"Do you doubt me? Why did you recruit me if you didn't trust me? That was ill-advised."
"No, no, no!" exclaimed Buzz. "Of course, we trust you. I was merely asking if they were the most recent. That's all I was asking."
"Look at the date on the bottom. Here, use my lighter."
The sound of a cigarette lighter wheel spun.
"See? Along the bottom? The note has it in September. That's as recent as it can get."
"So I see. Good enough."
The sound of a Zippo being snapped closed.
"Is there more?" Buzz then asked.
"Paper? I have all of Europe."
"How much for all of it?"
“Europe is very difficult to sneak out. I could be caught and shot. Two-hundred pounds."
"How long would it take?"
"Two weeks. I can only copy at lunch hour. Maybe less than two, but I could guarantee two at the most."
"As recent?"
"The same vintage, I’m sure."
"Two weeks from tonight, here, same place. We will bring two-hundred pounds.”
"You do that," Makov said. "And I will bring Soviet war plans for Europe. Everything, I will bring it all."
The meeting broke up.
Yulia looked at Anya. "It's recorded," Yulia said, stunned. This was huge.
"I know what I would do," Anya offered with a smile.
"What is that?"
"I would play the tape for Lieutenant Makov. Sell it to him for one-half."
Yulia recoiled from the whisper as if from a hot stove. "No!"
Anya smiled the smile of a collaborator. "Oh, yes."
"My husband would watch them shoot me and applaud," Yulia mused.
"He might. Or he even might buy a new flat to live in. Prices are good right now."
"One question," Yulia said. "Why would Makov say these things inside a car he knows is bugged by the KGB?"
A knowing smile from Anya, reeling Yulia in with her boldness and insider's view. "He knows if anyone ever listened to these tapes—which no one ever does—he would claim it was disinformation. That he was feeding false information. He would then say he took the money to recruit other contacts. You just happened to hear it going on."
"I listen to all my channels," Yulia hastened to say. "It's my job."
Anya snorted, "You are one of many, a jewel, but a poor one. Do you want to split with me or not? It is a perfect chance. It's been done before around here."
"Has it?"
"Of course. Clerical knows everything Operational knows. Why wouldn't we?"
Yulia was frightened. Anya couldn’t know Yulia was the wife of a KGB agent and strictly committed to the system. So she declined. "I cannot do it."
Anya scowled and reached for the reel of tape. It was mounted on a Teac tape machine. She rewound, then pulled the reel free and slipped it inside her purse. "Now, you don't have to worry," Anya said. "It's my problem now."
"What will you do with the tape?"
"Turn it in. KGB must hear this."
Yulia was relieved. "Then I feel better. Thank you."
"I'm going to Lieutenant Dachev right now." She got up and left her post. Ten minutes later, she returned.
"You turned it in?"
"I did. It was disinformation. KGB knew all about Makov if that makes you feel any better."
"Then I will sleep tonight."
Anya never returned to her seat after that night. Yulia asked around, but she was never heard from again.
14
In March 1961, Sergei Makov answered a knock at his door. It was yet early, and Makov still wore his pajamas. A young woman he didn’t know was standing there. “I have a tape recording you should hear,” she told him.
“Who’s that at the door?” Dona Maria called from the kitchen on one of the rare mornings when she cooked breakfast. Makov didn’t answer. He was outside the flat, the door closed behind him, trying to understand who this twit was who would dare come by the flat of a Soviet KGB officer and present a tape recording.
“I work at the KGB listening room. The tape is a recording of you accepting a bribe from Buzz and Saw. Don’t bother trying to grab it away. There are other copies.”
“What is your name?”
“Anya.”
“You work at the KGB taping room?”
“Yes.”
He whispered, edging nearer, “What do you want from me?”
“One half.”
“Of?”
“Of everything you have taken for bribes. Congratulations, Officer Makov, you have a new partner!”
“Wait. I must verify you are who you say.”
She told him her full name, then her address, too, when he asked where he could deliver the blackmail.
“Who else knows about this?” he asked.
“Just my friend, Yulia Semenov.”
“Nikolai Semenov’s wife, Yulia?”
“Yes, she’s really an English teacher. But she needs the KGB job. We will split whatever you pay us.”
“She knows about this tape? This one right here?”
“Of course. We’re partners.”
“All right. Be home tonight and answer the door when I knock three times. I’ll have your money.”
“I work tonight.”
“What time do you get off?”
“Five in the morning.”
“Yulia Semenov gets off, too?”
“Yes, we work the same shift together.”
“So, I can pay you both when you get off?”
“Okay. Be waiting at the back door of the embassy. We’ll come down the stairs. Be waiting there. I’ll tell Yulia the boss wants us to do an errand in my car. You follow us to Azmah Park and pay us there.”
Makov smiled. “You’ve got this all planned out.”
“I just want the money you owe us.”
“I owe you?”
“You heard me. Be there tomorrow morning and have the money, or else I’m taking the tape to Lieutenant Dachev.”
“I promise. I’ll be waiting.”
He shook the snow from his clothes and went back inside. Hurrying to the blinds, he parted them with his fingers and watched Anya climb into her car.
He would be there the next morning. She would become an example to silence others who might have heard things.
15
The following morning, the sun dodging in and out of the gray sky, two bodies were found outside the Soviet Embassy in London.
Nikolai relied on his brother-in-law, Maxim Moltoi, to drive him home from the Embassy when Anchev told him to go home. Yulia still hadn’t arrived there. Nikolai was panicked, having trouble with his breathing. His face was flushed as he thought of what he would tell Sasha about her mother. She was far too young to understand much. But still, she would ask, “Where is mamochka?” What would he answer back?
Maxim drove slowly through the frosty London afternoon. It began raining. The Alvis coupe’s windshield wipers beat out a rhythm that sounded to Nikolai like, That is her, that is her, that is her. He couldn’t help it. That the dead body was her had become visceral.