The Russian Affair - By Michael Wallner Page 0,102
realized that she was incapable of doing justice to his passionate words. “Why didn’t you ever want to make love to me?”
“That didn’t mean I loved you any less.” He stroked her cheek. “We did make love,” he said with a smile. “I was embarrassed in front of you. I still am.”
“And what about Kamarovsky?” she asked brusquely. Alexey’s unexpected declaration had thrown her into total disarray.
“I knew the Colonel would set somebody on me.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what they do to anyone who has a kind of power they can’t assess. Science is such a power, Anna.” He pondered for a moment. “But maybe my dubious past was reason enough.”
“Your father?”
He shrugged. “I’m not a Russian. That’s still a defect, even today.”
Involuntarily, she moved closer to him. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“I didn’t want to put you in a false position. It was obvious to me that if you knew what was going on, Kamarovsky would notice. He would have seen through you at once. Your ignorance was important to him.” He added, lowering his voice, “And to me.”
“You used me the whole time.”
In the silence, they heard an automobile stop in front of the building. Alexey stood up and pushed the curtain to one side. “I hope we can do without reproaches. Couldn’t you have said ‘No’ when Kamarovsky asked you to be his spy? You decided to do something for your father—and for Petya. I know very few people who would have refused.”
Even though he was expressing what Anna had thought a hundred times, hearing it from him enraged her. “I can’t go on like this. It has to come to an end today, right now. That’s what I came here to tell you. Can’t you just let me go?”
He closed the curtain. “All right. If nothing can dissuade you, it’s over as of today.”
Anna heard the car drive off. As the sound of the engine faded, Alexey picked up a sandwich and bit it in half.
She couldn’t believe she’d gained his assent so easily. “Really, Alexey?”
He swallowed and took a sip of wine. “On one condition: Let’s keep up appearances until after I return from my trip. I once told you that you’d never have anything to fear from me. Won’t you just trust me?”
“How can I, after two years that were one big lie?”
Anna had never heard the doorbell ring inside the apartment. It was a loud, piercing sound, incongruous with this clandestine place. Alexey stood up and said, “Excuse me. This won’t take long.” He stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him.
Anna guessed that he’d been expecting this visit. She heard the front door open and listened in vain for words of greeting; there was only silence. What was going on? Why wasn’t there the slightest sound of communication between Alexey and his visitor? Now she heard steps. She started to go into the next room, but the front door closed with a gentle click. She ran back and peered cautiously through the ornamental glass panes of the door to the hall. It was empty.
Precisely then, when Anna needed a clear head and all her reasoning power to consider the situation, her nerves gave way. Suddenly, everything she was going through seemed overwhelming, and she was racked by sobs that had lain silent in her for a long time, waiting to be set off. The hand she clapped against her mouth couldn’t repress a gush of phlegm and saliva; she swallowed hard, coughed, ran stooping into the kitchen, washed her hands, and splashed water on her face. Her tears didn’t stop right away, and as she stood there weeping, trying not to make any noise, she fixed her blurred gaze on the kitchen door.
Alexey had confessed his deep feelings for her and, in the same breath, revealed himself as a coldly calculating man. He’d taken a lover in the knowledge that such a step would drive her into the hands of the KGB. He’d been prepared to accept the breakup of her marriage and the ruin of her family in order to achieve a single goal: deceiving Kamarovsky. While Alexey voluntarily and apparently casually divulged to Anna information concerning the inner workings of his Ministry, he was providing the Colonel with facts whose analysis had resulted—at this realization, Anna caught her breath—in Kamarovsky’s overlooking the real facts! Was it possible that the phlegmatic wolf had outsmarted the hard-bitten security officer?
Her weeping subsided, giving way to feverish cogitation. What sense could she make