by Jaye Rothman
The door to the lounge was stuck; I pushed against it twice. Perhaps a carpet was rucked up. I gave it a shove with my shoulder and found that a book had become wedged under the door. His sitting room had been ransacked. All Maksimov’s books, photos and pictures had been systematically destroyed. The books had been torn from their covers, photos taken out of frames and torn into shreds, the glass smashed and frames broken and discarded. Pictures had been slashed with a serrated knife. It looked as if the same knife had been used on the cushions and the couch. Feathers drifted in the air, causing me to cough as I picked my way through the wreckage. The kitchen had been similarly ransacked; the contents of the fridge and store cupboards were strewn over the lino. Someone had done a thorough search of Maksimov’s home.
I tore up the steep stairs to his bedroom. His mattress and pillows had been slashed, this time with a sharp knife – maybe army issue? Perhaps there were two culprits. His clothes had been pulled out of the wardrobe and chest of drawers and ripped to shreds. On the floor under his bed I found his Torah. I skimmed through the pages, searching for the services at Passover… Here it was: “Next year in Jerusalem” had been underlined in pencil, and he had written in Hebrew in minuscule writing, “I will be there.”
How would Maksimov be able to travel there when he had two more years of his contract to complete? He was a high security risk as, clearly, his first loyalties were to Israel, but had the Mossad been running him? Who had cleared him to work at the facility?
Questions but no answers. My stomach growled. Time for lunch. Would Eva be in the restaurant?
She was, sitting at a table for two near the window looking out onto the lawn. The sun had come out and was filtering through the large oaks that framed the back garden of the Manor House. Eva must have heard my footsteps because she swivelled round and a slow smile transformed her face.
“Nikki, I was thinking about you. What do you call that – telepathy?”
I pulled out a seat and sat opposite her. “Yeah. You left in a hurry.”
“I know. There are some things I can’t tell you yet…” Eva sighed and a shadow crossed her face.
“All morning I’ve been thinking about you – I mean us.”
I had to stop myself reaching out and taking her hands.
“Last night was amazing and wonderful for me, and I think for you, too, yes?”
I nodded.
“Nikki, we’ve spent only one evening and one night together,” she laughed, “but everything’s changed for me. For once, I feel happy. Isn’t it crazy after one night?”
She placed her hand on top of mine and squeezed it. I was aware that our fellow diners were casting inquisitive looks in our direction.
“Eva, I’d love to kiss you now…” She laughed uproariously, which caused more people to turn their heads. “…but I don’t think it would be the wisest idea.”
She reluctantly let go of my hand. “Is it illegal for women to sleep with women in England?”
I shook my head. “No, but it’s not generally accepted in English society. It can cause a stir.”
“A stir. Is this good or bad?”
It was my turn to laugh. “Mmm, it can be both, but it’s probably not great for our careers.”
“If we are lovers, we won’t be arrested?”
“No.” I reassured her. “We won’t.”
“Good, because I want to sleep with you tonight and the next night, and the next…” Eva stopped, suddenly looking concerned. “Is it OK to say this to you? I don’t know sometimes. My English…”
“Mmm, yes, it’s fine.” I loved the way she spoke to me. I found it refreshing and honest, and it caused the flame to flare higher.
“Eva, remember I was introduced to you as a Time and Motion Expert? Well, I’m not. I work for the British Government.” That was as honest as I could be. I wondered if I could ever be as candid with a girlfriend as Lonnie Marks was with his wife.
Eva reached out and brushed my hair back from my face. She didn’t appear concerned about the gossip that would be buzzing around the facility. Several faces were now turned in our direction, their expressions ranging from shocked to appalled.
“Oh darling, I knew, when I met you, that you weren’t anything to do with this ‘time and movement’. I saw that you had a lump.” She pointed to my shoulder. “That you wear a gun. Are you investigating the murders of Mester and Maksimov?”
“Yeah, but it’s slow going. No leads yet.”
