The Traitor's Story

Finn smiled. It was one of their private jokes—“Jerry de Borg”, their stock invented explanation for everything that went wrong.

“Maybe not, but Jerry de Borg isn’t a powerful Russian.”

Harry laughed again, but then stopped abruptly and stared at Finn in shock.

“You sly bugger!” Finn hadn’t expected him to take even this long to work it out. “It’s you! Jesus, I thought they’d suspect me . . . I suspected Perry, but it’s you.” There was an implicit acceptance in the tone of Harry’s response, the suggestion that the crime had been stripped of all seriousness by Finn’s involvement, but the shock was still there and he shook his head. “You’re the least likely.”

“Because?”

“You don’t speak Russian. You’ve only been here eighteen months, flitting around the Med for five years before that.”

“Which is, of course, where I met him, and he speaks pretty good English.” Finn sat forward in his chair, put his coffee mug back on the tray and said, “Look, Harry, I never sold him anything. We’ve been in business together, and yes, I made things happen, things I’m not going into now, but I never betrayed my country—never, you have to take my word on that. Now, if you want to hand me in, fine, you’re my friend and I’ll accept that, but let me get this girl safe first.”

“I am your friend, so why on earth would I wanna hand you in? If you say you didn’t do anything to damage our country, then I believe you. Just swear to me you didn’t compromise anyone and that’s enough.”

“I swear.”

Harry seemed to accept that, but asked almost as an afterthought, “Why did you do it?”

“Boredom, I suppose.” Harry laughed. “I’m serious, you know. Flitting around the Med, as you described it, all very nice, but I felt like the big game was somewhere else. I met Alex, we had a shared interest in history, he’s a nice guy . . .”

“A nice guy.”

“Actually, yeah. I know his background, I know he’s been ruthless and could be again, but he is a nice guy. And, as embarrassing as it sounds, it was exciting, you know?”

Harry took it all in and sighed. Katerina had been watching them avidly and she looked at Harry now, knowing it was his time to respond, waiting for his words as readily as if she’d understand them.

“So he tipped you off? That’s why you quit?”

“Yeah. The timing could’ve been better. Me and Sofi and all that, but I have to admit, I’d been starting to worry it was bound to catch up with me.” Finn laughed at a reality that still seemed out of kilter with his own view of his actions. “I could go to prison.”

“I doubt that very much.” Harry smiled, his alternate theory not needing to be voiced. Then he looked suddenly decisive, as if it had all been settled. “We’ll sit down and talk about this one day, properly, but our priority now is getting Katerina to safety.” She watched more attentively at the sound of her name. “She can stay here. But the quicker you sort things with Naumenko, the better for all of us.”

“I’ll do my best.” Finn took his wallet out and emptied all the notes onto the table. “Buy her some clothes—she’s got nothing.”

“Put your money away, I can buy—”

“Just in case they’re watching your accounts. I give cash to Sofi all the time, so they’d think nothing of me drawing a few thousand extra krooni here and there.”

“Okay, fair point.”

“Katerina.” She looked at him and he said, “You’ll stay with Harry for a few days.” Harry translated and she nodded as if being given important instructions. “You’ll be safe here, but you mustn’t leave the apartment. Soon, I’ll take you to a Russian friend, a good man who’ll help you. If you want to go home he’ll help you do that.”

Her reply came back, simply put and all the more mournful for it, and Harry translated, “She says she has no home.”

“Then he’ll find a good family for you to go to, or—he’ll help.”

Finn stood up, gesturing for her to stay sitting, but as Harry stood too she said hesitantly, “Finn. Thank . . . Thank you.”

Finn nodded, but at the door he said to Harry, “If there’s a problem, or if you think they’re looking like investigating you—”

“I’ll just point them in your direction.” Harry laughed. “I know, if there’s a problem, I’ll call. But there won’t be. We can do this.”

Finn nodded and thought back to the body in the church, to the blood gulping out onto the floor. He’d seen people killed before, but that made it no less mystifying to contemplate the life he’d ended himself.

“I killed someone, Harry. How about that?”

“Well, you could say you killed someone, could say you saved someone—depends which way you look at it. Just a shame it wasn’t Karasek himself.”

“I’ll leave that job for you.” Finn started to walk along the corridor. “See you tomorrow.”

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