Finn shook hands again and left, stopping only to get his backpack from Valentin. He felt as if the world had tilted on its axis, as if nothing made sense anymore, as if his whole life had added up to nothing.
And a part of him was still clinging stubbornly to the belief that Sofi wouldn’t do this to him, that she loved him as he loved her, and that Alex, even with all his resources, had to be mistaken. Whether or not, Finn had to get back to Tallinn, urgently. He had to get back, no matter what the truth that awaited him there.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The last time he’d flown into Heathrow, he’d sworn he would never do it again. He’d taken the train and the Eurostar on every subsequent trip back to England, but here he was again passing through the seven circles of hell. It at least served the purpose of reminding him why he loved history so much.
He’d called Alex before booking his flight, making sure he was in London, but when he got to the hotel the concierge said, “There’s a message for you, Mr. Harrington.”
It was from Alex, giving him an address in Mayfair. Finn stowed his bag in his room and jumped in a cab.
It was a fine-sized townhouse, but from the outside at least, it looked a lot smaller than the place in Kensington. He rang the bell, and almost immediately a young guy in a suit, looking for all the world like a member of staff in a trendy design hotel, opened the door.
Finn didn’t recognize him, but the young guy spoke in a faint Russian accent, saying, “Good afternoon, Mr. Harrington. Mr. Naumenko is expecting you.”
He was taken through to a living room, furnished entirely in white, where Alex was sitting watching the BBC news channel on a wall-mounted TV. At the sight of Finn, he hurried to turn it off and jumped up, coming over and hugging him as he said, “Finn, great to see you!” He stood back, smiling. “You’re looking very well indeed.” His English had always been good, but now there was almost no Russian lilt at all.
Alex was tanned, lean, and fit as ever, more relaxed than Finn had ever seen him. Last time they’d met, his hair had been graying, but now it was a uniform natural-looking brown.
Was he still dangerous? Did he even need to be anymore? Of course, Finn had never seen him like that anyway—their friendship had always been too good, their business partnership even better.
“You’re looking pretty good, too, Alex. The new girlfriend?”
“Not so new anymore. Three years now, and yes, we’re very happy.” The guy who’d opened the door was still standing, awaiting instructions, and Alex turned to him now and said, “Champagne, I think. We’ll take it in the study.”
The guy nodded and disappeared.
Finn followed Alex out of the room and said, “What brought about the move? I thought you loved the place in Kensington.”
“It’s being remodeled. I bought this place so we don’t have to be around all the noise and disturbance. I should have told you—I imagine you’re at The Halkin.”
Finn nodded.
“I should have thought, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not far.”
They reached the study, and Alex stepped aside for Finn to go in first.
“As a matter of fact, you’re lucky to catch me—we’re flying out tomorrow. Can we give you a ride anywhere?”
“I doubt it, not unless you’re going to Helsinki.”
“Intriguing,” said Alex, smiling, trying to guess what Finn might be up to. “But no, wrong direction. Okay, we’ll talk business after the champagne comes, but for now I need you to do something for me.” He walked over to one of the bookshelves and took down Finn’s three published books in hardback. “It’s very good of your publisher to send them to me, but please, you must sign them.”
As it happened, Finn had never told his publishers about Alex, knowing it was a friendship they would have wanted to exploit for its publicity value. Finn had sent the books himself on his various visits to London.
“Of course.” Alex placed them on the desk and handed him a pen. As Finn signed, he said, “Did you enjoy them?”
“Very much. I knew I would. What are you working on now?”
“Well, as it happens, I haven’t done very much work on it this last week or so, but I’m writing a book about the Cathars, focusing on the siege of Béziers.”
Alex smiled and nodded his approval. “Yes, I know a little about it. They destroyed the whole town for refusing to give up a handful of heretics.”
“That’s the one. I’m glad to see you’re still interested in history.”
“A man needs a hobby, Finn, and all the best football teams have been taken.”
The young guy came in with the champagne in an ice bucket and a couple of glasses on a silver tray. He opened the bottle, poured them both a glass, and left.
Alex raised his glass. “To old times.”
“To old times,” said Finn.
“Come, please.” He gestured across the room to two large sofas facing each other. As they sat down, he said, “And last time we met you also had a new girlfriend. Adrienne?”
“Yeah, we’re still together.”