They’d agreed to meet at eleven at the snowscooter shop. Sutherland was in great form from that moment on, and more generous with the wine.
Sophie had asked Isak, when they were getting up to move from the dining-room, ‘Did you say the place where those murders were committed is in south Finland?’
‘No. As it was told to me, well south of the border. Therefore perhaps not as much as halfway down the length of Finland, but in south Samiland.’ His small eyes had glinted, seeing a chance to make a point. ‘So it would be of little concern to Norwegian people. But to us whose home is Samiland — irrespective of foreigners who have settled here or there, in the various parts of our land — for us, this crime has been committed in our country.’
*
He’d been pleased with himself at having put that one over, especially as it had left the elegant, rather disdainful young woman stumped for an answer. Like Sutherland he’d been in a good mood thereafter, despite the worry of having a visitor of a very different kind in town, and a clear need to keep the two apart.
He slithered down the steep, rough shortcut to the lower road and hurried eastward. There shouldn’t be any problem, he thought, neither the Yanks nor the other were likely to be here long. He had the fur flaps of his hat down over his ears and his coat-collar buttoned up around his jaw. Temperature about minus thirty, he guessed. Absolutely clear sky, stars dazzlingly bright in it. He had not brought his car to the hotel for the good reason that although one rarely met politi on the streets — the young American had been right, on that — they tended to materialise out of thin air if you’d had a few drinks and then got behind the wheel of a motorcar. One tot of whisky was enough to put you over the limit, and to be caught driving in that condition meant prison, no lesser sentence being available to the courts.
He turned right. Skirting the police station, as it happened. Then at the bottom of that road, left. Not a soul stirring anywhere, although there were still lights in many windows. The buildings weren’t at all close together here in the centre of Karasjok; they were spread loosely, plenty of open space between them, so that you could sometimes take shortcuts from one road to another, if you had good boots on and didn’t mind forging through virgin snow. Plodding on, thinking that in the morning he’d decide what sort of bullshit he was going to hand Carl Sutherland. It was as well to appear willing, he thought, and to seem to be as baffled and as worried as the Americans themselves. Although, what business they imagined it could be of theirs…
He was walking up the path to his house when a voice spoke out of the dark, in Norwegian with a strong foreign accent: ‘At last… I’m coming inside with you, Isak, we have to talk.’
‘Johan!’
‘Come on, let’s not hang around.’
‘But my niece—‘
‘She’s still up. She’s been watching television most of the time. Send her to bed, tell her you’ve brought a customer home, talking business.’
‘I was about to say, my niece would have let you in, you could have waited in the warm. If I’d known—’
‘You’d have drunk less of the Americans’ whisky, eh?’
The bastard knew every bloody thing that happened. Watching Inga through this window, another in the hotel watching me… ‘I’m sorry you had to wait, anyway.’ He opened the door. ‘Inga, are you awake?’
‘Oh, uncle…’
Appearing from the living-room, she stopped when she saw another man behind him, in the dark outside the door. Big, twice Isak’s size: his face wasn’t visible. Isak told her, ‘Go to bed, girl. My friend and I have business to discuss.’
‘Wouldn‘t you like some soup, or—’
The big man said, ‘No, thank you.’
‘Up to bed with you, my pet.’
The visitor didn’t come into the hallway until she’d gone. Then he muttered, kicking snow off his boots and pushing the door shut, ‘Fond of her, aren’t you?’
‘She’s — all I have.’
‘All a red-blooded man might want, too. On a cold night, eh?’
In the living-room, he kicked that door shut too. Unzipping his padded coat and pulling it off. ‘You said she’d have let me in. If you’re so fond of her, you should tell her never to do any such thing… Who are these Americans?’
Isak explained who, what and why. Describing Sutherland and his reasons for being here was easy, but accounting for the others’ presence less so, rather lame-sounding when you put it into words. He hadn’t taken note of this until now, he’d swallowed Sutherland’s explanations without much thought. Now, the student, Stenberg, was the only one of the three one could easily accept. He saw a sneer on his visitor’s face too: ‘Ferreting around for the latest news, for a book of an academic nature that’s already in circulation? Doesn’t it strike you as peculiar? Is this a professor of anthropology or a newspaper reporter?’
