Read Online The Boat House by Stephen Gallagher - Free Book Online
Authors: Stephen Gallagher
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looking for and was unable to find.
Pavel was calm. He was here, and the hardest part was over; he was on the soil where Alina walked, he breathed the same air again. There was no doubt in his mind that he'd find her. A few hours' sleep, and he'd come up fresh and begin to learn the system around here. They'd no internal passports in this tiny country, but from what he'd seen of this building they had computers the like of which the Leningrad Militia could only dream about. He knew her, he knew her ways, he could guess how she'd operate.
With luck, he might even get to her before somebody else died.
"Look," the Superintendent said, "I only just came on and I can't make head nor tail of this. I don't understand why they sent you."
"I'm the only one who knows what she looks like," Pavel said.
"Couldn't they just have sent us a photograph?"
"There are none." There were none because, after volunteering to bring Alina's file from the records department up to the Chief Investigator's desk, Pavel had quietly removed them in the corridor. "I know her because I'm the one who first arrested her."
He'd been sent to escort her back after that first long-ago attempt to cross the border; and with that, it had begun. Belov had studied her and contrived her release… and for him, it had ended with his body face down in the icy waters of the Neva.
"The best chance would have been to grab her on the way in," the man said. "But it was too late for that. All this business last night was an obvious waste of time; it probably wasn't even her and if it was, she could have had five different rides before daylight. The way I see it now, it's best treated as a problem for Immigration. You say she's got no friends or contacts here so she can't get work, and she can't get money - sooner or later, she's going to surface."
Pavel was nodding.
"So when she does, we'll get in touch. I understand there's a return flight booked for you this afternoon."
For Pavel, it was as if his thoughts had skipped a beat.
"A what?"
"There'll be a ticket waiting at the check-in desk. You've to pick it up and then make yourself known to the check-in supervisor. He'll walk you through the formalities and then he'll sit you somewhere and tell you when it's time to board."
Pavel stared, saying nothing.
The Superintendent said, "I think that's all. Why don't you go and get some breakfast? You look as if you need it."
Pavel couldn't get any breakfast, because he still didn't have any English money. He had ten roubles and some change. Other than that, he had the clothes he was wearing.
And they were sending him home without her.
A couple of people got into the lift as he was riding down. They glanced at him curiously. Both of them got out on the restaurant floor, but Pavel carried on down to the entrance lobby.
There was a Dan Air flight coming in as he crossed the asphalt lot, dropping like a gull with its undercarriage outstretched. He was close enough to hear the skid of rubber on tarmac, and then it was past the building and away out of sight. The grass waved in the morning breeze, the yellow frames of landing lights rising from it at intervals like isolated rigs in a weed choked sea.
He glanced back. One of the bigger vans made an effective screen at the end of a line of the unmarked pool cars, meaning that he could look them over without being seen from the main building. Two of them were locked, including the vehicle in which he'd spent most of the night cruising. The third was locked as well, but the keys were in the tailpipe.
He sat in the driver's seat to get the feel for a few moments before he started it up. A hell of a car. Armrests, and everything. When he switched on the ignition, he saw that the tank was more than three-quarters full. After resetting the rearview mirror, he turned and looked through the back window toward the entrance to the compound. There was a security booth at the gate and a drop-down barrier, but when he'd arrived the booth
Pavel was calm. He was here, and the hardest part was over; he was on the soil where Alina walked, he breathed the same air again. There was no doubt in his mind that he'd find her. A few hours' sleep, and he'd come up fresh and begin to learn the system around here. They'd no internal passports in this tiny country, but from what he'd seen of this building they had computers the like of which the Leningrad Militia could only dream about. He knew her, he knew her ways, he could guess how she'd operate.
With luck, he might even get to her before somebody else died.
"Look," the Superintendent said, "I only just came on and I can't make head nor tail of this. I don't understand why they sent you."
"I'm the only one who knows what she looks like," Pavel said.
"Couldn't they just have sent us a photograph?"
"There are none." There were none because, after volunteering to bring Alina's file from the records department up to the Chief Investigator's desk, Pavel had quietly removed them in the corridor. "I know her because I'm the one who first arrested her."
He'd been sent to escort her back after that first long-ago attempt to cross the border; and with that, it had begun. Belov had studied her and contrived her release… and for him, it had ended with his body face down in the icy waters of the Neva.
"The best chance would have been to grab her on the way in," the man said. "But it was too late for that. All this business last night was an obvious waste of time; it probably wasn't even her and if it was, she could have had five different rides before daylight. The way I see it now, it's best treated as a problem for Immigration. You say she's got no friends or contacts here so she can't get work, and she can't get money - sooner or later, she's going to surface."
Pavel was nodding.
"So when she does, we'll get in touch. I understand there's a return flight booked for you this afternoon."
For Pavel, it was as if his thoughts had skipped a beat.
"A what?"
"There'll be a ticket waiting at the check-in desk. You've to pick it up and then make yourself known to the check-in supervisor. He'll walk you through the formalities and then he'll sit you somewhere and tell you when it's time to board."
Pavel stared, saying nothing.
The Superintendent said, "I think that's all. Why don't you go and get some breakfast? You look as if you need it."
Pavel couldn't get any breakfast, because he still didn't have any English money. He had ten roubles and some change. Other than that, he had the clothes he was wearing.
And they were sending him home without her.
A couple of people got into the lift as he was riding down. They glanced at him curiously. Both of them got out on the restaurant floor, but Pavel carried on down to the entrance lobby.
There was a Dan Air flight coming in as he crossed the asphalt lot, dropping like a gull with its undercarriage outstretched. He was close enough to hear the skid of rubber on tarmac, and then it was past the building and away out of sight. The grass waved in the morning breeze, the yellow frames of landing lights rising from it at intervals like isolated rigs in a weed choked sea.
He glanced back. One of the bigger vans made an effective screen at the end of a line of the unmarked pool cars, meaning that he could look them over without being seen from the main building. Two of them were locked, including the vehicle in which he'd spent most of the night cruising. The third was locked as well, but the keys were in the tailpipe.
He sat in the driver's seat to get the feel for a few moments before he started it up. A hell of a car. Armrests, and everything. When he switched on the ignition, he saw that the tank was more than three-quarters full. After resetting the rearview mirror, he turned and looked through the back window toward the entrance to the compound. There was a security booth at the gate and a drop-down barrier, but when he'd arrived the booth
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