Miro lit his cigarette. “I don’t understand why you are being so secretive. What the hell is in these boxes? Must be something of value obviously. Why won’t you tell me?”
Kowalski looked out into the tiny gardens of the two-up two-downs running along the railside. He might as well tell him, he thought. When they were at his cousin’s place, it would probably become clear enough anyway. “You are an inquisitive soul, Miro, aren’t you? Always pestering me with questions. Very well, it is gold bullion. From the home country. It was stored in a building that was bombed and moved to a private house. Now it’s thought safer that it goes to the bank. Is that clear enough for you? We are going to my friend’s house to keep an eye out, just in case anything goes wrong.”
Miro blew a smoke circle towards the ceiling of the compartment, of which they were the sole occupants. “Gold, eh?” He licked his thick lips.
*
The rain was pattering rhythmically on the window panes of Merlin’s office as Johnson entered. Merlin was trying as ever to sort out the newly accumulated clutter on his desk. After a moment, he stopped, seemingly satisfied, though to Johnson’s eye it still looked a mess.
“How’s Cole doing, sir?”
“He’ll be alright. It’s only a flesh wound. Then again the doctors said mine was a flesh wound, but it’s still giving me gyp.”
“Sorry to hear that, sir.” Johnson took a seat. “I’ve got some interesting information.” He paused to rub his eyes, which were still red and stinging from the previous night’s fire and smoke. “That chap Evans.”
“Oh, yes? I meant to ask. What happened to him?”
“When he ran to get the ambulance for Cole he got hit by some falling masonry. After you went off with Cole, Stewart found him.”
“Is he dead?”
“No, he was lucky. Just a concussion and a broken bone or two. He’s in the hospital now. The point is that when Stewart found him and he had come round, he was a bit fevered and was going on about relieving his conscience. Said he knew who the looters were. Names of Jake and Billy.”
“How on earth…?”
“Apparently, Evans had been asked to value some paintings and other valuables. He’s some kind of art expert by training. A Russian friend of a friend had recruited him. He now realises that these items must have been looted by these fellows Jake and Billy who were in the Russian’s employ.”
“And you got all of this from Jack?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did he have a name for the Russian?”
“Trubetskoi. What is more, when Evans became suspicious, he followed him home one time to a property near Eaton Square. He managed to give Stewart the address.”
Bridges appeared at the door. “Ah, Sergeant, just the man. Anything back from Five yet on that Russian?”
“No, sir. They’ve been their usual unhelpful selves. Said they’d get back to us, but haven’t. It may not matter anyway.”
“How so?”
“Robinson managed to dig up Voronov’s address through someone she knows at the Home Office. He’s a registered alien. Has a big house off Eaton Square. I have the address.”
“Where is Robinson?”
“I let her go and see Cole at the hospital on condition she gets back within the hour.”
“Alright. Well, the Inspector has another address off Eaton Square. I wonder if they match?”
*
“Honest, guv. You’re going to have to pay up a large amount of dosh, if you want help with this. Everything is getting far too close to the knuckle, ain’t it, Billy? Look, see how his hands are shaking – not one for nerves normally, are you, Billy?”