The Avenue of the Dead (37 page)

‘Blaming me,' Grant said. ‘He's a very shrewd fellow; I'm sure he suspects my reasons for filling in the details about the wretched Elizabeth Carlton. He hasn't actually accused me of inciting Fleming to kill Borisov's agent, but he's dropped some sharp hints. The CIA are furious, too.'

‘Naturally,' Sir James agreed. ‘But we couldn't leave her in their hands, could we? I'm sure they meant to get rid of her, but this is much the best solution. You couldn't trust Spencer-Barr a yard – he'd be quite capable of using her himself if he saw an opportunity. The row will blow over, Humphrey, these things always do. What remains to be seen is what this will do to Igor Borisov. That's going to be interesting.'

‘Yes,' Grant agreed. ‘The next few weeks of Moscow-watching should be very interesting indeed. By the way, what do we do with Neil Browning?'

‘I've been thinking about that. I think we'll post him to Dublin. Moscow will promptly pick him up and we'll learn a lot from watching him. So will the Irish Government. And he'll be nice and close whenever we decide he's no longer any use to us. What news of Major Lomax?'

‘I went to see him in hospital. He's turned the corner, so I was told.'

Grant's occasional lapses into cliché amused James White. His deputy considered himself rather a pedant about words.

‘And the invaluable Miss Graham? What a splendid thing I did to get her to come back, wasn't it, Humphrey? And you said she never would.'

‘I wouldn't count on it,' Grant said. ‘A lot will depend upon Lomax's recovery. I asked her when she was coming back to the office and she said that she had no idea and didn't give a damn. I left her keeping vigil at the hospital.'

‘That's all right,' James White dismissed it lightly. ‘She'll be back, all in good time. Now, how about a walk round the garden before tea?'

‘You failed, Comrade General Borisov.'

‘Yes,' Borisov said. ‘Yes, I failed. I wanted to report to you first.' The heavy head that now lifted slightly belonged to the Secretary General of the Communist Party of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. So much simpler, thought Borisov, when they called the ruler of Russia the Tsar.

‘Why? What excuse have you to offer me?'

‘No excuse,' Igor Borisov said quietly. ‘I came to you direct, comrade, because you trusted me and had confidence in my work. I have failed you. I am sorry.'

The older man regarded him silently for a few moments. ‘Sit down, Borisov,' he said at last. ‘Let me tell you where you have made the serious mistake. Not the Plumed Serpent – intelligence operations of that complexity can often go wrong. This one did not entirely disappoint us. No.' The thick hand came up as Borisov started to speak. ‘Listen to me. You hoped to destroy the new American administration. That is a young man's dream, and you are an ambitious, clever young man. Men of my age are less ambitious, and therefore more often successful. Let me tell you about your mistake. Can you think what it is?'

‘No.' Igor Borisov shook his head. The interview was not taking the direction he expected. ‘Go to him direct,' had been Natalia's advice. ‘Speak to him as a father. He'll listen to you.'

The older man smiled; it gave his ugly face a benign, yes, a fatherly look, Borisov thought.

‘You underestimate the power of your position.'

Borisov didn't know what to answer. He said nothing. The smile widened and then disappeared. A frown of reproof replaced it.

‘You come here like a junior officer; you stand apologizing and being honest about what you have done wrong. Never do that again. Never stand in front of me or anyone else in the Politburo like a lieutenant caught smoking the colonel's cigarettes! You are in command of a quarter of a million men inside Russia; you are the guardian of our internal security. You control the Soviet state's most powerful weapon against its enemies from within and without. The KGB is not a counter-intelligence agency alone. You have forgotten its other role in maintaining the safety of the state and the Soviet people. You are young for your position, Igor Igorovitch, and you have risked your reputation on a counter-intelligence operation which had little chance of succeeding as you expected. I supported you in the Politburo when Rudzenko was attacking you. I hoped you would succeed, but I am not surprised you didn't. Nor disappointed. It has taught you a lesson, and it has achieved enough to beat back your enemies when they attack you. Prepare your case carefully, and I will continue to support you. You can make a case, I think.'