‘He’s well known, his book was—’
‘Or CIA?’
Isak shook his head. ‘Professor Sutherland is widely respected. Why, I myself—’
‘Be difficult to find a better cover, wouldn’t it? I’m surprised you’re so gullible, Isak.’
‘I had no’ — he corrected — ‘have no reason to doubt—’
‘That was the professor who interrupted us on the bridge, I suppose.’
‘Yes, but I’m quite certain—’
‘I was about to say, this afternoon when we were interrupted, there’s been a leakage of information. Somewhere, someone. Since you’ve been coordinating some aspects for us, indeed since you know more about the business than anyone else in Finnmark except me, naturally I come to you first. For your thoughts on the subject only, Isak. I’m sure you’ll tell me you could not possibly have let a word slip out — even when you’ve had some drinks like tonight?’
‘I’d be happy to declare on oath—’
‘You’re fond of whisky — right?’
‘No more than the next man.’
‘You mean no more than the next Sami?’
Isak scowled. ‘I’ve heard your people swill vodka out of buckets. But I don’t accuse you—’
‘Better we should not become aggressive with each other, Isak. After all, this is as much in your own interests as anyone else’s. Unless our security is guaranteed, I’ve told you, my people will withdraw, they won’t touch it. Then your dreams vanish, don’t they? Maybe even worse, instead of being installed as the first President of the Sami nation you could be left holding the baby. Huh?’
Isak sighed, and turned away. It was a scenario he didn’t like to think about.
‘Does your niece know anything about our movement?’
A shake of the head. ‘Nothing.’
‘Let’s try another subject. I hear the Alta police have let Pelto go.’
‘Yes.’ Isak turned back to face him. ‘I heard it on the radio. But he knows nothing, he did only what he was told, and he didn’t know who told him. The only thing he could have done, if he’d opened his mouth at all, would be to incriminate himself.’
‘But Aikko knows a thing or two, eh? And he was in the lock-up for several days. Maybe he talked?’
‘It was weeks ago, they had Aikko. And others with him — who’d done nothing — so he was just one of a crowd they were holding, wasn’t he. And look — if he’d told them it was Pelto who — well, wouldn’t they have grabbed Pelto then, right away? And then not let Aikko go either?’
‘They don’t have to be idiots, Isak. It would make sense to wait so that nothing pointed at Aikko as an informer. They’d still keep tabs on both of them — to see who came to visit, that sort of thing?’
‘What kind of leak was this?’
‘An entry route. There were people waiting. Watching.’
‘But Aikko had no such information, surely!’
A nod. ‘Right. No more than you do. That’s true. Six of one, half a dozen of the other. But suppose some very small piece of the business becomes known, Isak. An astute man might ask himself how might
people come and go? Not via the Norwegian/Soviet part of the frontier; that’s fenced and guarded. So it must be through Finland, right? Where there’s no fence. Then — well, you could work it out, to some extent. Eliminate the unlikely sectors, and so on. Then you’re on your way, eh?’
‘These men who were — you say watching—’
‘Hey, that’s my next question. Their leader, of part Sami parentage, is a vanrikki in the Finnish Army.’
‘Is?’
‘That’s what I just—’
‘I thought maybe — some link with this and the story you told me on the bridge, about three Finns killed. That’s going round like fire now, by the way.’
‘No. No connection.’ A shake of the head, and a smile. ‘Your imagination, Isak, really. I suppose it’s the artist in you. No, listen — this Finn. I heard he was here in Karasjok a few weeks ago, asking questions. A man named Clas Saarinen.’
‘I never heard of him. Or of any Finn asking questions.’
‘You go away on business quite often, don’t you? On your snowscooter business.’
‘Not recently, I haven’t.’
‘And on our business. Are you so sure your niece spends all her time watching television when you aren‘t around? You were in Alta, for instance, on a mission which you and I have forgotten about, at the time Saarinen was visiting here. And somebody did call at this house, a stranger. Did you hear of it?’
