The Margin of Evil! (18 page)

And then there was the old woman Liliya, who would be first in the queue every morning.
Unlike others, she stated that her business was simply to venture out of the city to gather firewood and pick berries. She differed from the others, who used this as a 'Cock and Bull' excuse to escape. Unlike them, she always returned. Liliya was a welcome sight in a world that was slowly spinning off its axis. Georgii often used to talk to the old woman, as she passed in and out of the city. Others were difficult to deal with. There was the time that a group of 'Radical Students' had been denied permission to leave the city, because one of their numbers paperwork was not in order. They all returned stark naked at six the next morning, and showered everybody in excrement. Duly arrested and handed over to the appropriate authorities; Georgii thought he had seen the last of them. But to his horror and dismay, they turned up the very next day and walked nonchalantly through the Nizhniy Novgorod gate waving their Hungarian passports in the air.

Nights were altogether different.
Civilian traffic stopped at six in the evening, but military and 'Party' traffic carried on all night. Spot checks were carried out on goods vehicles cars and carts. Stow-a-ways were often uncovered; whole families, men women and children were found. Nine times out of ten these people were former members of the nobility. They ranged from Arch Dukes to Duchesses, to lower ranking officials - 'Nobodies' whom had spent lifetimes working their way up the 'Table of Ranks'. They were duly herded together in scenes reminiscent of 'The Terror' and sent back for trial, and he supposed, summary execution.  Their crime was just to be on the wrong side of the fence.  It did not worry him one iota, because, as Georgii well knew, similar atrocities had been committed by the other side in the past. The boot was now well and truly on the other foot.

So as June wore on, Georgii found himself sitting behind the desk in exactly the right location, doing exactly the right kind of job.
He was not entirely heartless, he did close a blind eye to one or two things; but from his position, out in this no man's land, he felt that he could monitor the comings and goings with relative ease. Into this role Georgii Radetzky settled easily. The phone did not ring that much, and when it did, he did as was asked.

But the longer queue always pointed in the same direction.
Out of town! People always arrived in the early hours and they always had similar stories to tell; they were either going to stay with relations in the country or they were fed up working long hours in the factories for no remuneration whatsoever. The more intelligent members of the peasantry said that this undoubtedly amounted to a return of the 'Old Feudal Serfdom' of the Tsars.  Georgii was inclined to agree, but in light of recent events he was not going to stick his neck out on their behalf.  But it was always in the back of his mind as to what might happen next in the case that had started with the disappearance of Grigory Goldstein. In this respect, he did not have long to wait.

The balmy nights of June were enjoyable.
In the dead of those nights, between one and three thirty, Georgii used to go towards the edge of the forest. On some nights the wolves used to come right up to the edge and, on several occasions, you could see the whites of their eyes reflected in the checkpoint lights. But on others you could hear them. One thing was for certain Georgii Radetzky knew they were always out there watching, waiting for their opportunity. 

It was on one such night watch that it happened.
As usual he was walking to the Nizhny Novgorod gate. Georgii was about halfway, when suddenly aches and pains came over him. All of a sudden, and it lasted for a few moments, he felt clammy and feverish. Then it was gone. He steadied himself for a moment and then carried on towards the gate.  Yulia was waiting for him.  She smiled when she saw him walking towards her. There was something about this Yulia that he liked.  She aroused in him, long dormant feelings of an amorous nature. There was, even though they had said nothing about it to each other, a definite attraction. The body language, he felt, gave it all away. But these thoughts, as well he knew, were futile.  Where would it go and where could it lead?  Like everything else around here it was doomed to go nowhere.

'
Comrade Radetzky, so good to see you,' she gushed, taking him by the arm. At that moment he was taken by a second 'Hot Flush'. She took his overcoat off and sat him down. 'Are you alright Comrade,' she said. Yulia fetched him a drink and then she pulled a dirty stained handkerchief out of her pocket and mopped the perspiration off of his brow. 'Georgii ... but you are not well.  If you like, I will be only too honoured to cover your shift.'

