Page 36 of The Other Woman


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“Since when do you believe what you read in the newspapers?” Lowering his voice, Bittel added, “Please tell me you weren’t the one who killed him.”

“Why would I kill a mid-level British diplomat?”

“He was no diplomat. He was MI6’s Head of Station in Vienna.”

“And a frequent visitor to your country.”

“Like you,” remarked Bittel.

“Do you happen to know why he was so fond of Bern?”

“There were rumors he was seeing a woman here.”

“Was he?”

“We’re not sure.”

“The NDB never looked into it?”

“That’s not our style. This is Switzerland. Privacy is our religion.” The waitress delivered their coffees. “You were about to tell me,” said Bittel quietly, “why the chief of Israeli intelligence is looking into the death of an MI6 officer. I can only assume it has something to do with that Russian you killed in Vienna a couple of weeks ago.”

“I didn’t kill him, either, Bittel.”

“The Austrians don’t see it that way. In fact, they asked us to arrest you if you happened to set foot in Switzerland, which means you’re in a rather precarious situation at the moment.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“Why change now?” Bittel added sugar to his coffee and stirred it slowly. “You were saying?”

“We’ve had our eye on Hughes for some time,” confessed Gabriel.

“The Office?”

“And our British partners. We followed him here from Vienna on Friday afternoon.”

“Thanks for letting us know you were coming.”

“We didn’t want to be a bother.”

“How many officers did you bring into the country?”

Gabriel lifted his gaze to the ceiling and began counting on his fingers.

“Never mind,” muttered Bittel. “That would explain all the microphones and cameras we dug out of Hughes’s hotel room. It’s quality stuff, by the way. Much better than ours. My technicians are reverse-engineering them as we speak.” Bittel laid his spoon thoughtfully on the table. “I suppose you noticed Hughes meeting with that Russian in the lobby.”

“Rather hard to miss.”

“His name is—”

“Dmitri Sokolov,” interjected Gabriel. “Moscow Center’s man in Geneva.”

“You’re acquainted?”

“Not personally.”

“Dmitri doesn’t exactly play by the rules.”

“There are no rules, Bittel. Not where Russians are concerned.”