The Covent Garden market was full of the noise of an amateur opera singer attempting Nessun Dorma backed by an orchestra on cassette. She sang from somewhere beneath the crowd of Christmas shoppers and the buskers trying to entertain them. A man dressed as a Roman centurion stood as still as he could in the cold, waiting for someone to give him money. Someone shouted, and no one listened. James had circled the market twice and could not find a way up to the balcony. He refused to ask anyone the way. Alderman saw him, but did not want to shout down. James felt his phone vibrate and ring.
‘Yes?’ he answered.
‘Go through the pub, the Punch & Judy’ Alderman said.
‘Ok.’ He put the phone back in his pocket and searched for the sign. Finding it, he made his way in and up to the balcony. Alderman was leaning against the rail, sipping from a glass of glühwein. James joined him. They acknowledged each other’s presence but did not exchange words.
‘Fucking outrageous,’ they heard someone near them say, ‘these Russians think they can come over here and kill a guy. I don’t care if he was a spy. This is fucking England.’
Alderman looked at James and smiled, saying in a hushed tone:
‘I don’t think it was the Russians at all.’
James sighed and looked around the market before replying.
‘But he said it was them himself. He said it was Putin that had killed him.’
‘We need to talk to his friend, the man who was with him in the hospital until the end. Can we get to talk to him?’
‘Why?’
‘Because I think, in the hour before he died, our spy realised something. He realised it wasn’t the Russians at all.’
‘And he was too weak to communicate it?’
‘Exactly.’ Alderman paused. ‘Want a glass of glühwein?’
‘No, why are you so cheerful?’
‘Because we’re getting closer.’
‘But everyone else thinks, everyone else knows, it was the Russians.’
‘It isn’t.’
‘How do you know, Alderman? How do you know?’
‘I have a good feeling’ he said, looking at his watch and tapping the dial with his finger. ‘We need to see this man. Can you do it?’
‘I’ll try’ he said. Alderman drank the last of his drink and smacked his lips satisfactorily. ‘And the woman?’
‘I'm not sure, James' he said, suddenly more sincere, 'I'm just not sure. She is in enormous danger. We have to find her soon. We can't let her die - that has to be our only aim.’ He began walking back towards the stairs. ‘I’ll see you in Hampstead later.’
‘Why Hampstead?’ James asked.
‘It’s where our spy’s friend lives.’
‘But I don’t even know if I can get us an interview yet.’
‘I believe in you’ Alderman said, nodding, before disappearing downstairs.
James waited a minute, looking out over the shoppers, until at length he too turned, and left by a different exit.
‘Yes?’ he answered.
‘Go through the pub, the Punch & Judy’ Alderman said.
‘Ok.’ He put the phone back in his pocket and searched for the sign. Finding it, he made his way in and up to the balcony. Alderman was leaning against the rail, sipping from a glass of glühwein. James joined him. They acknowledged each other’s presence but did not exchange words.
‘Fucking outrageous,’ they heard someone near them say, ‘these Russians think they can come over here and kill a guy. I don’t care if he was a spy. This is fucking England.’
Alderman looked at James and smiled, saying in a hushed tone:
‘I don’t think it was the Russians at all.’
James sighed and looked around the market before replying.
‘But he said it was them himself. He said it was Putin that had killed him.’
‘We need to talk to his friend, the man who was with him in the hospital until the end. Can we get to talk to him?’
‘Why?’
‘Because I think, in the hour before he died, our spy realised something. He realised it wasn’t the Russians at all.’
‘And he was too weak to communicate it?’
‘Exactly.’ Alderman paused. ‘Want a glass of glühwein?’
‘No, why are you so cheerful?’
‘Because we’re getting closer.’
‘But everyone else thinks, everyone else knows, it was the Russians.’
‘It isn’t.’
‘How do you know, Alderman? How do you know?’
‘I have a good feeling’ he said, looking at his watch and tapping the dial with his finger. ‘We need to see this man. Can you do it?’
‘I’ll try’ he said. Alderman drank the last of his drink and smacked his lips satisfactorily. ‘And the woman?’
‘I'm not sure, James' he said, suddenly more sincere, 'I'm just not sure. She is in enormous danger. We have to find her soon. We can't let her die - that has to be our only aim.’ He began walking back towards the stairs. ‘I’ll see you in Hampstead later.’
‘Why Hampstead?’ James asked.
‘It’s where our spy’s friend lives.’
‘But I don’t even know if I can get us an interview yet.’
‘I believe in you’ Alderman said, nodding, before disappearing downstairs.
James waited a minute, looking out over the shoppers, until at length he too turned, and left by a different exit.
No comments:
Post a Comment