Free A Darker Place by Jack Higgins Page B

don’t know what it is, but I will find out, I promise you, my dear.”
    “So you and Katya will come on board, help us to find a solution?”
    “What else would I do? Alexander is my blood, and blood is everything. Now—I’m an old woman now and haven’t time to waste, so forgive my directness. When Monica was telling us the story, she mentioned General Ferguson and one of his closest associates, a Sean Dillon, who used to be with the IRA.”
    “Yes. When the General persuaded him, if you could call it that, to join the organization, he said it was because he needed someone who could be worse than the bad guys.”
    “I see. And it is this man whom Monica favors?”
    “You could put it that way.”
    “I look forward to meeting him. Kelly flirted with the IRA when he was a student in Dublin. He once said it brought out the romantic in him.”
    “There wasn’t anything in the least romantic about the IRA in Belfast in the years I was there,” he told her.
    “But that is all over now, my dear, a long, long time ago.”
     
     
    THAT EVENING, there was a council of war at Holland Park. Ferguson was there, Roper, Monica, Dillon, and Harry and Billy Salter.
    “This is absolutely top security, this Kurbsky affair,” Ferguson said. “I’m not even informing Lord Arthur Tilsey of the matter. He’s got enough on his plate running the Security Services in place of the late and unlamented Simon Carter.” He turned to Monica. “You haven’t seen your brother since you got back?”
    “No, his doctor wasn’t too happy with him. He’s gone down to Stokely Hall to take it easy for a while.”
    “I must ask you to keep the Kurbsky matter to yourself. It’s absolutely essential if we’re to carry out this operation not only successfully but with total secrecy, as Kurbsky told you he wants.”
    “So I don’t tell my brother?”
    “It’s the name of the game, love,” Dillon said.
    “So we’re it,” Ferguson said. “A nice tight crew, the six of us, and that’s the way we keep it. We handle it, no one else.”
    “What about Svetlana and Katya Zorin?”
    “I classify them as technical backup. I’m particularly interested in the Zorin woman and what she’s said to you. I look forward to hearing from her. You gave Kurbsky your Codex number?”
    “I thought that was okay. I was told it was encrypted.”
    “It is and you did right, but it puts you on the end of the wire. We’re already only twelve days away from when Kurbsky will enter the Élysée Palace to have his Legion of Honor pinned to his manly breast by the French President. When he calls you, Monica, find out when the ceremony is, morning or evening—they do both—how much protection he has, and whether he’s staying at the Russian Embassy or a hotel.
    “I’ll give you a checklist. What are your movements?”
    “Back to Cambridge tomorrow, long weekend, necessary business. I could be back in three days, I think.”
    “I’ll feel more secure when you’re back with us. There’s a real element of danger here.”
    “Look, you don’t need to worry about me, Charles. I’m involved by chance, but this isn’t the first time I’ve been in a dangerous situation. I was at Drumore, remember, during the shoot-out with those IRA thugs. And I killed a man. You were there. He needed killing and I got over it. End of story.”
    “Very civil of you,” Ferguson said. “I think that will do for the moment, people.”
    Harry got up. “Anybody want a bite to eat at the Dark Man? It’s only eight o’clock. Best pub grub in London, and on me.”
    Monica nudged Dillon. He said, “Thanks, Harry, another time. Monica’s got an early start in the morning.”
    “All right, lovebirds. Come on, Billy,” and they left.
    Ferguson was writing away. “There’s your checklist.” He handed it to Monica, and she put it in her purse.
    “We could stop in at that French restaurant in Shepherd’s Market on the way back,” she said to Dillon.
    “Why not.” He