Eva leaned towards me and in a low voice said, “Be careful around that bastard Yerzov. He’s a misogynist. Do you think he attacked you last night, darling?”
I concealed my utter astonishment. Eva had spoken in perfect English, using a word that probably only fluent speakers understood. It was a complete contrast to her faltering English.
“I’m not sure. Have you had any run-ins with him?”
She had recovered. “Run-ins – what is that, Nikki?”
“Has he come on to you? Tried it on?”
“Oh, now I understand.” Eva smiled. “No, but when he goes on leave at weekends, he buys women.”
“Really? That’s interesting.” This titbit of information had just made Yerzov a higher security risk. If he wasn’t working for the KGB, an unfriendly or friendly power could be extracting Intel from him by using female agents disguised as prostitutes. Yerzov could also be a victim of blackmail. The Mossad used both methods with considerable success – perhaps Dvora could be involved? I didn’t think so, but it would depend on the quality of the Intel. If it was high-level material, then it was possible. Was Dvora here? The very thought of her caused my heart to race uncontrollably. Damn, it had only taken one day for me to break my vow.
“Nikki, I want to cook for you tonight. I don’t think you look after yourself that well.”
I hadn’t met any woman who was as concerned and caring for my welfare as Eva.
“Thank you. That would be wonderful.”
“I am going to finish work early, because it is hard for me to concentrate. I keep thinking of you in bed, kissing and touching me.” She laughed self-consciously. “Have you thought about me touching you?”
“Mmm, well...”
“Well, what, Nikki?” Eva found my leg under cover of the tablecloth and ran her hand along my inner thigh, letting it rest nonchalantly on my groin. “Well, what are you thinking right now?”
I could see she was enjoying my discomfort. I quickly rose from the table, pushing my chair back hastily. It fell with a crash to the tiled floor, causing all the patrons to pause and stare in my direction before returning to their meals. I was aware that I had blushed a deep red, and this appeared to amuse Eva further. She giggled again.
In my flustered state, I hadn’t noticed that the ubiquitous Bryant was lying in wait for me outside the restaurant. He grabbed hold of my arm and held it in a surprisingly tight grip. I could smell his breath: vodka with a peppermint overlay, a recipe for Dutch courage.
“Let go of me.” I hissed. “If you don’t, I’ll break your fucking nose right here, right now.”
I hoped he would take me on, but he seemed to think better of it. His clammy hand dropped to his side.
“I know Faber. I saw you in the restaurant. You’re fucking her, after I warned you. Don’t deny it.”
My voice was icy. “I sleep with who I want.”
“Not when it’s my girlfriend.”
I laughed. “You’re deluded, Bryant. She’s not your girlfriend, and if I catch you hanging around her again, you’ll have to deal with me.” I took another step towards him, so I was in his personal space. “Here’s a free piece of advice: don’t threaten me again. OK?”
He had edged backwards and didn’t reply. I watched his retreating back. What an obnoxious man! He clearly didn’t like me on his turf, but did he have the fortitude, cunning and coolness to spy for the KGB?
Pagham Harbour was my next stop. I wanted to put the soft-top of the MGB down and enjoy the rush of wind in my ha
ir. But with two attempts on my life, it probably wasn’t wise and, for sure, I wouldn’t be walking through the woods to Pagham again.
I found CJ in the back of the pub, nursing a pint of the local brew. The difference was, this time, unlike the last when she had been impatiently waiting for me, her attention was focused on a brunette who sat next to her. I watched them for two minutes. They were engrossed and attentive with each other. Clearly I had already been replaced in CJ’s bed. I could hear their laughter from where I was standing and I knew, from the forced sound of it, that CJ had seen me but had chosen to ignore my presence.
I went to the bar and order a double Johnnie Walker. I lit a Rothmans and smoked it while sipping my drink. How long would she keep me waiting?
Another four minutes went by before CJ appeared. Was I disappointed that she had a new lover within two days of fucking me? Of course I was. The incredible orgasms she’d given me in Tunisia were branded on my soul. Now CJ was somebody else’s lover.
