Page 123 of The New Girl

“It means,” said Lavon, “there is no one else visible in the car.”

“What kind is it?”

“A Volvo.”

“Sedan or an estate car?”

The call went dead. It was a sedan, thought Gabriel.

He glanced over his shoulder at Mikhail and Keller. They were sitting at a table in the back corner of the room. At another were two SVR hoods in leather jackets. The Russians watched Rebecca Manning carefully as she entered the café and sat down opposite Gabriel. She looked very English in her dark green Barbour jacket. She placed her phone on the table, along with a packet of L&B cigarettes and an old silver lighter.

“May I?” asked Gabriel.

She nodded.

He picked up the lighter. The inscription was scarcely visible.For a lifetime of service to the motherland...

“Couldn’t they have bought you a new one?”

“It belonged to my father.”

Gabriel glanced at her wristwatch. “And that?”

“It was gathering dust in the SVR’s private museum. I took it to a jeweler and replaced the timepiece. It works quite well, actually.”

“Then why are you ten minutes late?” Gabriel placed the lighter atop her packet of cigarettes. “You should probably put those away.”

“Even at a beach café?” She returned the cigarettes and the lighter to her handbag. “Things are a bit more relaxed in Russia.”

“And your life expectancy rates reflect that.”

“I believe we’ve fallen below North Korea on the latest list.” Her smile was genuine. Unlike their last meeting, which had taken place in a secret MI6 detention center in the north of Scotland, it was all very cordial. “My mother was asking about you the other day,” she said suddenly.

“Is she still in Spain?”

Rebecca nodded. “I was hoping she might settle with me in Moscow.”

“But?”

“She didn’t care for it much when she visited.”

“It’s an acquired taste.”

The waitress was hovering.

“You should order something,” said Gabriel.

“I wasn’t planning to stay long.”

“What’s the rush?”

She ordered akoffie verkeerd. Then, when the waitress was gone, she unlocked her phone and pushed it toward Gabriel. On the screen was a still image of Sarah Bancroft. One side of her face was red and swollen.

“Who did that to her?”

Rebecca ignored his question. “Play it.”

Gabriel tapped theplayicon and listened for as long as he could stomach it. Then he tappedpauseand glared at Rebecca over the tabletop. “I would advise you never to make that recording public.”