Spy Trade: A Spycatcher Novella by Matthew Dunn

Author:Matthew Dunn [Dunn, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers & Suspense, Spies & Politics, Espionage, Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages), Literature & Fiction, Contemporary Fiction, Thrillers
Amazon: B00DB3FS8W
Publisher: Witness Impulse
Published: 2015-08-04T05:00:00+00:00

Signor Gorsky was tasting a glass of Argiano Solengo while listening to Igor Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring on his living room’s CD player. The red wine was an extremely good vintage and had been difficult to obtain. He was pleased that for the most part it met his exacting standards though the taste was not quite right on the receptor cells in the center of his tongue. His telephone rang. He left it unanswered as he never picked up a phone unless he knew exactly who was calling. Before she’d left home to pursue married life, many times his daughter had purchased cell phones for him and showed him how to add contacts so that their names appeared on the screen when they rang. All of the phones were in a drawer, unused.

His housekeeper walked quickly into the room, answered the phone, nodded, and held it toward her boss. “It’s okay, sir. One of your associates.”

The old Russian got to his feet and walked to the phone. “Yes?”

“It’s done. Both business transactions have been successfully executed.”

“Excellent.”

“But there’s a problem. The photograph of old business was not among the paperwork. Maybe it’s been given to someone who shouldn’t have it.”

Gorsky asked, “You’re sure?”

“I checked the case many times. It was possible the photo was on his person, but I didn’t have time to search him. The location was too public. Plus, there was a tall man walking toward the place where it was done. I’d earlier spotted him waiting nearby. There was something about him I didn’t like. It was too risky to hang around.”

Gorsky was silent for five seconds. “We must assume the photo was handed to that person or someone like him. You’re of no use to me now in London. I want you to go to Moscow and keep an eye on the last of them. You know who I’m referring to?”

“Yes. That loose end should have been permanently tied up long ago.”

“Ah, but I am a sentimental when it comes to old memories. But my sentimentality has its limits. Call me again if anything happens. I’ll issue you fresh instructions.”

Gorsky replaced the handset in its cradle, walked back to the sumptuous arrangement of armchairs, rugs, and sofas, and sat down. Stravinsky’s music filled the vast room. He tasted his wine again. It was now perfect. He decided that was because it had been allowed to breathe.

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