Wombat took an envelope from his jacket pocket.

‘We have something else you may be interested in, journalism-wise,’ he said. ‘You recall Ivan “the Terrible” Serov?’

‘You mean the ex-KGB and later GRU chief ?’

‘You wrote a bit about him in the early 1990s when you interviewed KGB master spy Yuri Modin.’

‘Serov was Modin’s boss. Modin hated him.’

‘Well, gorgeous Ivan’s diaries have been found.’

‘Oh?’

‘Apparently when the Russian intelligence services dumped him, he cemented the diaries into the wall of the garage at his Moscow dacha way back in 1971.’

‘As you do.’

‘His granddaughter discovered them when she was having the garage demolished. Some of the diaries were published in Russian in an obscure military museum. The Russian government has since stopped the publication, but not before our friends at MI6 obtained a copy. It has a complete translation. They’d make interesting reading, don’t you think?’

‘Very.’

‘We can get you access, if you wish to see them.’

‘Of course I would. Remember, I’m freelance now. Have to grab the big stories where I can. Do you know of anything juicy in the diaries?’

‘We believe he’s said that the French third Baron Bleulance was a KGB agent.’

‘Bleulance? His son is the fourth baron who has a controlling interest in Conquer, which is Al Haut’s nemesis.’ Cavalier paused and added, ‘I can feel a trip to London coming on.’

PART THREE: VISION FOES

PART THREE

VISION FOES

20 THE FOURTH BARON BLEULANCE

20

THE FOURTH BARON BLEULANCE

Cavalier flew to London, booked into a serviced apartment close to Notting Hill Gate and a day later took public transport to MI6’s headquarters on the Thames. He had access because of his long links to a senior MI6 operative and the added recommendation of ASIS. Yet he still underwent a thorough search and was ushered through a metal detector. His phone and notebook computer were removed.

Cavalier had a quick debriefing from archivists who quizzed him about his intentions. He was joined by his best British Intelligence contact, Liam Hunter, a lean fifty-year-old former London squash champion. He had been born and educated in Sydney but had moved into British Intelligence after graduating with an Arts Honours degree in languages: Russian, Mandarin and Arabic. Hunter was a dapper dresser, which was his rebellious act within the staid intelligence world, which abhorred any form of showiness, it was said, because people in their employ should stay grey, unmemorable and anonymous. Hunter’s manner seemed introverted and secretive, befitting his position. But his youthful background as an extroverted Australian with a love of surfing had never left him. It was always refreshing for him to chat with Cavalier, with whom he opened up.

Hunter disappeared after introducing Cavalier to a tall, black librarian calling herself Emma. He learnt in their brief conversation that she had a double degree from Cambridge in languages.