‘I can,' Borisov said slowly. ‘There is a scandal; America has lost an able servant, and relations between the CIA and the SIS are very strained, each accusing the other of withholding information. I can defend myself, if you will support me.'

‘I backed your nomination for the post,' the Secretary General said. ‘I helped to put you in a position which is second only to mine. Nobody else is going to remove you. I need you to watch Rudzenko. We both have a motive.'

‘Yes,' Igor Borisov said quietly. ‘I am your man. I will always be your man, and I will grow into my position, I promise you.'

The grey head nodded. ‘I know you will,' he said. ‘And you won't forget what you've learned today. So long as you have my trust you will defeat all your enemies. Including your own youth.' He reached forward and offered Borisov his hand. He took it and held it for a long moment. No words were necessary. The alliance had been concluded between them.

‘Thank goodness Davina's coming,' Mrs Graham said. ‘This house has been so empty since Charlie and John and little Fergie went home.'

Captain Graham laid down his paper and said, ‘You're impossible, Betty. All you want is someone to look after. Why can't you run after me instead? I'd love to be fussed over!'

She laughed at him. ‘Oh no, you wouldn't. The only time you had a temperature and I offered you the thermometer, you said something very rude indeed! I adored having the baby, he was so sweet.' She sighed, but it was a contented little sound. ‘It's nice to see Charlie so happy,' she said. ‘And such a good mother – I never thought she'd cope.'

Her husband said quickly, ‘Why ever not? Charlie's a very loving girl, of course she'd love the baby.' He didn't like his favourite daughter being criticized and he rustled the newspaper in protest. Betty Graham went on with her needlework; she belonged to a generation that had learned to sew beautifully.

‘I wonder what this Major Lomax is like?' she said after an interval. ‘Charlie says she's in love with him.'

‘Charlie's an incurable romantic,' her husband replied. ‘Davina said in the letter she was bringing a colleague down here to recuperate. He was very seriously injured out there and she wants him to have a rest in a private house. Much nicer than a convalescent home, that's what she wrote. Doesn't sound like a love affair to me. I thought it was a very cool letter, rather business-like, in fact.'

Betty Graham didn't answer. She bent over her embroidery frame and thought that Davina's father would never understand his daughter, fond of her though he was.

‘This garden is the most peaceful place,' Lomax said to her. He reached out and their hands met and clasped together. ‘Your family have been so good to me. I feel completely at home.'

‘You should do,' Davina answered. ‘You are at home. You won Mother's heart the minute you raved about the garden. And you're so much better since we've been here.'

‘Thanks to you. But I'll never be up to much. I can just about walk the length of the lawn and down here to the terrace and I'm flaked out!'

‘It'll take time,' she comforted. ‘And that's something we've got plenty of, thank God. I wish you'd been with me when I told the chief I was resigning – you should have seen his face! That maddening look – as much as to say, there, there, my dear, you'll see sense later on … And when he knew I meant it, I saw him angry for the very first time in all the years I've worked for him. That's why Humphrey's invited himself down. To try and make me change my mind.'

‘You should change it,' Lomax said. ‘You're too good to go to waste. For a woman, anyway,' and he smiled.

‘I have a better life to live and a more important role to play,' she said firmly. ‘And if all this is leading up to a nice bit of self-pity on your part, darling, you can forget it. I have you, and that's all I want. And if you start staying you're a useless crock and I'm throwing myself away on you once more, I shall scream!'

‘Then take a deep breath.'

She turned, hearing her mother's dogs barking round the front entrance of the house. ‘Damn – that'll be Humphrey. I suppose I'd better go and meet him. Thank God John and Charlie are coming this evening; it'll take the weight off us. He's like lead to entertain. You stay quiet here.'

Lomax eased himself in the garden chair. The roses were at the height of their flowering season, and the scent of them mingled with Mrs Graham's beloved madonna lilies. Now he had too much time. His enfeebled body was a prison for his spirit. He walked at the pace of an old man, railing against the weakness that defeated the urgency of his will. Not even strong enough to make love to the woman who was so generous in her love for him. She wanted to marry him. He hadn't argued with her. There was nothing he could do but wait for Humphrey Grant to come.

