People Die

When the two of them set off for their walk a little later, Ed pointed to a part of the garden that sloped down into a small hollow surrounded by trees.

“See there,” he said. “When David and Susan first bought this place there was a swimming hole down there. So when Jem was born he decided it was dangerous and that he was gonna fill it in. One of the neighbors objected, said it would damage the wildlife, but no one could find anything in there, not so much as a frog. Then someone else came forward, said the hole was artificial anyway, dug by the people who had the place before the war, family called Timmins. So he started to fill it in, but the Timminses had chosen a good spot; it was two winters before he finally cracked it.” They’d walk on a way but Ed stopped and turned back to look at it now, saying, “David did a good job too though, never seen it flooded since. No sign at all it was ever there.”

“Nowhere to swim,” said JJ, appreciating how smart it had been to use the phrase.

Ed nodded and said, “It’s something of an in-joke among friends, ’specially people who’ve been here midsummer.”

“It wouldn’t have been Tom who gave away that you were in Vermont?”

“Absolutely not,” Ed answered, leaving no room for doubt. “And if it had been Tom, I hardly think the Russian you dealt with would have been fifteen miles away.”

“True. It’s the way I am, though. I never rule anyone out.” Yet once again the nagging doubt was there, the way he’d almost let Esther get to him. It had been an easy mistake in exceptional circumstances but there was never any excuse, and if Esther hadn’t made mistakes too they’d have still been cleaning bits of his brains from the mosaic floor.

Holden knew nothing about it though, and just as JJ was mentally chastening himself for trusting someone he said, “That’s the smartest way, but in the end it’s the loneliest too. You have to have people you can trust, have to have an instinct for it. Like you, I trust you already, just as much as I trust Tom. I don’t believe it would ever figure in your game plan to double-cross me. It’s who you are.”

JJ laughed a little, taking the compliment but not believing it for a minute. Holden was coming across as too laid-back for someone who’d been in the business that long, JJ certain there were more layers than he’d ever see beneath that easygoing surface.

“Well I’m glad you trust me,” he said. “Now why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

Ed nodded but didn’t say anything at first, waiting as two people passed them on mountain bikes, coming off the woodland trail they were just about to start up. Ed and the cyclists exchanged greetings, and then as they walked on he pointed vaguely at the tree canopies, saying, “In a few weeks there’ll be people like that swarming all over these woods.”

“Yeah, Susan told me. Leaf peepers.”

“Leaf peepers,” Ed repeated, apparently amused by the term. “So you want information.”

“Well, as you just pointed out, I’m too early for the leaf-peeping season.”

Ed laughed again in response, still smiling as he started to speak. “I still have something I need to figure out, but this is how it’s shaping up. David and me went a long way back, similar backgrounds. We started a business venture buying art in Russia, selling it here, mainly for David—he liked the excitement.” JJ smiled, thinking of how much excitement Bostridge had ended up getting, and as if thinking along the same lines Ed said, “Quite. The thing is, David was never a company man or anything, but he started to get involved with little bits of company business here and there, you know, like carrying messages, information. It was all a game to him, like being in a James Bond movie.”

“It certainly has a familiar ring to it.”

“It gets more familiar. A couple of years ago it seems David crossed some boundaries and it goes down that London wants him removed. Berg’s pulling the strings and, cautious as ever, he decides to run it past me first. Not like I have a veto, just to keep everything sweet.”

“You knew Bostridge was gonna be killed?”

Ed nodded and said, “From the first time he went to Moscow I knew he’d end up taking a bullet. It still came as a shock, ’specially that it was us doing the killing.” He fell silent for a couple of paces, either trying to work something out or just lost in thought, pulling himself back after a moment or two. “So anyway, I wanted him to be taken down by someone decent, someone I knew would do it properly, quickly. I insisted on you or Lo Bello. Berg said he could get you. So that’s why it’s my fault you’re involved, why I felt obliged to help.”