to leave his own country and live somewhere else,” Murray told him.
“Who forces ’em?”
“Their government, their police…”
“Why?”
“Usually because they’re dangerous revolutionaries.”
“You mean they want to blow things up and kill people?” asked Beaver incredulously.
“Some of them do, yes.”
“Oh, crikey,” said Wiggins, worried. “I sent Queenie and Gertie and Shiner into that caff.”
“It’s all right,” Murray reassured him. “Those revolutionaries only want to kill people from their own government.”
“So they wouldn’t want to kill
you
? Or your brother if they thought he was you?”
Murray looked serious for a moment. “Not unless…” he began, then stopped.
“Not unless what?”
“One of them might – if he wasn’t a real revolutionary, but an undercover agent working for the Russian secret police.”
“You mean just pretending to be a real revolutionary so he could spy on the others?” said Wiggins.
“Exactly. Such a man would not hesitate to murder anyone who could expose him to the people he was spying on.”
“Like Queenie and Shiner and Gertie,” said Beaver. “If he sees ’em watching him, he’ll think they’re gonna blow his cover! And then…”
Wiggins was already on his feet and heading for the door. “C’mon, Beav,” he cried. “We gotta get ’em outta there afore it’s too late!”
A H ORNET’S N EST
Queenie, Shiner and Gertie had already left Luba’s Russian Tea Room. The bearded man had sat in his corner for a while, staring at the letter Redman had given him. Then, quite suddenly, he seemed to make up his mind about something. Folding the letter and stuffing it into his pocket, he got to his feet and crossed the room to where a woman sat alone at a table, her rich chestnut-coloured hair falling across her face as she scribbled intensely in a notebook. He leant down, whispered something in her ear and jerked his head towards the door. She looked up, startled, then quickly gathered her papers and followed him out, pulling a black cloak around her shoulders.
Shiner went to stand, ready to dash after them, but Queenie laid her hand on his arm.
“Take it easy, now,” she whispered. “We don’t want to look like we’re followin’ ’em.”
Trying to look casual, the three Boys drained their glasses, then strolled to the door. As they passed the waitress, she reached out and pinched Shiner’s cheek between her finger and thumb.
“You come back soon,” she said. “I give you more blini.” And she almost smiled.
Blushing deep scarlet, Shiner escaped to the street. Queenie and Gertie couldn’t help giggling as they followed him out.
“She’s taken a proper shine to you,” Queenie teased.
“Taken a shine to Shiner, she has,” Gertie added with a chuckle.
Shiner scowled furiously and stared past them at the bearded man and the woman, who were standing in a doorway a few yards away, talking hard. The man looked carefully over his shoulder, then took the letter from his pocket and handed it to the woman, who adjusted her spectacles and read it, then stuffed it into her handbag and hurried off down the street without a backward glance.
“C’mon,” whispered Queenie. “Let’s see where she takes it.”
“What about
him
?” Gertie asked.
“I’ll stick with Blackbeard,” said Shiner, glad of the chance to be free from their teasing. “You two tail ’er. See you back at HQ.”
As the two girls set off after the woman, the man walked back past them. For a moment Shiner was afraid he was going back into the café, but to his relief the man continued along the little street and out into a bigger one beyond.
Shiner trailed after him as he turned under an archway, crossed the busy Shaftesbury Avenue and plunged into another area of small streets and ancient alleyways. When he turned into one of these, Shiner hung back for a few seconds, afraid of being seen, then hurried after him. But suddenly there was no
“Who forces ’em?”
“Their government, their police…”
“Why?”
“Usually because they’re dangerous revolutionaries.”
“You mean they want to blow things up and kill people?” asked Beaver incredulously.
“Some of them do, yes.”
“Oh, crikey,” said Wiggins, worried. “I sent Queenie and Gertie and Shiner into that caff.”
“It’s all right,” Murray reassured him. “Those revolutionaries only want to kill people from their own government.”
“So they wouldn’t want to kill
you
? Or your brother if they thought he was you?”
Murray looked serious for a moment. “Not unless…” he began, then stopped.
“Not unless what?”
“One of them might – if he wasn’t a real revolutionary, but an undercover agent working for the Russian secret police.”
“You mean just pretending to be a real revolutionary so he could spy on the others?” said Wiggins.
“Exactly. Such a man would not hesitate to murder anyone who could expose him to the people he was spying on.”
“Like Queenie and Shiner and Gertie,” said Beaver. “If he sees ’em watching him, he’ll think they’re gonna blow his cover! And then…”
Wiggins was already on his feet and heading for the door. “C’mon, Beav,” he cried. “We gotta get ’em outta there afore it’s too late!”
A H ORNET’S N EST
Queenie, Shiner and Gertie had already left Luba’s Russian Tea Room. The bearded man had sat in his corner for a while, staring at the letter Redman had given him. Then, quite suddenly, he seemed to make up his mind about something. Folding the letter and stuffing it into his pocket, he got to his feet and crossed the room to where a woman sat alone at a table, her rich chestnut-coloured hair falling across her face as she scribbled intensely in a notebook. He leant down, whispered something in her ear and jerked his head towards the door. She looked up, startled, then quickly gathered her papers and followed him out, pulling a black cloak around her shoulders.
Shiner went to stand, ready to dash after them, but Queenie laid her hand on his arm.
“Take it easy, now,” she whispered. “We don’t want to look like we’re followin’ ’em.”
Trying to look casual, the three Boys drained their glasses, then strolled to the door. As they passed the waitress, she reached out and pinched Shiner’s cheek between her finger and thumb.
“You come back soon,” she said. “I give you more blini.” And she almost smiled.
Blushing deep scarlet, Shiner escaped to the street. Queenie and Gertie couldn’t help giggling as they followed him out.
“She’s taken a proper shine to you,” Queenie teased.
“Taken a shine to Shiner, she has,” Gertie added with a chuckle.
Shiner scowled furiously and stared past them at the bearded man and the woman, who were standing in a doorway a few yards away, talking hard. The man looked carefully over his shoulder, then took the letter from his pocket and handed it to the woman, who adjusted her spectacles and read it, then stuffed it into her handbag and hurried off down the street without a backward glance.
“C’mon,” whispered Queenie. “Let’s see where she takes it.”
“What about
him
?” Gertie asked.
“I’ll stick with Blackbeard,” said Shiner, glad of the chance to be free from their teasing. “You two tail ’er. See you back at HQ.”
As the two girls set off after the woman, the man walked back past them. For a moment Shiner was afraid he was going back into the café, but to his relief the man continued along the little street and out into a bigger one beyond.
Shiner trailed after him as he turned under an archway, crossed the busy Shaftesbury Avenue and plunged into another area of small streets and ancient alleyways. When he turned into one of these, Shiner hung back for a few seconds, afraid of being seen, then hurried after him. But suddenly there was no
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