The English Girl: A Novel

until there was nothing left. For the record,” he added, “I was against it from the beginning.”
    “Why?”
    “Part of my job as chief of security and operations was to survey the playing field before we made a move on an asset or a drilling contract. My assessment of the situation in Britain wasn’t promising. I predicted that the political tensions between London and Moscow would lead to a rejection of our application to drill off the Western Isles. And, regrettably, I was proven correct.”
    “I take it the president was disappointed.”
    “He was angrier than I’d ever seen him,” Zhirov said. “Mainly because he suspected Viktor Orlov had played a role in it. He called me into his Kremlin office and told me to use any and all means necessary to get that contract.”
    “So you set your sights on Jeremy Fallon.”
    Zhirov hesitated before responding. “You obviously have very good sources in London,” he said after a moment.
    “Five million euros in a Swiss bank account,” said Gabriel. “That’s what you gave Jeremy Fallon to get the contract for
you.”
    “He drove a hard bargain. Needless to say,” Zhirov added, “we were extremely disappointed when he failed to deliver. He said there was nothing he could do. Lancaster and the energy secretary were dead set against the deal. We had to do something to change the dynamic—shape the battlefield, if you will.”
    “So you kidnapped the prime minister’s mistress.”
    Zhirov made no reply.
    “Say it,” said Gabriel, “or we’re going to take another moonlight swim.”
    “Yes,” Zhirov said, looking directly into the camera, “I kidnapped the prime minister’s mistress.”
    “How did you know Lancaster was having an affair with her?”
    “The London rezidentura had been hearing rumors for some time about a young woman from Party headquarters coming to Downing Street late at night. I asked them to press a little harder on the issue. It didn’t take them long to figure out who she was.”
    “Did Fallon know that you were planning to kidnap her?”
    Zhirov shook his head. “I waited until after delivering Madeline’s confession before telling Fallon that we were behind it. I told him to use the opportunity to get the deal done. Otherwise, I was going to burn him, too.”
    “By leaking the fact that he took a five-million-euro bribe from a Kremlin-owned Russian oil company.”
    Zhirov nodded.
    “When were you in contact with him?”
    “I traveled to London while you and your little friend from Corsica were tearing up France looking for her. Lancaster was so incapacitated by stress he told Fallon to do whatever he wanted. Fallon pushed through the deal despite the objections of the energy secretary. Then I initiated the endgame.”
    “The ransom demand,” said Gabriel. “Ten million euros, or the girl dies. And Fallon knew all along that it was nothing more than a charade designed to cover up Volgatek’s role in Madeline’s disappearance.”
    “And his role, too,” Zhirov added.
    “How much did Lancaster know?”
    “Nothing,” Zhirov responded. “He still believes he paid ten million euros to save his mistress and his political career.”
    “Why did you insist that I be the one to deliver the money?”
    “We wanted to have a little fun at your expense.”
    “By killing Madeline in front of me?”
    Zhirov was silent.
    “Say it for the cameras, Pavel. Admit that you killed Madeline.”
    “I killed Madeline Hart,” he recited.
    “How?”
    “By placing her in the back of a Citroën with a gasoline bomb.”
    “Why?” asked Gabriel. “Why did you kill her?”
    “She had to die,” Zhirov said. “There was no way she could be allowed to return to England.”
    “Why didn’t you kill me, too?”
    “Trust me, Allon, nothing would have made us happier. But we thought you were more useful alive than dead. After all, who better to authenticate that Madeline had been killed as part of a garden-variety kidnap-for-ransom scheme than the great Gabriel Allon?”
    “Where’s the ten million euros?”
    “I gave it to the Russian president as a gift.”
    “I’d like it back.”
    “Good luck with that.”
    Gabriel placed the photograph of the luncheon at Les Palmiers on the table again.
    “What’s going on here?” he asked.
    “I suppose you could call it the final stages of a romantic recruitment.”
    Gabriel gave a skeptical frown. “Why would a beautiful young girl like Madeline be interested in a creep like