“When you were at Trinity College. She snapped a photo of you walking along Jesus Lane. You were next to the redbrick wall.”
“And she kept it?”
“It was all she had.”
“You’re lying!”
“I can show it to you, if you like. I have your birth certificate, too. Yourrealbirth certificate. The one from Saint George Hospital in Beirut that listed the name of your real father.”
“I never cared for the name Manning. I much prefer Philby.”
“He did a terrible thing to you, Rebecca. He had no right to steal your life and brainwash you into fighting his old wars.”
“No one brainwashed anyone. I adored Kim. Everything I did, I did for him.”
“And now it’s over. Drop the gun,” said Gabriel, “and let me take you home.”
“Moscow is my home,” she declared. “Therefore, I propose a trade. I will give you back your agent, and you will grant me safe conduct to the Russian Federation.”
“Sorry, Rebecca, but that’s a deal I can’t accept.”
“In that case, I suppose your agent and I are going to die here together.”
“Not if I kill you first.”
She gave him a bitter, superior smile. It was Philby’s smile. “You haven’t got it in you to kill a woman, Allon. Otherwise, you would have done it already.”
It was true. Rebecca was several inches taller than Eva and standing behind her on the steeply sloped path. The top of her head was exposed, the shot was there for the taking. The river was flowing at his heels. Slowly, the gun extended, he moved up the path, along the edge of the trees. Rebecca pivoted with him, keeping her gun against Eva’s neck.
Her eyes moved briefly to the base of the sycamore. “I’m surprised it’s still alive.”
“They live for two and a half centuries or so. It was probably here when the British burned the White House.”
“I did my best to finish the job.” Another glance toward the tree. “Do you think it’s still there? The camera that stole a thousand American secrets?”
“Why did you come for it?”
“For sentimental reasons. You see, I have nothing of his. When he died, Rufina and hisrealchildren and grandchildren took all his possessions. But the child of the other woman... she got nothing at all.”
“Put the gun down, Rebecca, and we’ll dig it out together. And then we’ll go to London.”
“Can you imagine the scandal? It will make the Third Man affair seem like—” She twisted Eva’s hair harder. “Perhaps it’s better if the story ends here, down by the river, at the base of an enormous sycamore.”
She was wavering, losing her faith. She looked suddenly very tired. And mad, thought Gabriel. She had ended up like all the rest of Philby’s women.
“How many steps do you think it is?” he asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“To my car,” said Gabriel. “How many steps from the water’s edge to my car?”
“She told you about that, too?”
“How many steps from the Louvre to Notre-Dame?” said Gabriel. “From the Arc de Triomphe to the Place de la Concorde... From the Tour Eiffel to Les Invalides...”
She said nothing.
“Put the gun down,” said Gabriel. “It’s all over now.”