‘Someone might call.’ Isak frowned. ‘Doesn’t mean she’d open the door to him, not to a stranger. If you’d told her you were a friend — the same one she knows I went to meet this afternoon — that’d be different.’
‘What if he’d said he was a friend? And if she was lonely? Or just liked the look of him?’
‘Inga has a steady boyfriend. A mechanic, he works for me. But anyway, as I told you, she’s — she knows nothing.’
‘Let’s ask her.’
‘Ask — what, now?‘
He was at the door. ‘Come on.’
Upstairs, he stayed in the passage, pushed Isak into the girl’s bedroom.
‘Inga… Inga darling, are you awake?’
‘What’s — what —’
The light blinded her. She was up on one elbow, blinking at him, dazzled, the other hand moving to shield her eyes. Isak murmured, ‘I’m sorry, darling. It’s just a question my friend here needs to ask you — rather urgently, you see. No, don’t worry’ — she’d snatched at the bedclothes, pulling them up to her throat — ‘he won’t come in the room. Only wants to ask you this, then we’ll leave you to go back to sleep — all right?’
The man standing back in the dark passage could see her scared, pale face above the blankets. He’d counted on her being scared, it always helped. He explained, ‘I am from near Helsinki. I’m looking for a friend of mine — from Rovaniemi as it happens — who seems to have vanished. His name is Clas — Clas Saarinen…’ He saw the reaction clearly — in her eyes, and a parting of the lips to match that widening. Then the tip of her tongue, wetting the lips… ‘Clas is quite young, a good-looking fellow, most girls would remember him. Name doesn’t ring any bells? Clas Saarinen?’
She stammered, ‘No, I don’t know — anyone that name or — why should I—’
‘There was a chance he might have called here wanting to see your uncle, when he was away in Alta that time. Not so long ago, actually. Are you sure you don’t remember such a person calling here?’
‘No, I told you—’
‘Well, that’s it, then. I’m sorry. I’d hoped — but never mind… Sorry I had to disturb you, Inga.’
Isak went to kiss her before he put the light out and followed the man down the stairs. His guest knowing for a fact now that Saarinen had been here. In all the circumstances it couldn’t possibly be coincidental; the Sami world was a small one, numerically, but Clas Saarinen had come to the house of the one man in Norway — well, one of two — who could have told him anything at all, and that man’s sexy little niece must have blurted out something. Not much — but for Saarinen, enough. There’d be no mileage to be gained from grilling Isak now, however: it was obvious that nothing would induce him to admit that either he or she could have let any cat out of the bag.
No matter. As with any other cat, there were more ways than one to skin it.
Isak muttered as they came into the living-room, ‘Hope you’re satisfied now.’
‘Except that your neighbours say a stranger did come.’
Isak was taken aback, but only for a moment… ‘Well, someone knocks, asks directions maybe — would you remember, two months later?’
‘If I lived in a place like this — yes.’
‘A scatter-brained chick like her wouldn’t. Even if my long-nosed bloody neighbours are telling the truth, which I’d doubt. Incidentally, which ones—’
‘It doesn’t matter, Isak.’
‘To me, it does… But listen, here’s something else now. There wouldn’t need to be a leak at all. If your people had left some tracks or something? When all these rumours are going round and the government’s beginning to sweat a bit, then some hunter or frontier patrol finds a fresh trail?’
‘It’s not impossible.’ The big man nodded. ‘And obviously I’ve considered it. But I can’t take a chance on this whole scare being no more than a fluke. If we see the least possibility of a leak, I have to take steps to stop it or we’ll all be stopped. I must have told you about six times — well, if my superiors suspected even as much as I suspect now, they’d call it off.’ He yawned. ‘That’s why I’m here. And the answer must be Aikko, I’m sure of it. On the other hand we now have these Americans of yours. When will you next be seeing them?’
‘In the morning. Professor Sutherland wants my views on the present situation here. I’ll hand him a load of shit, of course — which he’ll probably record on tape. How the rumours of violence sicken me, how I’m certain no Sami could have placed that bomb. But I know nothing, nobody talks to anyone else, nobody knows where it starts or — oh, you know.’
