living in England for the past two years.’
‘And still doesn’t speak a word of English.’
‘You’d better teach him.’
Ross stood.
'I’d better get back. Since I’m the only intelligence man over here, I don’t need to report much back to my superiors in the embassy. And London, as you say, can find all this out for themselves. But I’m needed for some diplomatic thing in an hour’s time, and I’d sooner not attract attention.’
‘Thanks. Don’t worry. If I can sort things out back home, I’ll make sure you get your choice of postings.’
‘Ask for Rome,’ he said. ‘Or Paris.’
The flight to London passed without incident. Nabila slept the whole way: her condition had stabilized after her brief treatment at Alma-Ata, and for the first time David felt the nightmare of the past few weeks pass away from him. He taught Chen a little English and promised to do what he could to find him a job.
‘What would you like to do? Will you go on flying? I could probably find you a job with a commercial helicopter outfit.’
Chen shook his head decisively.
‘No flying,’ he said. ‘I never wanted to fly in the first place. I actually hate flying.’
‘You do a very good job.’
‘That made it easier. It’s a lot less frightening if you know what you’re doing.’
‘So, what do you want to do, then?’
Chen hesitated, then a wide, mischievous smile crossed his face. He’d been smiling a lot since they got to Alma-Ata.
‘If I’m absolutely honest,’ he said, ‘I’d like to be an entertainer. It’s what I did before I got conscripted.’
‘Really? What sort of entertainer?’
Chen smiled even more widely, and explained. It was then that David realized he had Anthony Farrar in the palm of his hand.
‘Maddie, why don’t you grab a few things and pop them into a bag? Enough for a week or two.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘Up to Scotland. To the loch. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’
‘You can’t go back there. That’s Calum’s aunt’s place.’
‘Show some common sense. That lodge is in the hands of the security services until the case is closed. Which means we can use it when we like. Be a good girl and get your things packed. I’m leaving in half an hour.’
‘I don’t want to leave London.’
‘Why the hell not?’
‘What if Dad comes back? Eh? What if he comes looking for me and I’m not here?’
‘You don’t have to worry about that, Maddie. If he comes home, he’ll go straight to our central office. I’ll leave a message for him, saying where he can find you. How’s that?’
She nodded. Only the cocaine kept her from screaming. She thought he was dead. He hadn’t written since that letter from Kashgar.
‘Maddie, you must be careful. Your father’s on a very dangerous mission. He may not make it back. Do you understand?’
But she just shook her head again. He left her to it, sitting on the bed and shaking her head. He decided to give her another shot of cocaine before they headed north.
The telephone rang. He took the call downstairs. As before, it was preceded by half a minute of outer space.
‘Hello. This is Farrar.’
‘Chang Zhangyi. Are you busy?’
Chen put the phone down. He’d always been especially fond of his impersonation of Colonel Chang Zhangyi, and this had been his finest performance to date.
David grinned and shut off the little tape-recorder. He’d bought it in a shop selling surveillance and industrial espionage equipment, with the assurance that it would make a perfect clandestine recording every time. He wound the tape back and played a few seconds’ worth, then switched it off again.
‘We’ve got him,’ he said. ‘You were brilliant.’
Chen shrugged.
‘Plenty of practice in the pilots’ mess. You should see me do Chairman Mao. What are you going to do with the recordings?’
‘I’m holding on to them for the moment. They’re partial evidence that Farrar had dealings with Chang Zhangyi. We’ll make a couple more calls and see if we can’t get something more explicit.’
They were in David’s old house, in one of the back rooms, where the sun lay on the furniture and dust twisted its way through its soft beams. David looked out on to the garden. He’d not been out there since the day of Sam’s funeral. Even as he looked, he thought he could see the same light and the same shadows on the grass.
He went outside, needing to remember and forget, not knowing how to do either. He walked in the sunshine, astonished by how weak it was. He remembered his father, and the poem they had recited together. It seemed mere words now, and he could no longer capture whatever meanings it had once held for him.
Inside again, he went through the rooms one by one, removing every photograph, large or small, from the walls and various surfaces. As though conjured away, faces disappeared, and he let them go as if for ever. The house felt empty for a while, then full, he did not know what of. Not ghosts, not memories. He wept for it all, and ended by wondering what it was he was weeping for. If nothing else, he was home once more.
She hung somewhere between life and death, like dust in a sunbeam, drifting in a world of light, sleeping and waking, walking only in her dreams. He brushed her cheek and bent down to whisper in her ear. He always said the same things. There were times when he thought she responded, others when he thought he was losing her. Seeing her attached to so many monitors, with dozens of wires and tubes sprouting from her flesh, he could not say that she was the woman he loved.
A doctor arrived, one he’d met earlier. He had bushy eyebrows and a day’s worth of stubble on his chin, and his name was Blennerhassett. He spoke with the softest of Dublin accents, and his eyes were blue and wounded.
