The Lubianka, how many people had he sent there himself? Suddenly, Maslovsky found difficulty in breathing and there was a pain in both arms, his chest. He started to fall and clutched at the desk. Andropov jumped back in alarm and the two KGB officers rushed and grabbed Maslovsky’s arms. He didn’t bother to struggle, he had no strength, but he tried to speak as the pain got worse, tried to tell Andropov that there would be no cell in the Lubianka, no state trial. Strangely enough, the last thing he thought of was Tanya, his beloved Tanya seated at the piano playing his favourite piece, Debussy’sLa Mer. Then the music faded and there was only darkness.
Ferguson had a meeting with the Home Secretary, the Commander of Ci3, Scotland Yard’s anti-terrorist squad and the Director General of the Security Services. He was tired when he got back to the flat and found Devlin sitting by the fire readingThe Times.
The Pope seems to be taking over from the Falklands at the moment,’ Devlin said and folded the paper.
‘Yes, well that’s as maybe,’ Ferguson said. ‘He can’t go back fast enough for me. You should have been with me at this meeting I’ve just attended, Liam. Home Secretary himself, Scotland Yard, the Director, and you know what?’ He warmed himself, back against the fire. ‘They aren’t taking it all that seriously.’
‘Cussane, you mean?’
‘Oh, don’t get me wrong. They accept his existence, if you follow me. I showed them the record and his activities in Dublin during the past few days have been bad enough, God knows. Levin, Lubov, Cherny, two IRA gunmen. The man’s a butcher.’
‘No,’ Devlin said. ‘I don’t think so. To him, it’s just part of the job. Something that has to be done. He gets it over with cleanly and expeditiously. He has frequently spared lives over the years. Tanya and myself were a case in point. He goes for the target, that’s all.’
‘Don’t remind me.’ Ferguson shuddered, and then the door opened and Harry Fox came in.
‘Hello, sir. Liam. I believe things have been happening while I’ve been away.’
‘I think one could say that,’ Ferguson told him. ‘Did things go well in Paris?’
‘Yes, I saw Tony. He’s in control.’
‘You can tell me later. I’d better fill you in on the latest events.’
Which he did, as quickly as possible, Devlin occasionally making a point. When Ferguson was finished, Harry Fox said, ‘What a man. Strange.” He shook his head.
‘What is?’
‘When I met him the other day, I rather liked him, sir.’
‘Not a difficult thing to do,’ Devlin said.
Ferguson frowned. ‘Let’s have no more of that kind of bloody nonsense.’ The door opened and Kim entered with tea things on a tray and a plate of toasted crumpets. ‘Excellent,’ Ferguson said. ‘I’m famished.’
Fox said, ‘What about Tanya Voroninova?’
‘I’ve fixed her up with a safe house for the moment.’
‘Which one, sir?’
‘The Chelsea Place apartment. The Directorate supplied a woman operative to stay with her till we get sorted.’
He handed them each a cup of tea. ‘So, what’s the next move?’ Devlin asked.
‘The Home Secretary and the Director, and I must say I agree with them, don’t feel we should make too public an issue of this at the moment. The whole purpose of the Pope’s visit is sweetness and light. A genuine attempt to help bring about the end of the war in the South Atlantic. Imagine how it would look on the front pages of the nationals. The first visit ever of a Pope to England and a mad-dog killer on the loose.’
“And a priest to boot, sir.’
‘Yes, well we can discount that, especially as we know what he really is.’
Devlin said, ‘Discount nothing. Let me, as a not very good
Catholic, fill you in on a few things. In the eyes of the Church, Harry Cussane was ordained priest at Vine Landing, Connecticut, twenty-one years ago and still is a priest. Haven’t you read any Graham Greene lately?’
‘All right,’ Ferguson said testily. ‘Be that as it may, the Prime Minister doesn’t see why we should give Cussane front-page publicity. It won’t do any of us any good.’