The Abigail Affair (34 page)

“Krigov grunted and said that Haase was out of hospital, had made a miraculous recovery, was fighting fit and had discharged himself, and he would go along with me and a couple of others to provide the muscle. That was news to me, and gave me the first indication that Ivan had not been levelling with us. The story we’d been told about Haase and his appendicitis was clearly not true.

“I wondered if they were planning to interrogate you, even kill you. Everything was spinning out of control. So, as a precaution, I called the St Helen’s police, emailed them your picture and description, and said that you were a fugitive, drug runner, and illegal immigrant who had slipped away from the yacht in the night and represented a danger to the public.”

“Thanks.”

“I reasoned you would be safe in the custody of the St Helen’s Police and I could get you off the scene for good—if only locked up in a police cell until the operation finished. Or Smithers would pick you up, which he did. Eventually. God, you Brits move slowly.

“But you ingeniously gave the cops the slip. I managed to call them again from the warehouse, and they arrived just in time. But of course, I couldn’t really explain how the police had found you. I spun a gold-plated web of bullshit. Haase went along with it until we got back to the ship. They escorted me back on board, and that’s when I realised it had all gone pear-shaped, as you Brits put it. Haase bundled me into Krigov’s private quarters. Krigov was in his office den with Walther Spiegl. They were both sitting in leather armchairs, very chummy. Krigov just looked up and said, ‘Sorry, Julia. It’s not going to happen like we planned.’ Walther Spiegl seemed to be in charge now. He said to Haase, ‘Take her away and give her a good hiding.’ Which Haase happily did, and greatly enjoyed his work.”

“I will personally kill Haase and push his ugly nose out the other side of his head,” Toby said through gritted teeth. And he meant it.

“Then they brought me here. They swept this cabin for devices, but there weren’t any, of course. I have an Iridium satellite phone in my cabin, and several cell phones—there’s even a single sideband shortwave radio fitted in there. But we can’t get to them, even if they’re still there and working, which I doubt.

“After Haase beat me up, Krigov came to see me and said again he was sorry, and announced calmly that a nuclear device had been planted on the sea bed some distance offshore and would be detonated today. He said it was quite safe; there would be little risk to the island. He was trying to justify his actions. He wouldn’t elaborate, though. He left after a few minutes and I’ve been here since then, cooling my heels until they showed up with you.”

“There’s still so much I don’t understand,” Toby said. “Like, who killed Irina? Why was I framed for it? Why did you let Krigov bundle me in the RIB with the corpse? What really happened to the other girl, Natasha? Who else is on board the yacht now, and why aren’t they raising the alarm—they can’t all be in on it. And that’s just off the top of my head.”

“I don’t have all those answers, and anyway, there’s no time to explain,” Julia said. “Listen, someone’s coming.”

Sure enough, when Toby paused to draw breath, he heard footsteps approaching down the corridor. He tensed. This was it. “What’s our strategy, then?” he asked.

“Stay alive. Discover Krigov and Spiegl’s intentions. Achieve the original objective—find the end buyers of the enriched uranium and now presumably the working nukes. Get off the ship in one piece. Communicate with our people. Put the bad guys in the slammer where they belong. Take all the dangerous stuff to safety.”

“Right-oh. And just how do we go about doing that?”

“No idea. Except they want us alive to do something. That gives us an advantage. And let’s keep asking questions. Sometimes they answer, just to brag.”

“OK. One last thing. Can I date you once this is over?”

Julia patted her tangled, blood-matted hair. “Looking like this? I admire your persistence, Toby, but your timing isn’t great. Ask me again once we’re out of this. But I advise you not to get your hopes up.”

Toby said, “I need a goal to get me through. One date. Please.”

“OK. But it doesn’t mean I’m going to be your girlfriend or anything. And don’t ask me to jump into bed with you on that date.”

“Of course not,” lied Toby happily.

The key turned in the lock and the door opened.

Haase stood in the entrance. “It’s time,” he said.

Julia stood with some difficulty. Her eyes flashed hatred. “Where are you taking us?” she asked.

