The Longest Pleasure (16 page)

'No, Comrade Colonel.'

'And what did you think of her?'

'I didn't think of her, Comrade Colonel.
I
had been beaten up by a Hungarian mob. I had a wound in the head, and I was not quite conscious. Over the next two days
I
was very ill. I think I must have had concussion. When
I
was myself again the city was in the hands of the patriots.'

'Let us at least keep our terminology right, Alexander Petrovich. The city was by then in the hands of the fascist reactionaries.' Tigran Dus smiled. 'You are in no position to be anything but correct. And this blonde woman was there with you all this time?'

'No. She and Irena, well, they had been lovers.' Galitsin flushed.

'My dear captain, I have managed to exist on this earth for fifty-four years. I have encountered most of humanities' idiosyncrasies.'

'Well, they quarrelled over me. Over Irena's desire to protect me. And Kirsten left. We did not see her again for nearly a fortnight.'

'Kirsten?'

'Kirsten Moeller.'

‘
Kirsten Moeller. And then she came back, and you agreed to smuggle them out of Buda. Why did you do that, Comrade Captain?'

Galitsin shrugged. 'I assumed that I was going to be shot as a deserter in any event. I wished to save Irena's life.'

'Irena's life? Do you suppose anyone was going to harm Irena Szen? Even bullets cost money, Alexander Petrovich.' Tigran Dus lit a cigarette. 'The idea of escaping from Buda was Moeller's?'

'Yes, Comrade Colonel. But Irena wanted to go too.'

'And you agreed to help them. Tell me, Alexander Petrovich, do you know why Moeller came to Budapest?'

'Irena said she had come to address the students.'

'She is a fascist agitator. One of the most dangerous fascist agitators in Europe.'

'I knew she was some sort of an agitator.'

'And as such she was responsible for the deaths of several of your comrades. Yet you agreed to help her?'

Galitsin raised his head. 'What does it matter, Comrade Colonel? I failed.'

'On the contrary, Captain Galitsin. You were far too successful.'

As if a curtain had been drawn back, much of the premature age fell from Galitsin's face. 'They got away?'

'We found the car, not far from Buda, but we have never located the two women. That was over a month ago. I would say it is extremely possible they made the Austrian border.'

'Thank God!' Galitsin said.

'
Thank God?' Tigran Dus echoed. ‘
You are a very strange fellow, Alexander Petrovich. I begin to wonder if your having a Scottish mother was a good thing, after all. Do you understand the enormity of what you have done?'

Yes, Comrade Colonel.'

'I doubt that, Alexander Petrovich. Let me give you some recent history. In October
1953
there was trouble in Austria, strikes and demonstrations against the occupation by the Allied powers, but principally aimed against our presence there. There was no bloodshed. It all went off very well. But there were anti-Soviet speeches and much inflammatory material was handed out. Our agents observed what they could, compiled quite a file on these fascists. One of them noted a young woman, blonde, in a white raincoat. Her name was Christina Hipp, and she seemed to originate in West Germany. But she took a plane to England.' He paused to light another cigarette. 'Do you remember that trouble in East Berlin ? There was a young blonde woman in a white raincoat there too. Her name then was Christine Smith, and she openly travelled from England this time. And then at Poznan, last June, when there was really serious trouble. She used the name Hipp there, but our man in charge was slow to react. And now in Buda, in October. Due to that incompetence I mentioned, we have never got closer to her than that white raincoat, but there is no doubt in my mind that she is the same woman, your friend Kirsten Moeller. And now at last, in Buda, we obtained information that she was seen entering the apartment of one Irena Szen, a well-known prostitute. Here at last is something we can get our hands on to. If not Kirsten Moeller, then the woman Szen, who will be able to tell us something about her friend. But what happened? The current Red Army Chess Champion has helped them to escape from the city. He snapped his fingers and they vanished. Like that.' Tigran Dus snapped his fingers.

Galitsin sighed. 'They were going to England. That is what Kirsten said. Kirsten is married to an Englishman.'

'Named Moeller?'

'I do not think his name can be Moeller. She was to change her passport in Vienna.'

Tigran Dus pulled his long nose. 'How remarkable,' he said at last. 'How very remarkable. Perhaps we may, as you say, thank God for your Scottish mother, after all, Alexander Petrovich. No doubt the events of the past few weeks have been very confusing to you. I suppose you have no idea what has really happened to you. Would you like me
to tell you, Captain Galitsin?

'I would be grateful, Comrade Colonel.'

'You were captured by the insurgents in Buda and so horribly mistreated that you went mad. That news has been broadcast to the world. You are even more of a hero now, Comrade Captain. And the Hungarians are even more blackened for their unspeakable atrocities.'

'The two women know the truth.'

'The two women, I am perfectly sure, will keep their mouths shut as to what they know. They will wish to slip gently into forgetfulness, hoping to disappear from our files, before they will attempt to reappear. But it is you we are di
s
cussing. Having decided to treat your case in this fashion, Comrade Captain, we are left with only two alternatives. One is to let you go mad, as advertised. How long do you think it would take you to go mad in that hole of yours?'

Galitsin gazed at him. 'I think about two months, Comrade Colonel. Perhaps less, now that I have already spent three weeks there.'

'You are not afraid of this prospect?'

"Yes, I am afraid of this prospect.'

