"Why notT' The young man shrugged and walked to Lodzia's door.
Taleniekov crossed beyond it, his back to the wall, his right hand again in his pocket The husband knocked.
There was no sound from within. He glanced over at Vasili, who nodded, indicating another try. The young man knocked again, now louder, more insistent. Again there was only silence from inside.
"Perhaps she's still waiting for you at the Kirov," said the girl.
"Then again," added the young man, smiling, "perhaps she found your old army comrade and they're both avoiding YOU." Taleniekov tried to smile back but could not. He knew only too well what he might find behind the door. "I'll wait here," he said. "Thank you very much." The husband seemed to realize he had been facetious at the wrong moment.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, taking his wife's arm.
"Good luck," said the girl awkwardly. They both walked rapidly up the staircase.
Vasili waited until he heard the sound of a door closing two stories above. He took his automatic from his pocket and reached for the knob in front of him, afraid to find out that it was not locked.
It was not and his fear mounted. He pushed the door open, stepped inside, and closed it. What he saw sent pain through his chest; he knew a greater pain would follow shortly. The room was a shambles, chairs, tables, and lamps overturned; books and cushions were strewn on the floor, articles of clothing lying in disarray. The scene was created to depict a violent struggle, but it was false, overdone-as such constructed scenes were usually overdone. There had been no struggle, but there had been something else. There had been an interrogation based in torture.
The bedroom door was open; he walked toward it, knowing the greater pain would come in seconds, sharp bolts of anguish. He went inside and looked at her. She was on the bed, her clothes tom from her body, the positioning of her legs indicating rape, the act if it was done, done only for the purposes of an autopsy, undoubtedly performed after she had died. Her face was battered, lips and eyes swollen, teeth broken. Streaks of blood had flowed down her cheeks leaving abstract patterns of deep red on her light skin.
Taleniekov turned away, a terrible passivity sweeping over him. He had felt it many times before; he wanted only to kill. He would 10.
And then he was touched, so deeply that his eyes filled suddenly with tears and he could not breathe. Lodzia Kronescha had not broken; she had not revealed to the animal who had operated on her that her lover from the days of Riga was due after midnight. She had done more than keep the secret, far more. She had sent the animal off in another direction. What she must have gone throughl He had not loved in more than half a lifetime; he loved now and it was too late.
Too late? Oh, God I Where is the problem?
that I'm wrong. In which case I will have killed us both.
Yanov Mikovsky.
If a follow-up soldier had been sent by the Matarese to Lodzia Kronescha, another surely would have been sent to seek out the scholar.
Vasili raced into the sitting room, to the telephone that had carefully not been disturbed. It did not matter whether or not the line was tapped; he would learn what he had to learn in seconds, be away seconds later before anyone intercepting him could send men to the dom vashen.
Chapter Twenty-One
He dialed Mikovsky's number. The phone was picked up immediately... too quickly for an old an.
"Yes?" The voice was muffled, unclear.
"Dr. Mikovsky, please." "Yesr' repeated the male voice. It was not the scholar's.
"I'm an associate of Comrade Mikovsky and it's urgent that I speak with him. I know he wasn't feeling well earlier; does he need medical attention? Well send it right away, of course." 'Wo." The man spoke too swiftly. "Who is calling pleaser, Taleniekov forced a casual laugh. "It's only his office neighbor, Comrade Rydukov. Tell him I've found the book he was looking for... no, let me tell him myself." Silence.
,,Yes?,, it was Mikovsky; they had let him get on the Me.
"Are you all right? Are those men friendsr, "Run, Vasili! Get away! They are--" A deafening explosion burst over the line. Taleniekov held the telephone in his hand, staring at it. lie stood for a moment, allowing sharp bolts of pain to sear through his chest. He loved two people