“To do some work. Hands up and stand still.” They complied. The man frisked each of them. His hands probed Toby’s body expertly and minutely. His touch was loathsome. He paid particular attention to Toby’s groin and buttocks.

“I’ve got no weapon,” Toby protested. “Get your filthy groping hands off my bum.”

“Now the girl.” He repeated the exercise with Julia. She cried out in pain as he probed her midriff. “Nearly finished, honey,” he said. Then, “We’re going up to the sundeck. Keep your hands above your heads.”

“Good, I need a bit of sun,” Toby said cheerfully, as if making light conversation. “Who else is on board—have we got the full crew back now?”

“No one to help you, if that’s what you’re thinking. Just me, Krigov, Spiegl and you two. Nice and cosy.”

That’s the first piece of vital information
, Toby thought.

They set off in the direction of the sundeck, Julia in the lead, Toby behind, barefoot, and Haase bringing up the rear. “Where are the others, then?” Toby persisted. It was strangely difficult to walk on a boat with your hands in the air. Although the yacht was at anchor, it still moved almost imperceptibly—enough to throw you off balance without a handhold.

“We gave them all the day off and booked them into the New Year’s Eve party at the Grand Beach Resort. Aren’t we kind! No one around to come to your rescue, though.”

“What—the captain, Timmins, Chef—the lot of them? Who’s on watch?” Toby asked. “New Year’s Eve means all kind of nutters will be around.”

He got no reply. Julia came to a closed door. She looked back at Haase, who nodded. She opened it and stepped over the threshold. Toby followed, encouraged by a poke in the small of the back from Beaky.

They were on the sundeck. The sun was dropping fast towards the horizon.

The pool was open. Where before there had been an expanse of teak deck, now a sheet of blue water shimmered in the evening sun. Red rays reflected in the water. A bulbous, transparent inflatable armchair floated at one side of the pool, one of those kitsch ones with a drinks holder in each arm.

A random thought popped into Toby’s head.
The man has money, but no taste
.

The putting green had been in use. One of the flags was out of its hole and lying on its side, and two pairs of putters lay crossed on the artificial turf nearby.

Ivan Krigov and the man who called himself Walther Spiegl sat at a round patio table under a huge green cantilevered parasol, for all the world like two tourists newly arrived at an all-inclusive hotel. Spiegl wore tailored white shorts and a blue polo-neck shirt. Krigov looked even scruffier than usual. His shorts were creased and grubby, and his floral shirt was unbuttoned to the waist, revealing lots of chest hair. He was barefoot, like Toby.

On the patio table between the two men was a bulky mobile phone. It had a rubberised, waterproof look to it, with bigger buttons and knobs than a regular cell phone.

Krigov looked up at their approach. Toby could read body language well, and he saw that Krigov was weary and drained. His shoulders drooped. The past days seemed to have taken their toll on him. No longer was he the strutting, bragging, bumptious billionaire.

Without a doubt, Walther Spiegl was the man in charge.

Chapter 36

Spiegl said, “Toby, Julia, thank you for joining us. Come. Sit. Haase will even fetch you a drink if you like. He’s no barman, mind you. And I think we should all refrain from alcohol at this time.”

“We’re OK,” Julia said. “Just get on with it.” She pulled out a chair and sat with difficulty. Clearly, she’d suffered an even worse beating than she had admitted to Toby, who felt his heart rate pick up as he joined them at the table.

Spiegl said, “Here’s the position. There is no one else on board. We have important business to transact. You can cooperate, in which case, you will both be able to leave the vessel and return to your home countries and your loved ones as heroes. Or you can refuse to cooperate, in which case, you will bring devastation on to your own heads and very likely provoke events which will have fatal consequences for thousands, maybe millions of your fellow countrymen, not to mention the happy people of these pleasant islands in the sun. Now do I have your complete and undivided attention?”

“Why did you set off a nuclear device?” demanded Toby.