'
No Comrade Yulia ...' As she mopped his brow he held and squeezed her hand. 'You have done more than enough, it's nothing; I feel better already. Go home, get yourself a good night's sleep. Who knows what will happen tomorrow ... Go home, you've done more than you will ever know. Go home!'

He watched her walk off towards town.
He thought, in different time's maybe they could have carved out a future together. He watched her tall slim elegant body walk off.  She turned around and waved and then she went on her way. As he stood there watching her go. Georgii wondered what it was that they had.  He also wondered if anyone else had noticed it. He looked around him.  The jam of traffic went off in both directions. The Latvians had discovered some stowaways; they were manhandling them over to the holding area. Babies cried, people shouted, children played hide and seek. Parents called their offspring to heel, and officials slowly moved the traffic on. Again he looked down the road in Yulia's direction. But she was long gone; her slender shape had long since vanished into the evening haze.

Feeling better already, and banish
ing such thoughts from his mind, Georgii settled into the grim routine of signing papers and the reading of reports. The daylight went and the black velvet of night descended on Russia. There was a nip in the air. Georgii went into the office and put on his coat. He went back outside, turned the collar of his trench coat up and sat behind the table. Towards the forest he could see an armed food convoy waiting to be waved on through. In the other direction, another was waiting to depart. Further on the wolves bayed in the forest.

Only one convoy could pass through at any one time.
From his vantage point he could see officials arguing as to which one should go first. Was it to be the food convoy or was it to be the military one. He got up and walked down to where the officials were. He suggested a practical solution. Why don't they flip a rouble? Heads, the food convoy and tails the military. All parties agreed. Georgii flipped the coin. All those present watched the coin sail up into the air. Georgii Radetzky caught it and then covered it over with his hand only to reveal its shiny surface a moment later. The commissar of the food convoy groaned. Georgii walked away and headed towards the forests edge.

When the urge presented itself, Georgii just walked into the forest.
He was busy looking for a place to relieve himself when he heard a pistol shot come from the woods. Acting on impulse, Georgii raced further into the woods to investigate. He stopped for a moment and could hear the Latvians shouting out orders to each other. Georgii yelled back and then penetrated deeper into the forest. A second shot sounded. It was louder this time and it sounded like it came from dead ahead. Georgii peered into the darkness.

Then, to his astonishment
, a flare was fired up into the night sky. He could still hear the commotion going on behind him but it was now more distant. Georgii stopped and looked up; but as he looked up, the earlier feeling of nausea gripped him. He could feel the beads of sweat trickle upon his brow, and the world began to spin. The dark forest world was suddenly illuminated by the brilliant white magnesium of light. In the distance Georgii was aware of creatures scurrying about, then suddenly it was dark, there was nothing. He swayed and tried to reach out and steady himself, but it was already too late.  It was hard to believe that it had happened in an instant. There was a loud 'Bang!'  Then Darkness descended in an instant ...

He woke up on a stone floor, he was soaked right through, his body was shivering and his head was
throbbing. He could see nothing Georgii tried to move and then sensed that he had been bound, gagged and hooded. He also sensed that wherever he was he was not alone. He could smell the rich aroma of pipe tobacco. The hood was then removed. Then he flinched and found himself facing the blinding glare of a pair of car headlights. Slowly he could make out the silhouette of a small man who was facing him. In that split second, Georgii tried to put a face to the figure that faced him.

'
Georgii Radetzky, I've been looking forward to this moment for a very long time,' the accented voice said.

There was some
thing different about the voice. At times it was harsh, whilst at the same time it was friendly in tone, and yet it seemed to carry an understated sense of authority. Georgii had heard the tone before, but where? Then it came to him, the voice reminded him of a priest's voice. That was it; the voice of a priest. The voice started again.

