‘You mean he was a double agent?
Victoria smiled and gripped her cane a little harder, her knuckles turning white.
‘Dominic was the perfect English gentleman, but he was also the perfect spy,’ she said slowly. ‘No family, beyond his war-veteran father. Well connected, intelligent, but considered a bit shallow, too interested in the pleasures of the flesh to be taken seriously. He operated very publicly, but completely under the radar. The Soviets thought he was working for them for years. He fed information back to them through contacts in London or through the letter drops at Brompton Oratory.’
‘Letter drop?’ asked Abby.
‘It was a way of transferring intelligence, usually through letters or microfiche. The Oratory was a popular drop-point because people filed in and out all day and it was close to the Russian Embassy.’
Abby watched Ros nod thoughtfully.
‘He was taken into their trust, but that only enabled him to feed information back to MI5,’ continued Victoria, rubbing the handle of her cane.
‘And how do you know all this?’ said Abby, picturing Sean Connery as James Bond.
Victoria laughed.
‘Because I was his handler.’
‘Handler . . .’ said Abby, suddenly remembering Alexei Gorshkov.
‘It was the perfect arrangement. My husband Tony and I could invite all these well-connected and influential people to our gatherings, and Dominic could befriend them and pump them for info.’
‘Was Tony a spy too?’ asked Ros quickly.
‘Heavens, no. I don’t think he ever knew my secret either. I loved him dearly, but he was a dreadful misogynist underneath it all. I don’t think it ever occurred to him that a woman could be so clever.’
She paused and turned to Ros.
‘I know you might think we never saw eye to eye, Ros, but believe me when I say it was nothing personal.’
‘It felt like it,’ whispered Rosamund. ‘I felt as if you wanted to sabotage our relationship.’
‘Dominic was a successful spy because no one ever suspected him,’ said Victoria. ‘But then he starts dating a left-wing radical, and suddenly he’s drawing attention to himself, inviting investigation from British intelligence. At the same time, you, dear Rozzie, get him frozen out of party land, so he’s no use to Moscow.’
‘Do you know what happened to him?’ asked Ros, gripping her old rival’s arm.
Victoria shook her head sadly.
‘We – the more discreet elements of the Security Service – made enquiries after his disappearance. We were told that someone Germanic-sounding had been spotted in the villages around Kutuba asking about the British adventurer. We never found out who it was, but we believe Dominic was assassinated before we could get to him.’
Abby heard Ros give a slow, sad exhalation.
‘But why would he be assassinated?’ she asked quickly.
‘He wanted to leave the intelligence service. Had done for a while, but once he met Ros, he made his mind up that he definitely wanted out. I assume he said this to the Russians too, but I’m not certain how easy it is to leave the KGB.’
‘Surely they wouldn’t have killed him for that?’ said Ros, looking up.
‘No. But they take a more dim view of double agents.’ Victoria’s face was hard, efficient, as if she had turned off her personal feelings like a tap.
‘How did the Russians know he was a double agent?’
She closed her eyes.
‘I ask myself that very same question every single day. Could we have done more to stop the leaks? What more could we have done to protect our colleague, our friend?’
‘So what happened?’ asked Abby.