“Condoms. Rubbers. The man puts one on his—”
“He’s very nice. He’s been taking care of me.”
“He might as well be wearing an Emergency Exit sign. Soon as it’s necessary, you’ll go straight through him. Of course, he hasn’t worked that out yet.” The cigarette between Lamb’s lips rose to point upwards. “Your mother. Alexa Chaikovskaya. She was old school KGB, right?”
“In the secretarial division.”
“And rose to colonel. Shows an admirable dedication to sharpening pencils.”
“She’s in a home now. With nurses, carers. She’s not in good health.” De Greer bit her lip briefly. “They told me she’d be turned out on the street. If I didn’t do what they asked.”
“Impressive,” said Lamb. “The lip chewing. You take lessons, or does it come natural?”
“Fuck you.”
“That’s better. Now, while Sir Galahad’s off imagining all the ways you might fall on his sword, why don’t we drop the crap? You work for Vassily Rasnokov. He dangled you in front of Number Ten’s chief gremlin, who’s just the type to be impressed by the superforecaster credentials, and next thing we know you’re shaping government policy.”
“Shaping?” De Greer shook her head. “I was adding my voice to a prevailing chorus, that’s all. Helping steer Rethink in the direction it was already headed.”
“Course you were.” Lamb rummaged in a pocket and found a disposable lighter. “Sparrow already had it in for the Civil Service, didn’t he, because of the cash mountains waiting for whoever replaces it with private contractors. But a little encouragement never hurts. Set a mole to writing briefs for a cabinet already a few boats short of a ferry company, you’d be entitled to think job done. But Rasnokov’s more ambitious than that, don’t you think?”
“What I think is, you’re not like I’d pictured,” she said.
“Yeah, they photoshopped a thigh-gap in my publicity stills,” said Lamb. “Imagine my distress.” He clicked his lighter, then did it again. When it failed to respond with more than a dry scratch, he tossed it over his shoulder. It took a nick from the wall and dropped to the carpet. “Got a light?”
“Smoking’s a disgusting habit.”
“Spying’s pretty gross too. But I try not to be judgemental.” He found another pocket to rummage in. “So where was I? Oh yeah. Your boss. He was well aware of Sparrow’s general approach. The man calls himself a disruptor, right? Tossing imaginary hand grenades around, and thinking that makes him Action Man. So my first thought was, in planting you, Rasnokov was playing him at his own game. Simply causing chaos. Put you in place, then cause maximum embarrassment by burning you.”
If the words startled her, it was only for a moment.
“Join in any time you like,” Lamb said.
“Are you recording this?”
“Fuck, no. I’m barely paying attention. I mean, you might think you’re the hottest property since Anthony Blunt was keeping Her Maj’s nudes well hung, but I’ve better things to do than debrief entry-level spooks. My lunch won’t eat itself.” From a pocket he extracted a second lighter, which sparked encouragingly, but didn’t hold its flame, and he was about to send it the way of its twin when de Greer relieved him of it. After shaking it vigorously she clicked once, and Lamb leaned forwards, the tip of his cigarette touching the flame.
“Don’t mention it,” she said.
He breathed out smoke. “But when your boss burned you, he did so to the one person guaranteed to keep it under wraps. Sparrow himself. So it’s not like he was running some half-arsed honey trap. Unless you’re about to tell me you’ve a sex-tape ready to leak.”
De Greer tucked the lighter into his breast pocket and stepped back. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Just as well. I leak a bit myself these days, tell you the truth.” Lamb removed his cigarette from his mouth and studied the lit end for a moment. “Even so, your boss’s little bombshell must have had Sparrow shitting himself, which sounds like a good day’s work to me, and we’re not even on the same side. But look what he did next. Came all the way to Blighty to whisper similar sweet nothings in Diana Taverner’s ear.”
“Perhaps he fancies her.”
“Stranger things have happened. For instance, I got a phone call on my way back to the office just now. Want to guess what it told me?”