“I’ll come to that. Be patient. I am setting the scene.” The man’s earlier diffidence had completely gone. Now he exuded the intensity and authority of a man in control. “As regards security here on board, Haase is an expert at unarmed combat. He also has a powerful handgun with a silencer and is an excellent shot. If you attempt anything, he will restrain you, and in the process, probably break off one of your fingers, or dislocate your shoulder, or something unpleasant along those lines. The details I leave to him.” Toby turned to look at Haase. The man’s pockmarked face split in another of his leering grins. He would certainly enjoy such duties.

Spiegl continued, “As a last resort, he may shoot you somewhere extremely painful but not immediately fatal, but I think he would see this as a personal failure and would prefer not to. Now, I know the two of you quite well, I believe. You will want to try something. For example, you may decide to run to the ship’s rail, wave your hands and start screaming in the hope of attracting someone on another yacht. From this high up, no one will hear you, so I don’t think you will get far, and they will probably just think you are drunk. But I advise you not to try such a thing. Or at least, I ask you, please, to listen to what we have to say first. I believe you will want to cooperate. Also, time is pressing and any antics will delay proceedings. Now, do we have a deal?” He peered through his round spectacles at Toby and then Julia, for all the world like a bank manager chewing out an overdrawn customer.

“Of course,” Julia said. “Tell us what you want and we’ll try to help you.”

Good girl
.
Humour the bastards!

“Sure thing.” Toby said. “I don’t want a beating. So, shoot. Or rather, don’t shoot – talk. Sorry. I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

Krigov spoke for the first time. “Toby Robinson, you are priceless, I think the saying goes. I regret very much that you have been involved. It was not my intention. Quite the reverse. Do as my fellow countryman here says, and you can perform a service for your own country and leave unharmed.”

Toby didn’t believe a word of this. But despite the obvious danger he and Julia were in, he felt curious, rather than frightened. What possible use could he and Julia be, except as hostages?

Sitting around the round teak table, the four of them could have been conference delegates conducting a business meeting by the pool before a seminar.

It was totally surreal.

Spiegl continued, “The device we detonated on the seabed at 3.10pm was a demonstration. I have to say, it was impressive. This island’s communications have been disabled, and its tourist industry set back ten years, once the world realises what has happened. But of course, the fear factor is more important.”

He turned to address Toby. “We have laid four other identical devices. I will not divulge their exact locations, to you or anyone. Be assured that they target US and British interests in this part of the world. Military installations. Financial centres. International universities and medical schools. You get the idea.

“The detonation of these devices will be a catastrophe for the Caribbean region, of course. But the wider damage will be the political uncertainty that follows. In particular, the nuclear arms race will be reignited, the Americans will elect the hardest right-wing president that they can find this November, the War on Terror will be resumed, and politically-minded pressure groups the world over will know that there is a market in workable nuclear devices that can be used for specific tactical purposes.”

“How does that benefit you?” Toby asked. “Everyone will know you are behind this. You’ll be hunted down and in jail in weeks. Probably Guantanamo Bay. Or whatever the new version is called.”

“Ivan may suffer that fate. I will disappear into the night. No one even knows my real name. Correct, Julia?”

“Correct.”

“Ivan is, I agree, somewhat higher profile. But he has gladly taken on the mantle and will face the consequences.”

“Why?” Julia asked. “Ivan, what is the meaning of this madness? Even if you kill me and Toby, everyone will know you are responsible. You can hardly slip away on the
Amelia
.”

Krigov raised his head, and Toby saw that there were tears in his eyes. “It is a fair price to pay,” he said.

“A fair price? You have such a hatred of the West that you will do this, even though you are certain to be brought to justice?”

Krigov spoke in a soft, defeated voice. “They have my son, David. This is the price of his life.”

There was silence for several seconds.

“You have David? He’s alive?” Julia addressed Walther with incredulity evident in her voice.

“Oh, yes. We took him cleanly and quickly, three years ago, from his father’s mansion in London. And we got even luckier. He was entertaining a young lady model at the time, and with her help, we caused a little extra, unplanned mayhem for the Krigov clan.”

“Why must you use euphemisms? You cut her throat,” Krigov said.

“Not personally,” Spiegl said. “That duty fell to hired hands. Unfortunately for her, the model girl was ideally placed to help our cause. There are plenty more pretty young women to take her place.”