Murder at Canary Wharf (The Ralph Chalmers Mysteries Book 8)
Page 16
“It’s no longer KGB, Sir. They were disbanded in 1991. Now it’s FSB. It’s their Federal Security Service and they also have a Foreign Intelligence Service. A bit like our MI5 and MI6.”
Sir Arthur gave a despairing look at his junior and then turned and looked closely at Ralph.
“Well Professor I expect that you will want to get home after all of this.”
“Just about, Sir.”
“Quite right. We have taken the liberty of obtaining some papers that will get you out of Russia. Mr Jenkins here will fill you in on the details. And you will need some cash. We have put some sterling and roubles in your wallet along with your new passport. If we could just get your signature so we have a receipt? Taxpayer’s money, you understand,” he smiled.
“I’m afraid we’ve had to prepare the documents under a different name for the time being as the police and custom’s chaps will be looking for you at the airport. We’ve booked you on a flight today with BA. One of our chaps will meet you at Heathrow and I’m afraid you’ll need to go straight to Scotland Yard. It’s a bit of a bother, I know, but I expect that they will just want to clear up some paperwork and then you will no doubt be glad to get back to your family and loved ones.” He stood up and wished Ralph a safe and pleasant journey home. Jenkins practically genuflected as his boss walked out of the room.
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Chapter 12
Ralph only relaxed when the pilot requested ‘doors to manual’ and the steward walked past checking that everyone was strapped in and cell phones switched off. He dozed off and only awoke as the announcement was made that they were starting the descent towards London and the pilot and crew wished everyone a pleasant visit and thanked them for flying BA. He looked out of the window and smiled as he saw the familiar silver ribbon of the Thames and the Houses of Parliament before the urban sprawl around Heathrow flashed by. They touched down and he was home. The passport in the name of Robin Watson amused him. He hoped that he would be allowed to keep it as a souvenir.
The meeting with Commander Renton was brief. He apologised for the formality and said that he had to close some loops. Ralph told him what had happened and his suspicions about Alex Shevchenko.
“It seems that we were wrong. I suspect that the story he gave you about money laundering may have been a cover. Among other things, he was likely using the ship to get his colleagues from the FSB into different countries. He also managed to dupe those two on the Dar Mlodziezy as well as yourself, sir.”
Renton asked some more questions about how Ralph had left the country and how he had met Shevchenko at Exeter and if he thought that Marian Watts was involved in any way. Ralph assured him that Marian was just a friend of Shevchenko’s and could not possibly be aware that he was with the Russians.
“Do you think he was involved with ISIS and the deaths of those two students, Commander?”
Renton looked at a file on his desk. “Well some things are best left unsaid, sir. Suffice it to say that we have a special task force looking into any possible involvement of foreign interests with terrorist activities in this country. It may take months, or even years, but we will eventually find out who killed those two young students. We have identified known terrorist cells in cities across the country, and now we have the task of bringing them to trial. The Human Rights Lawyers come out of the woodwork in these cases. We pay a high price for living in a democracy, as I’m sure you know.”
“Anything more about Brandt Kessler and Owen James?”
“Again, all that I’m at liberty to say is that witnesses have come forward and prosecutions are in the process of being finalised. We have already made two arrests. That was reported in the papers at the weekend.”
Renton then made what Ralph realised was the closest that the busy officer had ever come to making small talk. He asked about Ralph’s car and if he had any plans to go sailing in Devon, which the Commander confided was his favourite county. At the earliest opportunity Ralph made his excuses.
“Well thanks once again, sir.” Commander Renton stood up to shake Ralph’s hand. “Oh, and I know we have visited this before, Professor Chalmers, although we don’t expect to see or hear from our Mr Shevchenko, but if by chance he does make contact, then we would appreciate it if you could let us know.”
“I will, of course. But I expect that as I’m no longer of use he will not be looking me up.”
“Well then life should be pretty quiet in Surbiton, Professor. I wish I could say the same for London.” The Commander had eased the clumsy remark and for a brief moment became almost human.
Ralph had to walk to Westminster before he managed to flag down a taxi. As the cab pulled alongside and he heard that familiar cockney accent, he wondered what Jimmy and Bob were up to. He resolved to go to White Hart Lane one Saturday and look out for his two friends.
