The Swiss Spy (10 page)

‘Everything will be all right Roza, don’t worry.’

‘You think so, do you Englishman? In that case you
have no idea who is it paying you.’ She shuffled over to him, lowering her
voice even more. ‘They will kill us all, you realise that?’

Peter leaned over from the nearby chair where he was
sitting, ‘Shut up’ he shouted at Roza. He turned to Henry and spoke in French: ‘Don’t
talk with her anymore.’ From the study there was the sound of raised voices in
Russian, mostly Viktor, but Anatoly too. The afternoon turned into evening and
one of the Frenchmen brought food into the library, but apart from Nikolai,
none of the family ate anything. When it began to turn dark, Viktor called
Henry and Peter into the kitchen.

‘He finally understands we mean business. I think he
realises he has no alternative but to do what I say. There’s a train to Bern at
7.20 tomorrow morning: Lucien and Jean-Marie will go with him. He’ll be at the
Swiss
Volksbank when it opens and I’ve agreed he can telephone here to reassure
himself everyone is safe. Then he’ll transfer all the funds from the Swiss
Volksbank. After that, they’ll travel to Zürich and repeat the procedure at the
Union and Eidgenössische Banks.’

‘How do we know he’ll transfer all the funds under
his control?’ asked Peter.

‘We can’t be totally sure, but we know from following
him that these are the only three banks he’s ever visited. I managed to
persuade him to show me what documentation he had and the accounts amount to
just over nine hundred million Swiss Francs: that’s more than we estimated. They
will be very pleased. By tomorrow night that money will be in accounts
controlled by the Party.’

‘And what happens then Viktor?’ The German looked
nervous, playing with his watch strap and biting his finger nails, glancing
first at Henry and then back at Viktor.

‘We’ll see. I’ve told him he’ll be brought back here
and that a few hours after we leave the town we’ll phone the local police to
release them.’

 ‘Roza told me that they’re all going to be killed,’
said Henry. ‘Why would she say that?’

‘Don’t worry about it
synok
. We know what we’re
doing.’

‘But…’

Peter leaned over the table and grabbed Henry’s
forearm, very tight. ‘Don’t you remember anything? We just do as we’re told. This
isn’t that stupid game you play for days at a time in England, understand?’

Never question; never discuss; never hesitate.

Viktor told them both to shut up. They would keep
Anatoly apart from the rest of the family that night. Two of them would guard
him while the others stayed with
Tatyana and the children in the
library, taking it in turns to sleep. Anatoly was made to telephone the
housekeepers:
you aren’t required tomorrow, please take the day off – we’ll
see you as usual on Thursday.

Anatoly was woken up at six in the morning. Henry
had been with him in his bedroom along with Peter for the past few hours and
was surprised that the Russian had slept at all. They watched while he washed,
shaved and dressed. When he was ready, he turned around and addressed them.

‘Tell him I want to say goodbye to my family before
I leave.’

They called Viktor up and there was a short exchange
in Russian. The result was that, as Anatoly came downstairs, he went into the
library and hugged each member of his family, but said nothing other than a
word or two in Russian to each one. When he had finished hugging the last one,
Nadezhda
, he turned
sharply and swiftly left the room. As he passed him in the hall Henry noticed
the Russian’s eyes were filled with tears.

***

Viktor
spent much of that Wednesday in the study, behind Anatoly’s desk. The first
phone call came at 9.30: it was
Lucien at the
Swiss
Volksbank. Peter brought Roza through from the library and put her on the phone
to her father.
Yes, we’re alright. When are you coming home? What are they…?
The phone was snatched back from her. Thirty minutes later and Lucien rang
again. The money had been transferred. They were now on their way to Zürich. The
next phone call came at a quarter to one. It was Jean-Marie to say they had
arrived in Zürich and were about to go into Eidgenössische Bank. This time,
Nadezhda
was brought
in from the library to assure her father all was well. Henry was in the study
when
Jean-Marie
rang again at 1.30 to say the transfer had been made; they were now on their
way to the Union Bank.

