Liz Carlyle - 07 - The Geneva Trap by Stella Rimington Read Free Book Online Page B

know.’
    Liz nodded. She saw that Sorsky had his hands clasped tightly together now, perhaps to keep them from shaking. ‘How can we contact you?’ she asked.
    ‘You can’t.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Tell your colleague Mr Russell White to continue to play tennis on Mondays and Wednesdays; I will make the arrangements through him when I am ready. But I will not deal with his partner Terry Castle. He is too young to be reliable.’
    So Sorsky knew Castle’s name; clearly, Russian intelligence in Geneva was on the ball. In an effort to reduce the tension, she said, ‘Russell White told me he’s getting fitter from playing so much tennis.’ She paused a moment, then added, ‘You know, he is a senior member of his Service and it might make sense for you to meet him next time. He is based here.’
    ‘No!’ Sorsky’s voice was sharp. ‘The information I give you needs to be investigated in the UK. It would be coming to your Service in any case. So better to deal direct with an officer of MI5 – and one I have known for a long time.’ He smiled at her briefly.
    Liz said nothing. Sorsky sighed. ‘You have not escaped my attention since we met so many years ago in Bristol. I have followed your career with interest. I heard that your work with Brunovsky was noteworthy.’
    Liz was amazed that he knew about that operation. Several years ago she had joined the household of a Russian oligarch in London, who had asked for protection. But it had turned out that he was very far from needing protection, and it was Liz herself who was in danger.
    Recovering her cool, she said, ‘Noteworthy is one way of putting it.’ As far as she was concerned that case had ended in a debacle. She had done her best, but it hadn’t been good enough.
    Sorsky sat up, pushing his back against the bench and stretching as though throwing off a burden. ‘I will leave first. You wait a few minutes and then go out through the gates to Place Neuve.’
    ‘Okay.’
    ‘I will say goodbye for now.’ He stood up, without looking at her.
    ‘Goodbye, Alexander, à bientôt ,’ she said, and she watched him as he strode off towards the university buildings.
    Liz gave him three minutes, then rose to her feet and walked towards Place Neuve. Dusk was falling, and the oversized chessmen had been returned to the board’s back rows – the game was over. Cars in the Place had their lights on, and the pavements around the square were full of couples bustling off to restaurants or the theatre.
    How, among the flurry of movement, Liz managed to spot the man who half an hour before had been buying a newspaper at the kiosk across the crazy confluence of streets, she didn’t know. But she was certain it was the same man – he still wore a yellow sweater – and she was troubled by what she didn’t believe was a coincidence. She was even more troubled when she saw another man on the steps of the Grand Théâtre across the street. The overcoat was missing, and so was the jacket he’d worn in the Place du Bourg-de-Four. But the width of his shoulders and the stocky build were still the same.

Chapter 10
    Liz flew out early the next morning. She had stayed the night in a small, elegant hotel near the Embassy, though she had barely had enough time to appreciate her room’s décor before falling asleep, utterly exhausted. After leaving Sorsky she had gone back to the Embassy to brief Russell White and Terry Castle, and by the time they had gone over every detail and sent off a message to Vauxhall Cross, it was midnight.
    One thing had continued to trouble her. At the end of the session, she had tackled White about it. ‘I asked for no surveillance of the meeting, but I’m pretty sure there were people around. Was it your lot?’
    White looked uncomfortable. ‘I’m sorry. Orders from Vauxhall Cross, I’m afraid – they insisted we keep an eye on you. But I am very surprised you saw him. He was convinced he hadn’t been spotted.’
    Liz shook her head. She