Archive 17

“There are some other documents.” The professor spoke quietly, as if afraid the statues might be listening.

“Well, what are we waiting for? May I see them?”

“No. That’s the problem. You may not.”

“But why not?”

“There exists a set of papers known as the Blue File.”

“I have never heard of it.”

“Few people have. The contents of the file are secret. Even the existence of the file is classified information.”

“What’s so special about it?”

“The Blue File contains the names of spies who operated within the Okhrana.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” protested Kirov. “Back then all Russian spies operated within the Okhrana. They were part of the Tsar’s Secret Service. They answered to the Okhrana.”

“You misunderstand me, Comrade Major. The Blue File does not contain the names of Russian agents who spied for the Okhrana. These were agents who spied on the Okhrana.”

Kirov blinked. “You mean to tell me there were agents who spied on our own Secret Service?”

Braninko nodded.

“But the Secret Service controlled all spying operations!” protested Kirov. “Who would these agents answer to?”

“To the Tsar,” replied Braninko. “And only to the Tsar.”

Kirov was stunned. “And the Okhrana did not know about this?”

“That is correct. Even the great Chief Inspector Vassileyev was unaware of it.”

“Then why was the file discovered at Okhrana headquarters?”

“It wasn’t,” Braninko explained. “This file was found in a locked desk in the Tsar’s study. In the chaos of the Revolution, he forgot to dispose of the documents. Either that, or he could not bring himself to destroy them.”

“Why is it called the Blue File?”

“The entries are written in blue pencil. It is the Tsar’s own writing.”

“And who else knows about this file?”

“Let me put it this way, Major-I have taken a great risk by even informing you of its existence.”

“But Ryabov might be in there!”

“Once again, Major, there is that possibility, but let me ask you something. What is it exactly that you need to know?”

“I’m not sure,” replied Kirov. “If Inspector Pekkala were here …”

Braninko breathed in sharply. “Pekkala?”

“Yes,” answered Kirov. “He and I work together.”

Braninko’s head tilted a little to the side, like that of a curious dog. “You work with the Inspector?”

“I am also an inspector, you know.”

“I didn’t say an inspector,” replied Braninko. “I said the Inspector.”

“All right, then,” muttered Kirov. “I work with the Inspector, and if he were here-”

“Why isn’t he here?” interrupted Braninko. “He would be allowed to see the Blue File.”

“Why would you let him see it and not me?”

Braninko paused before he answered. “Do you remember what I said about men who hide the truth?”

“You called them common criminals.”

“Correct, and the only defense against them is men like Inspector Pekkala. No matter what the regulations called for, I would never do anything to hinder one of his investigations.”

“Comrade Braninko, this is his investigation.” Kirov went on to explain Pekkala’s mission to Borodok. “Now can you help me or not?” he asked when he had finished.

“Follow me,” replied Braninko.

At the back of the old sculpture studio, a massive safe stood in the corner of an otherwise empty room. After opening the safe, Braninko removed a drawer which had been removed from a desk. The drawer was made from some exotic wood, inlaid with ornate flower patterns done in ebony and mother-of-pearl.

“As you see,” Braninko told Kirov, “they took it straight from the Tsar’s study. These documents have never been integrated with those of our own Intelligence Service.” Turning to the file, Braninko began sifting through the documents. “Here it is!” he exclaimed, hauling out an envelope. “Ryabov, Isaac; assigned to the Kolchak Expedition.”

The younger man felt his heart jolt. “Now we can find out what this man was doing before the Revolution.”

“It won’t be that easy, Major. There is a good reason NKVD has so little information on this man. Isaac Ryabov is a cover name. Unlike in Okhrana and NKVD archives, the real identities of agents working secretly for the Tsar were never written down. When Nicholas II died, the names of these men died with him. All we have left are the clues remaining in the Blue File, but if there is anyone on earth who could make sense of them, it would be Inspector Pekkala.”

Kirov stared at the Tsar’s handwriting, precise and ornate. The faded blue pencil resembled the veins in an old person’s hand. “May I borrow this, professor?”

“For Inspector Pekkala-of course.” Braninko handed him the time-brittled paper.

The two men walked out into the sculpture studio.

Once more Kirov breathed in the smell of that long-extinguished fire which had consumed Okhrana headquarters.

Braninko sat down on the huge severed hand, looking like some tiny helpless creature resting in the palm of a capricious god as he waited for his fate to be decided.

“There is something I don’t understand,” Kirov told him. “Why does our government choose to keep the Blue File secret? The Okhrana is gone forever. The men whose names are in that file are either dead or in exile. The information it contains should no longer be considered classified.”

Braninko smiled, raising his hands and resting them upon the fingertips of the great bronze hand. “My dear Comrade Major,” he said, “the reason for keeping the Blue File secret has nothing to do with what it contains. The very fact that there was once a group of men who spied upon those whose job it was to spy on others is, in itself, a dangerous thing. It might lead people to wonder if there is another such file kept, perhaps, by our own government and hidden away in the desk of some untouchable man. The best secret, Comrade Major, is not one whose answer is hidden from us by the strongest lock and key. The best secret is one which nobody even knows exists.”

As soon as he was outside the archive, Kirov ducked into one of the abandoned warehouse buildings. With his back against a cold brick wall, he opened the Kolchak Expedition file. It contained three sheets of paper. Each was embossed with the double-headed eagle of the Romanovs.

From the Tsar’s handwritten notes, Kirov learned that an Okhrana agent had been wounded in an attack on a house in St. Petersburg where a convicted murderer had been hiding. The murderer, whose name was Grodek, had been a notorious terrorist before the Revolution.

Kirov had learned about this mission from Pekkala, who had been a part of it. But what Kirov read next, even Pekkala didn’t know.

Rather than return the wounded agent to active duty, the Tsar had secretly ordered the man’s name to be placed on the list of those who had died in the attack. In the meantime, the agent was brought to a clinic on the grounds of the Ekaterinburg estate. There he was tended to by the Tsar’s own doctor until he had recovered.

The Tsar then summoned the agent and gave him a choice. Either he could return to the ranks of the Okhrana and the report of his death would be attributed to a bureaucratic mix-up, or he could agree to work as an agent for the Tsar, and only for the Tsar, taking part in missions so secret that not even his own intelligence service would be informed.

The agent had required no persuasion. He readily agreed and, soon after, was given a new identity as a cavalry officer with the cover name of Isaac Ryabov.