‘Wait: ring me back in half an hour. I need to make
a call first.’

Viktor dialled a Zürich number and, after a short
conversation in which he said no more than a few words, a large smile filled
his face, displaying the familiar gold teeth. ‘Good news,
synok
. The
funds from both banks have already been transferred to our account in Credit
Suisse. Before the close of business today they will have been spread among
various untraceable accounts across Europe. We are better at capitalism than
the capitalists!’

By three o’clock the business had been done. Nikolai
had spoken to his father before the transaction at Union Bank then Lucien rang
to say it had been completed.

‘Is
Yevtushenko in the room with you?’ Viktor was
speaking with Lucien. ‘Right then, don’t say anything, but when I have finished
say out loud you will be on the 4.15 train from Zürich and you expect to be
back in Interlaken by eight o’clock, you understand? You know what to do,
Lucien… I will see you in Paris.’

Viktor paused while Lucien spoke then placed the
phone back on the receiver, holding onto it for a while after putting it down. He
sighed and loosened his tie.

‘All good,
synok
. The transfers have taken
place. Moscow will be delighted. Now, Trotsky has no more money.’

Henry nodded. ‘Is Anatoly on his way back here,
Viktor?’

The Russian peered at him as if the sun was in his
eyes. ‘Tell Peter to come in. You stay in the library with Claude.’

***

The
longest half hour of Henry Hunter’s life began very soon after that.

He was in the library with Claude, keeping an eye on
Tatyana
and the three children when Viktor appeared in the doorway. He spoke in Russian,
and Roza and
Nadezhda
both raised their hands. Viktor pointed at
Nadezhda
and
gestured upstairs. ‘I’ve asked if they want an opportunity to use the bathroom,’
he said to Henry in French. Viktor closed the library door as
Nadezhda
went
upstairs. Viktor said nothing but glanced at his watch then up at the ceiling,
his back against the closed door. After five minutes he spoke to Roza.
Your
turn.
She brushed past Henry, looking through him as she went past, pulling
her cardigan tightly around her shoulders and across her front.

Ten minutes later, with no sign of either of the
girls, there was a knock at the door. Viktor opened it slightly to reveal Peter
on the other side. The German nodded briefly but said nothing. Viktor nodded
his head approvingly and briefly gripped Peter’s shoulder in a friendly manner.

‘Go into the guard room,’ he said to Henry, ‘and
tell Claude to come here. You remain there; keep an eye on the road. Don’t
leave until you’re told to.’

From the guard room Henry could see the front gate
and the quiet road beyond it. The silence was pierced by a scream, one that was
loud but stopped short by a popping noise then the sound of something falling. Henry
wondered whether to go and see what was happening, despite Viktor’s
instructions. Next came the sound of Nikolai shrieking and another popping
noise, followed by two more. After that, more silence.

The door to the guardroom opened. Peter was standing
there. ‘You’re to go to the library.’ When he got there, Viktor and Claude were
standing in the middle of the room, revolvers in their hands. The body of
Tatyana was thrown back in her chair, her eyes and mouth wide open and a large
wound on her forehead. Prostrate on the floor in front of her was Nikolai, two
wounds visible on his back and a large pool of blood emerging from under him.

Henry was too shocked to move and for a while could
say nothing, until he noticed Nikolai’s back moving.

‘He’s breathing Viktor! Nikolai’s breathing.’ Henry
felt himself swaying. Claude walked over to the boy and with his foot turned
him over. Nikolai was breathing very slowly. His face was white, but his eyes
were moving as if he was having trouble focussing. Claude looked up at Viktor:
what do you want me to do?

Viktor held up a hand: wait. ‘Henry, you finish him
off. It is a tradition in our service: everyone on a mission should take part.’
The Russian pressed his own revolver into Henry’s hand: the barrel was still
hot. Henry’s hand was shaking so much that the gun was waving around.

