The Margin of Evil! (36 page)

Early morning came and went.
Georgii, at any one time, found himself watching the rats foraging on the railway track, or the sailors that had trooped out onto the platform, or the crowd of persons over on the far side of the goods yard whom seemed to be under some sort of armed escort. Prisoners he thought.  Lunchtime came and went and the pangs of hunger were starting to kick in. When, shortly before two in the afternoon, a whistle was heard. But still there was no sign of a train. Slowly a train was reversing down the track and it was heading towards them. The people on the platform cheered, then it stopped and they started to boo. The train seemed to wait, for what seemed to them like an eternity. Georgii Radetzky and the writer stared at it as if willing it to move. But it was now clear that for the moment the train was going nowhere. They watched and waited. Over in the far corner of the railway yard; the group of men under armed escort were frog marched over to the waiting train and everybody on the platform watched them get onboard in silence.

Slowly the train started moving towards them.
You could hear the breaks squeak and the locomotive hiss steam. Eventually it pulled up and stopped at the platform. The sailors were the first to move. They got into the train. After that everybody else was herded on. Georgii hugged the writer, kissed each cheek and then watched Boris get into a car. For a long time after the train had left Georgii stood on the platform and looked off in the direction where the train had gone.  Eventually he turned around, choosing to ignore the faces of disappointment; of those not lucky enough to secure a place on the departing train.

He would never see his friend again, but yea
rs later he would read the book that the writer became famous for, and when he had read the book, Georgii immediately recognised the departure scene at the railway station. There were only two differences. The first was that the young doctor and his girlfriend had been substituted for himself and the writer; the second was only one person, the 'Comrade Writer', would succeed in getting out of Moscow.

Chapter Twenty Seven

On seeing his mentor in one of the Kremlins inner quads, Georgii went over to talk to him.

'
Auguste!  I take it that you will be wanting see me,' he said.

'
Sorry, busy at the moment! Let's put it this way, at this time, I have much more important fish to fry,' his mentor said impatiently.

Georgii was surprised by Gerhardt
's reaction. Maybe, in light of recent events, he had outlived his usefulness. But even so Gerhardt's reaction had caught him on the wrong footing; but it also occurred to him that up until their chance meeting his former Okhrana boss was not even aware that Georgii had been summoned to work in the Kremlin. But then, who or whom had summoned him to work, in this inner sanctum of Bolshevism? The answer to that question would come the following day. Shaking his head Georgii got on with the task in hand, which was settling into his new office.

The answer, to
'The Whom', or, 'Who' question came along with a loud knock on the door. Georgii got up from behind his desk and walked over to the door. He opened it. The ever affable Georgian was standing there.

'
Come with me Comrade!'

'
By all means ... Do I need my coat?' Georgii said.

'
Nooooooooooo; just your wits,' the Georgian said.

They must have walked for about ten or fifteen minutes.
They went up staircases and down until they finally arrived at an office. Fishing out some keys from his pocket the Georgian unlocked the door and gestured for Georgii to enter. Once they were both safely inside, he shut the door behind him and then locked it. Georgii looked around him. The office was full of filing cabinets, there was another office off to one side and once again it was full of more filing cabinets. His host sensed at what Georgii was looking at.

'
Good or bad! Anyone who's anyone is in this office. If their records are not here, then they don't matter!'  The Georgian carried on. 'Your records are here Comrade Radetzky. They are in good company, Lenin and Trotsky's are here. I'll show you yours one day.'  Wistfully he added, 'It makes for some interesting reading ...'

Georgii stood and slowly nodded his head.
He was impressed by this man that so many others had consistently underestimated. Georgii didn't get it though, why had he been singled out.

The Georgian explained.
He told Georgii that he was looking for able persons to assist him with his alternative vision for Russia.  Georgii listened and wondered how the Georgian was going to pull it off. He also wondered why Stalin was letting him in on his plan. But the Georgian sounded plausible and Georgii Radetzky was taken in by his soft spoken rhetoric.

'
Georgii, your life's in danger; mines not, but yours is.  They are using you to get at me and when they have finished they intend to kill you!'

The man facing him was as wily as a fox.
On this point Georgii had no doubt and he played his cards only when he had to. In the silence they stood there sizing each other up.

This was the second time in a week that Georgii had heard this.
First time was when that English subversive had warned him; the second time was now in the office of Comrade Stalin, Commissar for the Nationalities. Georgii had to admit that the Georgian was perfectly charming, and what the man said, made perfect sense. He waited for the commissar to carry on.

The Georgian pulled a filing cabinet away from the wall and beckoned Georgii over. Comrade Radetzky watched the Geo
rgian touch the edge of a panel and then the secret door slid open. The Georgian signalled for Georgii to follow.

As far as Georgii was concerned the tour was unbelievable.
His guide showed him Trotsky and Lenin both in conference.  Kamenev and Bukharin entertaining in their bourgeoisie apartments. They watched Lunarcharsky dance a naked fandango around a drunken sailor.

For Georgii Radetzky, this was rapidly turning into one of the most interesting weeks of his life.
Alright he had lost his writer friend, but never in a month of Sundays had he expected to be privy to the inner secrets of the Kremlin. It was really too much for him to take in at once. They returned to the Georgians office and he sat there in a dumbfounded state of speechlessness. It suddenly dawned on him that he was in the presence of the most powerful man in all of 'The Russia's'. The irony was that few people, except party insiders, had ever heard the name Joseph Stalin. He didn't know what to say. As it happened he didn't have to, 'The Georgian', puffing at his pipe, broke the silence.