“Hi, Nikki.” There was a false note to her greeting.
“Hello, CJ. Who’s your new friend?”
She had the grace to blush. “That’s Linda. She’s here on a birdwatching holiday. We met at a lecture on the decline of bird life in the area. I have to keep my cover story up,” she added defensively.
I don’t know why I asked her, because it made me look petty and jealous. “Are you sleeping with her?”
CJ couldn’t meet my eyes. She looked away and studied the beer taps. “You know I am. Why shouldn’t I? It’s not as if you and I are in a relationship.” She put heavy emphasis on the word relationship. “Last time we slept together, all you could think of was Eva. Incidentally, was she a good fuck?”
I heard the hurt in CJ’s voice and knew, then, that if I had asked her to be my girlfriend she would have committed. But I hadn’t.
I lowered my voice. “Do you want out?”
“Of course I don’t.” She clasped my hand, and then abruptly released it.
“Good. My phone is being tapped and I can’t trust anyone at the facility. Bryant could be colluding with someone, but he’s not sharp enough to be a key player for the KGB. Someone in the facility is clever, smart and one step ahead of me. Can you contact Manning and ask ‘our friends’ if Maksimov was working for them?”
I updated CJ about my discovery in Maksimov’s house. “I don’t think he was working for the Israelis but I believe he thought he was. I think it was a set-up by the KGB. I don’t think ‘our friends’ would risk running someone out of a British secure facility. They’re probably way ahead of us in the production of nerve toxins anyway.”
I paused and took a sip of my drink, and lit another Rothmans. “I think the KGB rented an office in Harley Street. The consultant that Maksimov visited had a Jewish name. I’m sure it wouldn’t have been difficult to persuade him to develop the formula secretly, if he thought he would be assisting Israel. Perhaps extraction to Israel was part of the deal. I don’t know, but he wouldn’t have given the formula to the Russians voluntarily.”
“Why?”
“Because many Russian Jews want to emigrate to Israel and the Soviet authorities aren’t exactly encouraging them. Maksimov would have been angry and resentful because his application to emigrate was turned down.”
“OK. So now Polakoff’s disappeared, why are you sure there’s another KGB agent at the facility?”
“After Polakoff escaped, there were two more attempts on my life. Why try and kill me if all the birds had flown?”
“I’ll phone Manning.”
Eva opened the door and was immediately in my arms. Her kiss was long, deep and passionate and there was a hunger that hadn’t been there yesterday. She held my face in her hands, looked into my eyes, sighed, and then kissed me again tenderly. I could have kissed her all night; she was a fantastic kisser.
“Where did you learn to kiss like that?” I whispered.
“Did you like it?”
“Yes, I loved it.”
She laughed and looked slightly embarrassed. “I don’t know. It’s you. That’s how you make me feel.”
It was my turn to pull her to me.
We kissed again, and then the sound of a saucepan boiling over caused Eva to rush to the stove. I started to use a Czech expression that I had learnt years ago, something along the lines of ‘a watched pot never boils.’
I expected her to laugh. Instead, she said, “Nikki you’re so distracting, but I’m not complaining.”
CHAPTER 7
DAY FIVE
At 4.30 a.m. I woke to the pitter-patter of rain on the roof. What had caused me to wake? Eva was sleeping soundly with her arm draped around my waist. I heard a noise – a scraping sound and a crack. Where was it coming from? Without disturbing Eva I rolled to the edge of the bed. I dressed swiftly and strapped my gun holster to my shoulder. There it was again.
Her bedroom window overlooked the kitchen of Squirrel Cottage. The yellow light from the kitchen was reflecting onto the paving stones. I peeped out from behind the curtain and could just make out a figure in an oversized dark coat with a cap pulled down attempting to break into Squirrel Cottage. Heavy slanting rain was now falling and obscured my view of the ground floor; I couldn’t make out the intruder’s identity.