‘Be careful with that thing, please Henry. You’d
better use two hands’ said Viktor. ‘And be quick. We need to get out of here.’ Henry
breathed in deeply.
Never question; never discuss; never hesitate.
He
calmly walked over to Nikolai and knelt down by him. The boy’s head moved
slowly towards him, his eyes locking onto Henry’s as his mouth opened, allowing
a trickle of blood to slide down his chin.

‘Come on, quick,’ said Claude. Henry released the
safety catch and placed the revolver against Nikolai’s temple. He noticed he
was trying to say something: hearing him say something – anything – would be
more than he could bear. When he pressed the trigger he felt the splatter of
blood and flesh on him before he heard the sound. It had been no harder than
shooting his puppy. Claude hauled him up.

‘Good. Well done. We need to move now.’

***

They
left the house just before four o’clock, after trying to make it appear as if a
robbery had gone dreadfully wrong. They opened the safe and made the study look
as if it had been ransacked. Henry went upstairs with Peter to help find any
jewellery. As they walked past the bathroom Henry stopped suddenly. A girl’s
leg was poking out of the door. Its shoe had fallen off and was upside-down on
the carpet in front of him. Peter pushed in front of him as he tried to open
the bathroom door, placing himself between Henry and the door.

‘You don’t need to come in here.’

‘I want to see,’ said Henry, barging his way past
the German.

The bodies of Roza and
Nadezhda
were sprawled on the floor, on top of a pool of dark blood that had spread
around the room. The heads of both girls were jerked at an unnatural angle,
facing each other, their eyes open and full of fear. Roza’s hand had reached
out to her sister’s, her fingers clutching one of Nadezhda’s wrists.

‘What…’

Peter had now pushed past him and was drawing the
curtains. He smiled at Henry and
pointed at the girls and made a
cut-throat gesture.

Henry stood in the doorway for a minute, watching as
Peter hauled the bodies of the two girls into the bath then threw towels onto
the floor to soak up the blood. He was shocked to realise how un-shocked he
felt. His main concern was he should be careful not to step in the blood.

Henry left the house as normal through the front
gate and headed into town, crossing the river and towards Interlaken West train
station. He was halfway down Bahnhofstrasse when the car pulled up. Peter and
Claude got out and walked towards the station. Henry climbed into the passenger
seat next to Viktor.

They drove north towards Bern, but were well past
Thun before either of them spoke. ‘You realise there was no alternative, don’t
you
synok
?’ Viktor turned briefly towards Henry, who shrugged. ‘We couldn’t
afford to have any witnesses.’

Henry said nothing.
Never question; never
discuss; never hesitate.

Instead of driving into Bern, they stopped briefly
in
Köniz
then took the road towards Lausanne. It was only then that Henry spoke. ‘What
happened to Anatoly?’

‘I think you can guess
synok
.’

‘Did he know what was going to happen to him?’

‘I’d imagine so: he’s been an
apparatchik
all
his adult life. He knows how we work. He’d have known what to expect.’

‘So why did he co-operate then?’

‘Because I promised him that if he did, we would
spare the children.’

‘And he believed you?’

Viktor said nothing for a while as he thought about
Henry’s question. The headlight of an approaching bus caught the Russian’s gold
teeth as he turned to reply.

‘Probably not, but what choice did he have? He
wanted to believe that I – we – would spare the children and his wife. Look,
you’re asking too many questions
synok
. You did well, just leave it at
that. You are one of us now. You should be happy.’

Later that night, once he had arrived home in Nyon
and lay in his own bed for the first time in weeks, what most shocked Henry was
the realisation of how much he agreed with Viktor. He was now one of them. He
was happy. But he knew it had come at a terrible, terrible price. When he had
returned from Germany the previous year he knew they had taken possession of
his soul.