small office in a small town. You remember this punishment, Leo? Raisa? Exile. You both suffered it yourself.
Raisa asked:
– Where is your wife?
– She left me.
Preempting their condolences, Grachev added:
– By mutual agreement. We have a son. He has ambitions. My relocation would ruin his chances. We have to be practical.
Grachev stuffed his hands into his pockets:
– If you came for my help, I am afraid my situation has deteriorated.
Raisa glanced at Leo, her eyes asking whether it was worth explaining their predicament. Grachev spotted her reaction:
– Talk to me, if not because I can help, then as conversation between like-minded friends.
Embarrassed, Raisa blushed:
– I am sorry.
– Think nothing of it.
She quickly explained:
– Elena, our adopted daughter, has been taken from us and admitted to a psychiatric hospital in Kazan. She never recovered from the murder of her sister. I had arranged for her to see a doctor on an unofficial basis.
Grachev shook his head, interjecting:
– Nothing is unofficial.
Raisa tensed:
– The doctor promised not to make any records of her treatment. I believed him. When she didn’t respond to his treatment…
– He committed her in order to protect himself?
Raisa nodded. Grachev considered, before adding, as an afterthought:
– I fear none of us will recover from Zoya’s murder.
Surprised by this comment, Leo sought an explanation:
– None of us? I don’t understand.
– Forgive me. It is unfair to compare the wider consequences to the grief you must feel.
– What wider consequences?
– We needn’t go into that now. You’re here to help Elena Leo interrupted:
– No, tell me, what wider consequences?
The major perched atop a box. He looked at Raisa, then Leo:
– Zoya’s death changed everything.
Leo stared at him blankly. Grachev continued:
– The murder of a young girl to punish a former State Security officer, along with some fifteen or more retired officers hunted down and executed, several tortured. These events shook the authorities. They’d released this vory woman from the Gulags. What was her name?
Leo and Raisa replied at the same time:
– Fraera.
– Who else might they have released? Many hundreds of thousands of prisoners are coming home; how will we govern if even a fraction of their number behave like her? Will her revenge start a chain reaction culminating in the collapse of rule and order? There will be civil war once more. Our country will be ripped down the middle. This is the new fear. Steps have been taken to prevent this from happening.
– What steps?
– An air of permissiveness has crept into our society. Did you know there are authors writing satirical prose? Dudintsev has written a novel- Not by Bread Alone. The State and officials are openly mocked, in print. What follows next? We allow people to criticize. We allow people to oppose our rule. We allow people to take revenge. Authority that once was strong suddenly seems fragile.
– Have there been similar reprisals across the country?
– When I spoke about wider consequences I wasn’t merely referring to incidents within our country. There are reprisals across all the territories under our rule. Look at what happened in Poland. Riots were precipitated by Khrushchev’s speech. Anti-Soviet sentiment is stirring throughout Eastern Europe, Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia…
Leo was shocked:
– The speech has traveled?
– The Americans have it. They have printed it in their newspapers. It has become a weapon against us. It is perceived that we have dealt ourselves a terrible blow. How are we to continue the global revolution when we confess to such murderous acts against our own people? Who would want to join our cause? Who would want to become our comrades?
The major paused, wiping the sweat from his brow. Leo and Raisa were now crouching before him, like children captivated by a story. He continued:
– After Zoya’s murder everyone who argued for reform, including myself, was silenced. Even Khrushchev was forced to retract many of the criticisms he made in his speech.
– I didn’t know that.
– You were grieving, Leo. You buried your daughter. You buried your friend. You were not paying attention to the world around you. While you mourned, a revised speech was written.
– Revised how?
– The admissions of summary executions and torture were cut. This document was published one month after Zoya’s murder. I’m not claiming Fraera’s revenge was the only contributing factor. But those murders were important. They made a graphic case for the traditionalists. Khrushchev had no choice: a Central Committee resolution rewrote his speech. Stalin was no longer a murderer: he merely made errors. The system wasn’t at fault. Any minor mistakes were Stalin’s alone. It was the Secret Speech, without the secrets.
His mind turning these facts over, Leo remarked:
– My department’s failure to stop these murders was the reason they closed us down.
– No. That’s an excuse. They never approved of the homicide department. They never liked me for helping to create it. Your department was part of the creeping culture of permissiveness. Leo, we moved too quickly. Freedoms are won slowly, bit by bit-they have to be fought for. The forces that desire change, myself included, marched too far and too fast. We were arrogant. We overreached ourselves. We underestimated those who want to protect and preserve power as it was.
– They’ve ordered me to rejoin the KGB.
– That would be a potent symbol. The reformed MGB agent folded back into the traditional power structures. They’re using you. You must allow yourself to be used. If I were you, Leo, I would be very careful. Do not believe that they will behave any more kindly than Stalin. His spirit lives on, not in one person, but diffused, in many people. It’s harder to see but make no mistake: it is there.
Outside the apartment Leo took hold of Raisa’s hands:
– I’ve been blind.
BLIZHNYA DACHA KUNTSEVO TWENTY KILOMETERS WEST OF MOSCOW
This was Frol Panin’s second visit to Blizhnya Dacha, one of Stalin’s former residences, now open to families of the ruling elite as a retreat. The decision had been taken that the residence was not to be closed down or turned into a museum. The dacha was to remain filled with children playing, staff cooking, and the ruling elite slouched on creaking leather chairs, ice cubes clanking as they sipped their drinks. Upon Stalin’s death it had been discovered that the liquor cabinet contained bottles filled with imitation alcohol, weak tea instead of scotch, water for vodka,