'I wonder. I think perhaps you are a braver man than I had supposed. You have an unusual sort of courage, Comrade Captain. A courage which blossoms when you are alone, rather than, as with most men, in the company of your comrades. But you should not think only of yourself. No doubt you are aware that madness of this nature does not just happen. If it comes out, after ill-treatment, it is because it is already there, in the system. This sort of madness is hereditary. It would mean we would have to consider very seriously the mental state of all your relatives. Not that this would be a very large task. You have only three blood relatives left in the world, isn't that so, Comrade Captain?'

Galitsin made no reply. He gazed at Tigran Dus, his broad, square face expressionless.

‘
But of course,' Tigran Dus said, "We have another alternative. You could recover, under the care of our skilful doctors. You could see Helena again, and your two charming nephews.' Tigran Dus lit a fresh cigarette. 'I suppose you would be capable of making such a recovery, Alexander Petrovich?'

Galitsin said nothing.

'Of course, it would take time. A great deal of time. But that would be all to the good, from every point of view. We would need to be quite sure that you had, indeed, made a complete recovery.'

Galitsin waited.

"But once we were sure of your recovery, Alexander Petrovich, we should seek to reward your courage and perseverance after your dreadful experience. What would you say to a trip to the West, Captain Galitsin? To Great Britain, perhaps, in view of your British forbears.'

Galitsin gazed at him.

'I think it might be a good idea for you to enter an English chess tournament,' Tigran Dus said. 'The Hastings Tournament. It is the showpiece of British chess. We are not sending any entries this year, just to let them know that we disapprove of their a
g
gression in the Middle East. But we shall certainly be entering two of our grandmasters for the Premier next year. I'm afraid we could not secure entry for you in the Premier, but I'm sure they'd be very pleased to have you in one of the lower sections. It would be excellent publicity. And then we could arrange for you to spend a few weeks touring the country. There is much of interest to be seen, and of course we would make much of the fact that you had a Scottish mother. It would all be very interesting.'

"Yes, Comrade Colonel,' Galitsin said,

'Well? What do you think of such a prospect?' 'I think the blonde woman must be very important to you.'

Tigran Dus put out his cigarette, got up again. 'She is important, yes. Not so much for herself, Alexander Petrovich, as for the people she represents. She is the field agent She will tell us who her employers are. And you are the only person who really knows what she looks like.'

'And you think she will come rushing out to welcome me, when I get to England?'

'It is a possibility I think may be very likely. You say she is fond of Irena Szen. Now she has taken her to England, you may be sure they will remain in touch. And you would not be human, Alexander Petrovich, did you not seek to renew your so romantic acquaintance with Szen. Perhaps you could even advertise for her. Have you ever read the London
Times?
'

"No, Comrade Colonel.'

'I will procure some copies for you. It contains several romantic advertisements. You could think of something to equal them, I am sure. And Szen, remembering your love, the way you risked all for her, will certainly answer such an advertisement.'

"Yes, Comrade Colonel. But I must decline.'

Tigran Dus stood above Galitsin. 'Listen to me, Alexander Petrovich. Do not be a fool. Does it not occur to you that this is the second time I have offered you your life? I could have shot you twelve years ago. I should have, according to the law. I did not. Do you think I did it for love of you? I had never seen you before in my life. I saved your life then, after I had talked with you, because I realised that you were too useful a human being to be carelessly destroyed. You are intelligent, you possess that unusual sort of courage I mentioned just now, and you speak a foreign language like a native. I marked you down then for the intelligence service, but I wished you to grow up a little, gain some experience. Now you are ready. Now, in fact, you have no alternative career. And now you can enter the Fourth Bureau at a moment of maximum efficiency, when there is a job of work to be done which no one can perform as well as you, which no one except you can perform at all. Life is treating you very well, Alexander Petrovich. You cannot go on rejecting nature's overtures. And on what are your objections based? You owe this Kirsten Moeller nothing.'

'I owe Irena Szen my life. More than that, perhaps.'

'She means nothing to us. I can give you my word that we shall not harm a hair on her head. Think about it, Comrade Captain. And think about the alternatives. Not only for yourself.'

Galitsin raised his head. 'And afterwards, Comrade Colonel?'

'Afterwards, Captain Galitsin? Why, afterwards we should have to see. But you would only benefit. Think about it, Alexander Petrovich. You are being offered
a
second chance at life.'

Alexander Galitsin smiled. It occurred to Tigran Dus that he had not often seen Galitsin smile. 'No, Comrade Colonel,' he said. 'A third chance.'

IV

Helena was very nervous. But Ewfim had said, They would not let you see him, sweetheart, if he were not recovered.'

Recovered from what? Alexander had been so badly wounded in the Great Patriotic War, and now to be tortured by a band of Hungarian fascists seemed too much. Why were some people, Alexander and Mother, for example, so unlucky, and others, herself and Ewfim, for instance, so pampered throughout their lives? Mother's death had been horrible, so horrible it sometimes made her sick to think about it, but it was an exciting sickness, and afterwards the partisans had been so kind. Moscow in wartime had been exciting; the Comsomol had given everyone a vast sense of purpose. Times had been hard. There had never been enough food to eat, and there had been no new clothes. But there had been Ewfim; in wartime even Ewfim had been exciting. Since
1945
there had been no excitement. Her life had flown more placidly than the Moscow River.

The car stopped, the guard saluted. Helena Isbinska, travelling like a general, or a member of the Praesidium,

She smiled at him, and he averted his eyes. Perhaps she should have saluted.

She drew her fur coat, her most prized possession, the mark of Ewfim's success, tighter around her, stamped her boots to dislodge some of the snow, looked up at the huge white, square building, the shuttered windows; she supposed military hospitals had to look like prisons.