'
Georgii Radetzky! Even Lenin picks his nose!'  He paused and stubbed the contents of his pipe into an ashtray. Then he looked at him, 'Comrade, so good to have you onboard! I can always use a good man ... And you are a good man,' the Commissar for Nationalities said.

Those words would haunt Georgii Radetzky for the rest of his life.
Not that it was immediately obvious to him on that day the most unlikeliest of partnerships had been struck.

Even as he sat
there in the Commissars office the priority was still for Georgii Radetzky to get Yulia and the kids, and his own hide, out of Russia and he would do it by using any means at his disposal. He still didn't know how he was going to do this.

While he was thinking of escape
he was aware of a knock coming from inside the wall.  The Georgian moved over and, pressing the corner of the wall, a panel slid open and out came a small, almost midget sized man.

At that moment he wasn
't really concentrating; he was lost and completely away with the fairies.

'
I want you to meet Nikollai Yezhov,' the Georgian said.

Still, no
t fully returned to the reality of Comrade Stalin's office, Georgii looked up, and then rubbing his eyes in disbelief, he had the shock of his life. In front of him, holding out his hand for Georgii to shake was none other than the Lithuanian office boy, the one that had disappeared. Georgii instinctively held out his hand, but the Lithuanian still had an ace up his sleeve to play.

As Georgii shook the Lithuanian
's hand, he felt Yezhov tickle the inside of his palm with his middle finger.  Yezhov then winked at him and Georgii instinctively recoiled. But it was too late. The two men facing him were killing themselves with laughter. He didn't share their warped sense of humour. Georgii Radetzky did not like being the 'Butt' of other people's sick jokes. The two men, knowingly, that they had touched on a tender spot, guffawed. Radetzky felt sick.

It was the Georgian that broke the ice.
'Come on Comrade Radetzky, it was only a little bit of fun. You 'Ex' Okhrana people have no sense of humour!  Come on!'

Yezhov took
'The Boss' over to the corner of the office; they spoke slightly out of earshot. Georgii couldn't really make out what they were saying and he still felt ever so slightly humiliated by the perverse antics of the Lithuanian dwarf. Yezhov disappeared again into the wall.

Stalin beckoned Radetzky to follow.
Georgii thought to himself by God if they try to pull another stroke like that then, be damned, he would kill them both with his bare hands.

What Georgii didn
't know, was that he was in for the shock of his life. Not even the cunning Georgian or the slimy midget saw this one coming.

The Georgian whispered into Radetzky
's ear,' I'm going to take you to see your friend. He's in conference with Lev Trotsky at the moment. It's usually very interesting when these two meet.'

The journey to
Trotsky's apartment seemed like an age. Eventually they arrived at their hidden destination. Georgii peered through a tiny hole and into the apartment. It was the same apartment that he himself had been summoned to. Trotsky and Gerhardt sat in the two wing chairs. The talking was clear and to the point. But Georgii Radetzky was more than aware that he was coming in halfway through the conversation.

'
I have some bad news to report Comrade,' Gerhardt said.

'
And that is ...' Trotsky replied.

'
It would seem that Comrade Radetzky is now working for 'Koba'.'

'
Is that going to be a problem for us Gerhardt?'

'
I don't know. But his working for 'The Commissar for The Nationalities', could present us with many problems. The main concern for us is, has he completed our assignment? Has he been 'Got At', and, as a result of having been 'Got At', has he changed sides?'

'
I see, I see! But let us rewind back to the winter. You told me that this man was reliable. You told me that if you told him to jump over a cliff, this man, Georgii Radetzky, was stupid enough to do it. You later told me that we would use him to finish off Sverdlov's investigation and then we would kill him when he became surplus to requirement ...!  Am I right or am I wrong.'

Georgii had now started to experien
ce a sinking feeling in his gut. He looked away and towards Stalin. In the half-light of the secret corridor the Georgian was watching him with great interest. Georgii peered back into the room.

'
In your wisdom, you are so right, but you are wrong about one thing. Georgii Radetzky is no fool. I have known him for a long time and I tell you this do not underestimate him. Also remember this; he is the man that had you arrested when you were running the St Petersburg Soviet. He is not, Comrade, to be trifled with. Leave him to me; I know exactly how to handle him.'

'
Gerhardt, I don't like losers. But since this man came to work for us, he has come up with exactly nothing. All he's managed to do so far is go down with 'The Fever', and make us a whole series of unkept promises.' Trotsky paused for a minute and then carried on.  'Get that incomplete file off him and then we can present it to 'The Central Committee.' As the English say we kill two birds with one stone. First we knock out that 'Georgian Crook' and then we cover our tracks and kill your protégé! No one will ever know, how, or by whom we ever came by the incriminating evidence. Hey, we will both be in the clear!'

'
That was always the plan. But remember it was me, Comrade that set the ball rolling in the first place. It was me, acting on information received, that put Sverdlov onto Koba's trail. Remember Goldstein, he was working, all the time, for me!'  Gerhardt said.

Georgii gazed on in sheer disbelief.
The pain in his stomach had reached an excruciating level. It felt like, any minute now, that his appendix was going to burst. Not for the first time or the last, was Georgii Radetzky to be in on, and witness, his own betrayal. He just stood there, frozen in shock. He felt a hand tug at his arm and the Georgian led him down the concealed passageway.

Back in Stalin
's office Georgii sat down; it was one of those times in his life when he was entirely speechless. The Georgian went into the adjacent office and came back with a bottle of vodka and two glasses. Before he sat down he poured out a generous measure for Georgii.