‘Is she making any progress, Doctor? Or is this apparatus just keeping her going?’
‘You mean, is she a vegetable? The answer is no. But the answer to your first question is the same as before: it’s too early to say. It would help if I knew more about what happened. Exactly how long elapsed before she received proper treatment?’
David fudged as well as he could. Any mention of China could prove extremely dangerous.
Blennerhassett took David by the arm.
‘Look, Mr ...'
‘Rodgers. Simon Rodgers.’
‘Mr Rodgers, I’
ll be quite frank with you. We’re not unaccustomed to seeing gunshot wounds in here. But two wounds from an automatic weapon raise a lot of questions. I’m under a great deal of pressure to notify the police, but I’d rather hear the whole story from you first.’
‘You will. But not now. I’m going to have to turn the tables here, Doctor. If you or anyone else on your unit does notify the police, they will be jeopardizing national security. That’s a very serious matter, and the consequences could be extremely unpleasant. If it’s any comfort, the people who wounded my wife are far out of the reach of the British or any other police. For the moment, I’d like you to concentrate on getting her well.’
The doctor looked at him blankly. He wasn’t very old, late twenties at the most. David felt it was unfair to place such responsibility on such young shoulders.
‘I’ll do my best,’ he said.
‘Anthony? Is that you?’
‘Of course it is. And who are you? And how’d you get my mobile number?’
But even as he spoke, recognition started to trickle in.
‘Don’t you recognize my voice, Anthony? Don’t you know your ghosts? Your little voices from hell? This is David. David Laing. Don’t you remember me at all?’
There was a very long silence. David wished he could have done this looking into the other man’s eyes.
‘Listen, you ... Whoever you are, you can’t be David Laing. That isn’t possible. He’s dead.’
‘Am I? In that case, what does that make me? An awkward piece of ectoplasm? I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I feel very much alive. A lot more alive than your old chum Chang Zhangyi. You do remember him, don’t you?’
‘Now you are talking nonsense. I spoke to Chang Zhangyi today. He sounded alive and well to me. Or perhaps you’re thinking of some other Chang Zhangyi.’
‘Not really. Listen to this.’
David started the little recorder. He let it play for about one minute, then shut it off again.
‘There’s lots more of that,’ said David. ‘I’ve got it all on microcassettes. They’re not damning in themselves. I’m sure you can afford to hire the sort of lawyers who could prove they were fakes of some kind. But they would start suspicions. The press might get interested. I’d be bound to insist on a full internal investigation. I’d have the whole thing out of your grimy hands within minutes. I know the system as well as you, and you know I wouldn’t hesitate.’
A shorter silence, then Farrar’s voice under perfect control.
‘What is it you want, Laing? Money? Is that it? I don’t think Liz left you anything in her will, did she? You’ll be feeling the need of a little cash before long. And all the time you’re asking yourself, how come that bastard Farrar pulls in these staggering amounts from Chang Zhangyi, while I haven’t two pennies to introduce to the joys of a good rub? Or perhaps it’s even simpler than that, a mere matter of promotion. In either case …’
‘Shut up and listen, Anthony. I want you exposed. Privately, if need be, publicly if possible. You’ve done real damage to this country, and probably to our allies as well. I want you to burn in every hell there is, I want you to squirm for every sin, every little misdeed. I will watch you. I will listen to every word, and I will see to it that there are no evasions.’
‘David, old boy, will you just shut up for a moment? If you can stop being so bloody self-righteous, I’d like to tell you something you should know.’
A longer silence this time, a decided silence. Then a different extension was picked up.
‘David, I think it’s better if I just put someone else on the line. She can explain the rest.’
‘Maddie? Do you mean Maddie?’
Her voice came to him suddenly, muddled by the echo from the other phone. She spoke with a slur, but he would have known her anywhere.
‘Daddy, is that ... you?’
‘Maddie? Yes it’s me. I’m all right. I’m back in England.’
‘Oh, thank … God. When … can I … see you?’
‘As soon as possible. What’s wrong, Maddie? You don’t sound too good. Haven’t you … ?’
The phone was snatched from Maddie. Farrar’s voice came back on the line.
‘You’ll have to continue with your mutual simperings another time. For my part, I’ve got more important things to do than listen to them.’
There was a scream in the background.
‘Farrar, what the hell’s ...‘
‘Listen very carefully, Laing. Your precious daughter is with me. She is at this moment sitting about one foot away from me. In my hand I am holding a P7 pistol. The pistol is about half an inch away from sweetheart’s temple, and I don’t have to tell you what would happen if I were to pull the trigger. I want the tapes, and I want anything else you think you have. By tomorrow. Is that clear?’
‘Perfectly clear.’
