Part the Sixth

Alderman and James sat at a table in the corner, by a latticed window overlooking Hampstead Heath. The pub had low wooden beams overhead, and flagstones underfoot. It was filled with the smoke of late afternoon drinkers.
     ‘We need to go to that sushi bar’ Alderman said, before taking a sip of his beer.
     ‘The police have already been over it’ James replied.
     ‘I know. But they missed something. Don’t forget, they still think it was the Russians.’
     ‘And so did he. So did his best friend.’
     ‘That’s exactly what troubles me. Why would the Russians let him talk? If they wanted him to die, they would have killed him. Someone wanted him to die slowly, to talk.’
     ‘And they knew his first instinct would be to blame the Russians?’
     ‘Precisely. Whoever killed him wanted him to say that. It can’t have been them.’
     ‘What about the woman, Alderman? I thought she was our main concern.’
He did not reply, brought his glass to his lips, then lowered it again.
     ‘I know. I know. But we can’t seem to get near her. All we have is this spy, and how and why he died. We have to get past him. I think the sushi bar is the answer.’
James shook his head and look down into his drink.
     ‘We know nothing about her. We’re getting no closer. And I’m supposed to be back at the newspaper this afternoon.’
     ‘Why do people kill, James?’ Alderman asked. James laughed, and did not offer a reply. ‘I’m serious. Premeditated murder I mean. They kill because of information. That’s all.’
     ‘Then what does she know, or not know, about the killer?’
     ‘It should be easy.’
     ‘Well, how? What do we do? Where do we start?’ James asked, getting frustrated. Alderman finished his beer calmly, and then replied:
     ‘Fancy some raw fish?’