The Trinity Six - Charles Cumming [135]
‘So?’
‘He said the safe house was “wired up”. Does that mean he would have recorded the interview? Videotaped it?’
‘Recorded certainly.’ Tanya was clearly intrigued. ‘I don’t know about video. If it was the late eighties, perhaps. The technology would certainly have existed to use a concealed camera in low light.’
‘What would have happened to those tapes after the interview? Would they be kept in a vault at Vauxhall Cross?’
‘Doubtful. If the tape ever made it to London in a diplomatic bag, it would have been destroyed by Brennan.’
Gaddis twisted in his seat. He was on to something.
‘There are tapes in the boxes Holly gave me, tapes in Katya’s files.’ His voice had quickened. ‘What if the interview is on one of them?’
‘Keep talking.’
‘Before I went to the bathroom, Wilkinson quoted Morecambe and Wise at me. You’re playing the right notes, but not necessarily in the right order. I thought it was just a joke at first, but he said that I wasn’t looking at the files in the right way. What if Katya’s material isn’t a paper trail? What if it’s something else? What if the smoking gun is a tape?’
Tanya braked suddenly as a van swerved out in front of her. Gaddis swore, because his nerves were still on edge. The car beside them sounded its horn and he looked across, lip-reading the driver shouting out in anger.
‘I’m not sure I follow you,’ she said.
‘What if Wilkinson made a copy of the tape and sent it to Katya along with the other documents, hoping that she would make use of it?’
‘That’s a big “if”.’
‘But just say she did.’
‘Then the Russians have probably stolen it. Or it’s lost. Or they’ve lobbed a Molotov Cocktail through your sitting-room window and burned down your house.’
Gaddis ignored the joke. ‘Let’s go there now,’ he said. ‘Let’s go to my house and go through the boxes.’
‘Not going to happen.’
‘Why?’
‘Come on, Sam. It would be suicidal. Doronin gave your description to the FSB. They’re probably sitting outside your house as we speak. The minute you show your face in Shepherd’s Bush, they’ll come for you.’
‘Then why are we on the M25 heading back into London?’
‘Because I’m taking you to a safe house.’
Gaddis felt an odd mixture of relief and despair: relief that Tanya was guaranteeing him some measure of safety; despair that he was being forced out of his home.
‘How dangerous can it be?’ he said. ‘Let’s just poke our heads round the door. I need a change of clothes anyway. All my papers are there, my stuff for work. It would take five minutes.’
‘No,’ Tanya replied.
‘So that’s it?’ He felt a sudden anger, confronted by the stark limits which would now be imposed on his life. ‘I can’t go home? That’s the directive from MI6?’
‘It’s not coming from MI6.’
‘Then who’s it coming from?’
‘Me.’
He had been on the point of extracting a cigarette, on instinct, but again returned the packet to his coat.
‘You?’
‘Brennan wants you out of the picture.’ Tanya almost spat the words, as if she could not believe what she was saying. ‘You’re a thorn in his side.’ Gaddis could see the conflict in her, the doubt. ‘I’m going to take care of you for a few days. I’m worried that it might have been Brennan who tipped the Russians off about Wilkinson. And I didn’t apply for this job so that my boss could betray his own people to the Kremlin and put innocent lives at risk.’
There was a moment in which he thought that she was playing him again. Her words sounded heartfelt, but the stark admission was so out of character that he wondered if the whole thing was rehearsed. It was a habit Gaddis had developed, a safety valve to avoid being manipulated. But when he took her hand in his, he knew that Tanya was utterly serious. He could sense it by the way she glanced at him quickly and then looked away. She squeezed his hand back, then released it, the reassurance of a friend. Was her theory possible? It was an astonishing accusation, yet Brennan had every motive to betray Wilkinson. Gaddis turned around and looked behind his chair. Dry cleaning was folded on the back