‘And remember - try to pull any stunts and you will lose another member of your family. You’ve got yourself into something too big and too dangerous. Don’t try to play with big boys like me, Laing, or you’ll get hurt. And you’ll hurt everybody else you ever cared about. Tomorrow. And don’t make copies.’
CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE
The call from the hospital came just after midnight. David took it, thinking it might be Farrar.
‘Hullo, Mr Rodgers?’
He didn’t recognize the voice at first. Or perhaps, he told himself later, he hadn’t wanted to recognize it.
‘Yes?’
‘This is Patrick Blennerhassett. Your wife’s doctor.’
David felt his heart begin to die. In all his nightmares, it began this way.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I know who you are. It’s very late for you to be ringing. Is something wrong?’
‘Mr Rodgers, I’m afraid ... I’m afraid we’re losing her. She may not last the night. I think you should come over right away.’
‘I’ll be there as soon as I can. Can you keep her alive till then?’
‘Yes, I’m sure I can. But don’t waste any time.’
Nabila had been moved to a private room. The windows on all sides were barred by white Venetian blinds that let thin shafts of light in. Beside her, green lights dimmed and glowed.
‘She’s in a critical condition,’ said Blennerhassett. He looked younger than ever, like a young priest. His eyes were soft and kind.
‘Can you think of anything that might save her?’
The Irishman did not reply directly.
‘She’s been severely traumatized,’ he said. ‘I don’t have to tell you that. Perhaps if … Mr Rodgers, what was your wife doing before she was shot? I ask because she’s in very poor physical shape. She’s weak, dehydrated, even shrunken. And if I’m frank, you’re almost as bad yourself.’
David told him what he could. Not the details, but the heart of the thing. The desert. The spiders. The helicopters circling.
‘Jesus, Mr Rodgers, you tell a grand story. I scarcely know whether to believe you or not. But she’s been weakened by something, and lack of water seems a very plausible mechanism. The trouble is that whatever she went through out there hasn’t made it easy for her to fight back. The one thing I can’t give to her quickly is her strength.’
‘Doctor, I’d give anything to stay here with her, but I have no choice. There are other lives at risk. Will you promise to do all you can? I’ll try to get back in the morning.’
‘You have my word. But try not to stay away too long. She may regain consciousness before the end.’
Maddie was not at Farrar’s house. Nor was Farrar. The house was empty. Of people, of personal effects, of clues. The alarm hadn’t even been set. He hunted high and low, but found nothing. Nothing remained to show that Lizzie had lived there for a while. Farrar must have thrown her possessions out soon after the funeral. Or handed them ceremoniously to the family. David could not even smell a lingering trace of her perfume on the bedroom air. He went back home, despondent. Without an address, he could do nothing. Unless, of course, he just han
ded over the paper as Farrar demanded. He could always hand Farrar in; but that would mean Maddie’s death, which he couldn’t begin to contemplate.
At five to three, the phone rang, waking him from an uncomfortable sleep. He let it ring at first, lacking the courage to pick it up. But it persisted, and in the end he answered.
It was Call Minder, to tell him he had messages waiting. He rang back with his heart in his mouth. A woman’s voice told him he had one message, left at twelve ten, when he was on the phone with Blennerhassett.
'Dad, it’s Maddie. I don’t know if you’ll get this, or when you’ll get it. Look, I don’t have much time, he’s just gone downstairs, but he’ll be back any minute. I think he wants to take me back up to Scotland. It’s not easy to find, but I’ll tell you what to look for when you come home. I suppose you‘re home now, if you‘re listening to this. Have you got a pen and paper?"
CHAPTER NINETY
He took the 6.15 train to Inverness. It would have been much faster to have flown, but that would have meant leaving his guns and other equipment behind. There was no point in going in against someone like Farrar without the right hardware.
He slept and woke, slept and woke. Sometimes he would open his eyes to see dark forest hemming the train in, sometimes he would look up to see mountains or the shimmering surface of a lake. His mobile phone was in his bag, and from time to time he felt an urge to use it, to ring the hospital and be done with it. But he knew that doing so might affect Maddie’s chances, so he let the phone lie where it was.
There were two changes, one in Edinburgh and the other in Perth. A signal failure north of Edinburgh caused two hours’ delay. He arrived just after five, swept along the platform by a crowd of holidaymakers, his gaunt figure and heavy bag marking him out as something different. Parents lifted their children out of his path, and watched him go as though he carried a taint. The station-master knocked his pipe out on to the palm of his hand and shook his head: he knew trouble when he saw it.
He hired a Landrover from a garage in Harbour Road, and drove to the town centre to buy provisions and to eat a proper meal. He wasn’t hungry, but he didn’t know how long he might have to stake out the house. When he finally drove out of town, it was nearly eight. He recited Maddie’s directions like a mantra. At every moment, beneath all other thoughts, he kept imagining the circumstances of Nabila’s death. It had become a reality to him now, a fixed point in his universe, around which everything else would revolve from now on.
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