'
I know everything about you. I know about your meetings with Gerhardt and Trotsky. I know that even 'Comrade' Lenin thinks highly of you. You see, Georgii Radetzky, I respect the man who has the ear of these 'Ivory Tower' revolutionaries. I know what Kamenev thinks of Radek and Bukharin of Lunacharsky. I make it my business to know and do you know why comrade? I'll tell you Lenin won`t live much longer. Because, when we get out of this mess, the future of Russia depends on it. It depends on people making the right decisions.'  He paused and then said, 'It's that simple,' shaking his head, 'it really is, when you think about it quite that simple.'

'
Comrade Radetzky, I want to make you a proposition ... I can always use a resourceful man like you and, do you know what, I'm not even going to let you say no. This is what I want you to do ...'

Part Two

Chapter Eleven

His secretary exited the office shutting the door, quietly, behind him.
The occupant extinguished his pipe, shuffled his papers, reached out and lifted up the receiver of his telephone. He said what he had to say and then replaced it.  He paused for a moment, and then got up and walked across the room. He fished out some keys from his pocket, stopping to listen, then walked towards the door and locked it. Again he waited, satisfied that no one was outside, he returned to his desk, sat down and unlocked the bottom drawer. Inside the compartment there was a false bottom.  He carefully removed it, then lifted up the black velvet covering. Once it was removed, the contents were neatly laid out in front of him. Again, he paused for a moment to listen.

The cross wa
s placed in an upright position.  Alongside it was laid some rosary beads and, beside that, there was an icon of the Virgin Mary. He stopped to listen again; he could hear distant voices outside. As soon as he was sure that all chances of an interruption had receded, the artefacts were carefully arranged onto the 'Black Velvet' mat. Pleased that everything was going to plan, he got down on his knees, running the beads through his fingers, he started to pray. Still kneeling, he opened his eyes and ran his fingers along the edge of the velvet mat. The motif on it was a cross sandwiched between two shields.  He thought for a moment and then smiled quietly to himself ...

It had been a long and tortuous journey, and not without its ups and downs, that had led him to this desk, and he knew that it was not over yet, not by a long chalk.
By his reckoning, if everything went according to plan, it would take him another ten years to get to where he wanted to go. But that was really of no special concern, because there was no rush, Rome had not been built in a day, neither would the new 'Workers Paradise'. Like all things it would take careful planning and plenty of time. 'The Other's', might be in a hurry to wave the 'Magic Wand'. He, for one, was not.

There w
as another thing that separated 'The Wheat from The Chaff'. God spoke to him and to him alone. He did not speak to 'The Other's', he spoke to him. But then it was not down to the Kamenevs, the Zinovievs or the Bukharins to do Gods work. He was the one who had been chosen for the task and it was he, and he alone, who was going to do 'The Almighty's' bidding in, 'Socialist', Russia ...

The Odyssey had started back in Tbilisi in Georgia.
His father had been an alcoholic cobbler, who had left his mother high and dry. Days were spent idling away on his own. He wasn't very good at making friends and, as a result most relationships were, at best, difficult, more often than not fraught. School was the same. He was considered to be an able student but of no great intellect. On the contrary, it was at school that he had made his first significant discovery and it was in the field of human nature. The young enquiring mind noticed that it was there, in the playground at school, and it was there on the streets of the city. Following on from his early observations, he worked out, crudely at first, that there were different kinds of people. There were those whom sat back and did nothing and got nowhere in life; and there were those that were go-getters whom worked hard all their lives, and still got nothing. There were those that did nothing and got everything out of life. It all seemed rather unjust to the young mind, but he surmised that if you took a little bit of one, and mixed it with a little bit of the other; you could turn yourself into something else. In a sense he felt you could turn yourself into a chameleon, that's if you understood all of those differing psychological traits. He reasoned that you could be one thing to one person and something quite different to somebody else, and you could do all of this without ever giving anything of your trueself away.