Page 107 of The Last Kiss Goodbye

‘Now then,’ he said. ‘How can I help?’

Rosamund quickly outlined Elliot and Abby’s Chronicle story about Dominic.

Toby glanced at Abby.

‘Stephen did give me a heads-up that you were looking for some sort of confirmation of Dominic Blake’s involvement with the KGB. He also said that you were in something of a hurry – so I took the liberty of having a ferret about for you.’

Abby and Ros glanced at each other in anticipation.

He opened a drawer and slid a slim file across to Ros. He must have sensed their excitement, because he stood and walked around to her side as Ros opened the file.

‘As you will see,’ he said, ‘the declassification of files is never entirely straightforward.’

Abby peered over Ros’s shoulder and could immediately see that the documents inside were woefully incomplete. The one on top began with a series of inscrutable code designations, then a subject line, Surveillance by XXXXX, 24 October 1958, followed by a dry description: Following information from XXXXX, as detailed in report XXXXX, the subject DB XXXXX was observed leaving his flat in Tavistock Square at 19.23. He then hailed a taxi cab, registration XXXXX. We followed in XXXXX to XXXXX, where he was observed entering the premises at 19.45.

‘A DB who lived in Tavistock Square. Do you think that’s Dominic?’ she asked as she scanned the text.

‘Dominic did have a flat in that square, yes,’ said Ros.

She flipped through the papers, deep in thought.

‘Are all the files like this?’ she asked, with obvious disappointment.

‘It is rather frustrating, isn’t it?’ replied Harding. ‘These documents are released to the public after the prescribed time, but anything the authorities deem sensitive is either withheld or redacted as you see here. So even though we’ve got reports on DB’s movements, as well as transcriptions of his conversations on the telephone or overheard in restaurants, there are huge sections blacked out and we’re left speculating about what has been withheld or withdrawn. Indeed, his very identity.’

‘So they’re not that transparent after all,’ said Abby quickly.

Toby gave a sympathetic shrug.

‘But the fact that a DB of Tavistock Square has been monitored, that there are MI5 files on him at all, is quite revealing.’

The implication of his words settled around the small room.

‘Is there likely to be anything more specific than initials here?’ asked Rosamund, looking up.

‘Possibly,’ nodded Toby.

Ros’s back straightened in her chair.

‘If you persevere, you can occasionally stumble across the odd nugget,’ he added, taking the file from her. ‘There are often inconsistencies, you see, little secrets that slip through the net. Have a look at the back page, for instance.’ He pulled out a single sheet and handed it to her. ‘Portions of this document should have been removed, but for whatever reason, they missed the chop, as it were.’

Abby stared at him.

‘Isn’t that a security blunder?’

Toby nodded again. ‘It’s hardly surprising. There are hundreds of thousands of documents to get through, and to make accurate assessments about which should remain secret would require both a vast knowledge of Cold War espionage and the highest level of security clearance. Anyone fitting that description is hardly likely to be sitting in a basement with a marker pen.’

Abby looked at the page.

Report from agent XXXXX, line tap designation XXXXX.

11 March 1961, intercept 08:40 GMT.

Discussion between Soviet agent EZ and DB. Translation transcript can be found at XXXXX.

‘The translation transcript. Where do you think it could be found?’

‘At the registry, I expect.’