“Chelsea Mews. Just past the Spread Eagle,” Ralph leaned through the window and told the driver.
He climbed in as the taxi did a wide turn and headed off through the busy traffic along the embankment. He suddenly realised that he had not called Katie. He wondered if she would be at home. He had a key and could always surprise her. Perhaps get a bottle of champagne and order a takeaway. He felt himself beginning to smile.
“Been away, sir?”
“Just for the weekend.”
“Nice. You missed all the fuss, then. Bus strike and baggage handlers out at Gatwick.”
“Glad I was away,” Ralph replied as he sat back against the soft cushioned seat.
Katie was at home preparing some conference notes when he rang the bell. It was a warm welcome as Katie kept giving him hug after hug.
“My god Ralph, you look like you’ve just been dragged in by the cat. What happened? Are you hurt?”
“No. Just a bit tired. I only got in to Heathrow this morning and they rushed me off to see Renton at Scotland Yard.”
Ralph sank into his favourite chintz covered armchair.
“Where on earth did you get that suit?” Katie laughed. “You look like a Jehovah’s witness. No, I take that back, more like a bank manager from a 1930’s film.”
He struggled up and took the jacket off. “They gave it to me at the Embassy.”
“They must have seen you coming, Ralph. They’d probably been trying to unload it on some poor unsuspecting soul for decades.” she laughed as she picked up the jacket and folded it over the back of a chair.
He gave her an outline of what had happened. She was surprised when she heard about Alex.
“Look why don’t you get changed. Then tonight if you’re up to it we can go around to that little Greek place down the street or if you’d rather, I can just make us a couple of omelettes.”
“Omelettes sound good.” He had to admit that he was a bit tired.
“I’m glad you’re back safe and sound. You can tell me all about it when you’ve had a chance to unwind.” She gave him another hug and then went to make some tea and toast. When she got back he was fast asleep.
It was not until later that evening that Ralph really began to relax. Katie knew that when they had been apart it always took Ralph a while to become what she called normal. The real Ralph Chalmers and not the high octane, uptight and controlled persona that given half a chance he would easily become.
“So what do you think about Alex and Marian?” Ralph asked. “What will we say when she calls?”
“She won’t call. Well not for a while.”
“How do you know?”
“I spoke to her yesterday. I was going to tell you.”
“About Alex? Has he called her?”
“No. But when he left and she was tidying up, she came across a photo in his suit pocket.”
“And?”
“Well it seems that our Alex already has a wife. He’s married.”
“But how could she know that from a photo?”
“The next day Marian phoned the University at Kiev and identified herself as one of Alex’s doctoral stu
dents. It seems that Professor Alex Shevchenko and his wife Professor Svetlana Shevchenko are on sabbatical. They’re working on a research project in the Republic of Georgia. It’s amazing what these secretaries will divulge to a complete stranger.”
She waited a few minutes before she spoke again.
“So how about a long weekend at our cottage in Devon? Our lady Doctor won’t be back in residence for another two weeks, so the place is empty. We could go down to that pub on the cliffs and you could sail over to that Island of yours while I go riding.”
What he always forgot about Katie was that she really liked him and cared about him. And he certainly liked her. With Katie what you saw was what you got.
“Great idea. We can drive down on Saturday.”
“I’ll double check my schedule, but it should be okay,” Katie said. “Why don’t you give Peter and the gang a call and see if they want to join us?”
“I thought we might just go by ourselves this time,” Ralph said.
“You really are a romantic at heart, Ralph.” She leant across and gave him a kiss.
He wondered if the Mlodziezy was again at sea with a new skipper at the helm and if they would ever see or hear of Alex again. He rather hoped not.
A few months later he received a letter from Boris Johnson, the Mayor of London. It said that in recognition of the part that the crew of the Dar Mlodziezy had played in averting the terrorist attack, The City of London and the companies at Canary Wharf wanted to make a donation to a charity of Ralph’s choice. The amount shocked him. It was for £120,000. He accepted and split the generous check three ways amongst the Chernobyl victims fund, the Marine College at Gdansk and Amnesty International. He looked forward to a quiet weekend with Katie.
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