The stairs creaked in protest as I edged my way downstairs. I fitted the silencer to my Beretta, and for a minute I thought that I would falter. I had never been afraid of facing danger, but after the last few days, my courage was wavering.
There was a cracking sound, the unmistakable sound of glass being smashed by something solid, probably by the handle of a gun. I could only hope that Eva hadn’t heard it, and wouldn’t come looking for me.
I ran to Eva’s back door and prayed that the sound of the rain would mask the squeaking of the hinges. A gloved hand was groping for the window handle but whoever this was didn’t know that I had locked all the windows after the first attempt on my life. In addition, all Ministry of Defence properties were fitted with security of a high standard, but this person wouldn’t necessarily be privy to that fact.
The hand yanked on the handle again but it didn’t budge. I positioned myself by the wall, out of sight and away from the light. The rain was coming down harder now and a wind had picked up. Pinpricks of rain lanced onto my face. There had been no time to tie my hair back; it blew into my face, partly obscuring my vision.
I quickly tucked my hair behind my ears and waited until the figure raised the butt of the gun to smash the handle again.
“Drop your gun now!” I shouted above the wind and the rain. The figure froze and then the hand swiftly withdrew from the window. Suddenly, soundlessly, with a speed I didn’t think possible, my assailant whirled round and threw a knife at me. The aim was fairly accurate, and I had to throw myself to the ground to avoid it. The blade chunked into the wall behind me, and the figure raced away down the path between the two cottages. I scrambled to my feet and ran out to give chase, but I had wasted precious seconds. I sprinted to the road and looked left and right. No one was in sight; my assailant could have hidden in one of the gardens behind a shrub or tree. I had the advantage, but he or she had been faster.
Why hadn’t Lonnie woken up? Maybe the sedatives were still in his system?
In any case, I didn’t have the physical or mental energy to search tonight. My shoulders drooped with exhaustion. Eva appeared at her back door. Uttering a cry of alarm, she ran to me. “Nikki, are you OK? Shall I phone Bryant?”
I tried to smile, but it was strained. Three attempts on my life in three days. Someone wanted me dead.
“Let’s get out of the rain.” She put an arm over my shoulders and ushered me back inside. “What happened?”
“Someone was trying to get into my cottage, but they got away.” My head was pounding, and I shivered violently with the cold.
“Darling, take a shower and I’ll make a hot drink.” Eva took me firmly by the arm and propelled me towards the bathroom and turned the showe
r up to hot. She stripped my clothes off, as I couldn’t stop shivering.
I stood in the shower for a long, long time. Gradually I felt the life coming back into my shaking arms and legs. Somewhat restored, I wrapped myself in a large bath towel and made my way to the kitchen. Eva had made me some hot, sweet tea and I sipped it gratefully.
“Do you have something stronger?”
Eva looked concerned. “I don’t think that is a good idea. You had a bad shock.”
I didn’t argue, as she was probably right.
“You said ‘they’?”
“Yes, I’m not sure. It could easily have been a woman, wearing a big coat. Whoever it was, their reactions were extremely quick.”
“Come to bed, Nikki. You need to rest.”
She took me by the hand and led me back to bed. Eva held me tightly in her arms and, without speaking, made love to me. It was tender, loving and exquisitely beautiful. I called her name when I climaxed and then, to my chagrin, I wept. Perhaps it was the emotion of our lovemaking, or my vulnerability after another attempt on my life. I don’t know. All I knew was that a cascade of hot tears spilled from my eyes and choking sobs caught in my throat, and I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t control it. I would have been ashamed and embarrassed if this had happened to me with someone else, but not with Eva. She soothed me until my sobs subsided. I didn’t feel the need to explain or apologise to her. She had seen me at my most exposed and defenceless, but she hadn’t judged. All she had wanted to do was comfort and console me.
What would it be like if she lived in London with me? I had never taken any women to my apartment; I was the only one who had ever slept in my double bed. I was so tired of that lonely existence. There was no doubt that Eva and I had connected at a deep physical and emotional level. Would it be enough for me outside the closed walls of the facility?