It was a very cheerful gathering, Captain Graham thought, looking at his two daughters, his son-in-law and his guests round the dining-room table. Charlie as always set everyone alight; he loved her gaiety. Davina was serene in her happiness. Clever Charlie had been right, of course. She was deeply in love with her major. A fine man, he thought contentedly. Just the sort of person his independent daughter needed to make her a little softer, more womanly. And the gaunt man who had come down from London was less lugubrious than his appearance suggested. He talked at length on world affairs with an astringency that the captain much appreciated. It made him feel less buried in the country to talk to someone who was in the centre of things. He surveyed his family with a deep satisfaction. The silver gleamed on the table; his wife glanced at him and smiled; the sound of laughter was as warm as the candlelight, and the Graham ancestors regarded them benignly from the walls. He felt himself a very fortunate man. They didn't linger at the table after dinner. Colin Lomax excused himself and went up the stairs to his room. It was a slow and painful progress, made a few steps at a time.

‘He's getting on, though,' the captain remarked to John Kidson. ‘We made a bedroom out of my study for the first few weeks. Davina's done wonders for him. I must say I never imagined she could be such a good nurse!'

‘How much of it is pity, do you think?' John asked him.

Captain Graham stared at him in surprise. ‘Pity? Oh, I never thought of that. She's in love with the chap. Not surprising, got the George Medal – badly shot up. Any woman worth her salt would fall for him. Come, my dear boy, I'll give you a glass of port. Where's my wife and the girls?'

‘Making coffee and gossiping, I imagine. Humphrey's disappeared.'

‘He made his excuses,' Captain Graham said. ‘Always goes to bed very early. Gets up very early too, so he says. I found him a most interesting fellow – Davy said he was terribly dry and dull.'

‘Perhaps she's never seen him out of the office,' Kidson suggested. ‘He certainly blossomed tonight. Let's go and have that port, then, shall we?'

‘I couldn't come before,' Humphrey Grant said. ‘The chief wanted to give you plenty of time to think.'

‘I realized that.'

‘You did a very good job, Major Lomax; it can't have been easy for you.'

‘No,' Colin answered. ‘Easy it wasn't. She trusted me, you see. That was what I found so difficult.'

‘Naturally – especially in view of your relationship. But that never coloured your judgement, that is what's so admirable about the work you did for us.'

‘I didn't start the relationship with her till I was sure. Would you pass me a cigarette? Thanks very much.'

Grant didn't show how much he disapproved of smoking. He struck a match and lit Lomax's cigarette. ‘It was a difficult decision to make,' he said. ‘Nobody likes to set a spy on a colleague, especially one like Davina who'd given such excellent service. But we just didn't know if we could trust her.'

Lomax didn't answer for a moment. He drew reflectively on his cigarette. ‘She went into this last operation with a little question mark,' Grant continued. ‘She has come out of it apparently unblemished, with a tremendous success to her credit. You knew what to look for, and didn't find it.'

‘I watched her every inch of the way, and she was faultless.' Lomax took another puff. ‘She never put a foot wrong. She was everything a top operator should be. I hated the whole idea when you told me what I had to do. I didn't want to work with a woman, and I didn't want to act as an informer on someone who thought I was there to protect them. The whole set-up stank to me.'

‘You made that clear.'

‘Then I changed my mind. I found she was marvellous to work with. A real challenge. And I got involved emotionally as well.'

Grant nodded. ‘We were worried about that.'

‘You needn't have been. I was a hundred per cent sure of her then. I still am. You've got nothing to worry about except for one thing.'

‘And that is?'

‘You've been keeping tabs on the wrong person.'

Grant's lips opened as if he were going to speak, then they snapped shut.

‘I've put some facts together. A sort of appendix to my report on Davina. It's in the drawer there. Read it here if you like. I wouldn't take it to your office.'

Grant opened the few sheets of paper. He read what was written slowly and mouthed the words as he did so. Lomax stubbed out his cigarette – he couldn't take more than a few puffs. It was only a nervous habit now, forbidden by his doctors. To encourage him, Davina had given up completely.