Isak’s visitor pulled out a chair and sat down with his elbows on the table. He was about the same height seated as the Lapp was on his booted feet. He said thoughtfully, ‘I believe you can do better than that, my friend.’
Isak shrugged. ‘So tell me what to say, I’ll say it. Like coffee now?’
‘How kind…’
Waiting, the big man rested his stubbled jaw on his fists. Concentrating, shaping ideas and fitting them into existing plans, manpower…
*
Markov, who was with Pereudin at an overnatting on the other side of town, could go by bus to Alta and silence Aikko, Belyak decided. This would eliminate one possible source of the leak — the least likely, admittedly, of the three which existed, one of whom was at this moment making coffee in the next room. Markov must be warned not to enlist help from, or even make contact with, either of the two Spetsnaz agents resident in Alta: this warning would have to be given because (a) he hadn’t operated solo before, and (b) he did have, in his memory, the name and addresses of those agents, and might be tempted to make use of them.
(Agents there and at the other ports — at which there were to be landings by naval Spetsnaz teams from midget submarines, when the moment came — and others residing near airfields, communications centres, radar sites, etcetera, were all long-settled people, completely accepted in their own communities. Not all were active: some were elderly, had only to provide safe houses or transport, or communications facilities. In Russian they were classified as zamorozhenniye, or ‘frozens’, and their cover was sacrosanct, on no account to be compromised. This operation might be aborted, for instance, and since they wouldn’t have lifted a finger before being activated they’d still be there for next time.)
Anyway, Markov could handle Aikko. And another reason to warn him not to rock the boat was the fact that this would be a doubly clandestine action, that no reports would be made of it. No reason for any, as long as the job was done. First Aikko, who’d se
rved his purpose. Number two was the kid upstairs, and she’d be Pereudin’s meat. In more ways than one — knowing Pereudin. He could do his bit a day after they’d all moved out. He’d come with a message: Your uncle wants you to join him, there are reasons it’s unsafe for you to stay here alone, I’m to take you to him now… Well, he’d take her someplace. It would be killing two birds with one stone, not only eliminating the girl as a possible leak but also buying insurance for Isak’s continuing obedience — as long as he believed she was alive, and while he was having the last dregs of usefulness squeezed out of him.
Now there were these Americans. Which alone would have justified his coming up here, might conveniently become the official reason for having done so. V.V. Rosenko might be allowed to conclude that Belyak’s intelligence net was so effective that he’d been able to arrange to be on the spot when the Yanks arrived.
In fact — he snapped his fingers, as the whole thing fell neatly into place — it was perfect. It would justify his sending an order back to Yuri Grintsov now, telling him to come up as far as the border, say, with reinforcements. And a small team, just in case of any slip-ups, on the road up to Kautokeino. Markov could come down by that route from Alta — it would be his best route, in fact — and R/V with that team at the Statens fjellstue near the border or the other one, close to the highway at Aiddejavtre. Gerasimov, maybe, for that job…
‘Here we are then. Coffee.’
‘Good man. And now listen to me, and I’ll tell you how I want you to handle your Yanky friends. You may find the task a bit strenuous physically, but it’ll only be for a week or two and it certainly won’t do you any harm… To start with — thanks, no sugar — you’ll have this meeting with the guy tomorrow, and you’ll be enthusiastic, full of an idea you’ve spent the whole night thinking about. You’ll make him a proposal which — well, if he wants to know what’s going on, and obviously the arsehole does, he’s come half across the world for it and you can be damn sure it’s not for any fucking book he wants it, either — look, he’s going to jump at this, I tell you … You have comrades, Isak, in a siida down south. Near the border or maybe beyond, in Finland. They move around, according to weather, snow conditions, all that, so locating them may not be too easy. But you heard from one of them, when he passed through here in October — he told you he has all the answers, what’s happening and about to happen, and the identities of those who’re conspiring. You’ll offer to take them to find this siida. Until now you’ve tried to stay clear of it, but you’ve woken to your sacred duty to the Sami people — well, Christ, you’ll know how to ham that up!’
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