Scorpia

Gregorovich told me.” Alex paused. This was the moment he had been dreading. This was the reason he was here. “Was he an assassin?” he asked.
    But Mrs Rothman didn’t answer. Her gaze had drifted away. “You met Yassen Gregorovich,” she said. “Was it he who led you to me?”

    “I was there when he died.”
    “I was sorry about Yassen. I heard he’d been killed.”
    “I want to know about my father,” Alex insisted. “He worked for an organization called Scorpia. He was a killer. Is that right?”
    “Your father was my friend.”
    “You’re not answering my question,” he said, trying not to get angry. Mrs Rothman seemed friendly enough but he already knew that she was very rich and very ruthless. He suspected that he would regret it if he got on the wrong side of her.
    Mrs Rothman herself was perfectly calm. “I don’t want to talk about him,” she said. “Not yet. Not until I’ve had a chance to talk about you.”
    “What do you want to know about me?”
    “I know a great deal about you already, Alex. You have an amazing reputation. That’s the reason why we’re sitting here tonight. I have an offer to make, something that may startle you. But I want you to understand, right from the start, that you’re completely free. You can walk away any time. I don’t want to hurt you. Quite the opposite. All I’m asking is that you consider what I have to say and then tell me what you think.”
    “And then you’ll tell me about my dad?”
    “Everything you want to know.”
    “All right.”
    Mrs Rothman had finished her champagne. She gestured with one hand and immediately a waiter appeared to refill her glass. “I love champagne,” she said. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind?”
    “I don’t drink alcohol.”
    “That’s probably wise.” Suddenly she was serious. “From what I understand, you’ve worked for MI6 four times,” she began. “There was that business with the Stormbreaker computers. Then the school they sent you to in the French Alps. Then you were in Cuba. And finally you crossed paths with Damian Cray. What I want to know is, why did you do it? What did you get out of it?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Were you paid?”
    Alex shook his head. “No.”
    Mrs Rothman considered for a moment. “Then … are you a patriot?”
    Alex shrugged. “I like Britain,” he said. “And I suppose I’d fight for it if there was a war. But I wouldn’t call myself a patriot. No.”
    “Then you need to answer my question. What are you doing risking your life and getting injured for MI6?
    You’re not going to tell me it’s because you’re fond of Alan Blunt and Mrs Jones. I’ve met both of them and I can’t say they did anything for me! You’ve put your life on the line for them, Alex. You’ve been hurt—nearly killed. Why?”
    Alex was confused. “What are you getting at?” he demanded. “Why are you asking me all this?”
    “Because, as I said, I want to make you an offer.”
    “What offer?”
    Mrs Rothman ate some of her ravioli. She used only a fork, cutting each pasta envelope in half, then spearing it with the prongs. She ate very delicately, and Alex could see the pleasure in her eyes. It wasn’t just food for her.
    It was a work of art.
    “How would you like to work for me?” she asked.
    “For Scorpia?”
    “Yes.”

    “Like my father?”
    She nodded.
    “You’re asking me to become a killer?”
    “Perhaps.” She smiled. “You have a great many skills, Alex. For a fourteen-year-old you’re quite remarkable—
    and, of course, being so young, you could be very useful to us in all sorts of different ways. I imagine that’s why Mr Blunt has been so keen to hang on to you. You can do things and go places that an adult can’t.”
    “What is Scorpia?” Alex demanded. “What were you doing at Consanto? What is Consanto? What were they making in that complex? And why did you have to kill Dr Liebermann?”
    Mrs Rothman finished eating her first course and laid down her fork. Alex found himself hypnotized by the diamonds around her neck. They were reflecting the light from the candles, each jewel multiplying and magnifying the yellow flames.
    “What a lot of questions!” she remarked. She shrugged. “Consanto Enterprises is a perfectly ordinary biomedical company. If you want to know about them, you can look them up in the phone book. They have offices all over Italy. As to what we were doing there, I can’t tell you. At the moment