sit there very long, he decided. He hoped Kalenin didn’t engage in the ambiguity he’d shown Snare and Harrison. There was little reason why he should.
‘A wise man always breaks his exercise by sensible rest periods,’ opened Charlie.
‘Yes,’ agreed Kalenin.
Both spoke without looking at each other.
‘This is my fourth Sunday here,’ complained Kalenin. ‘I was beginning to think Snare had missed the point during our conversation at the embassy.’
‘How is he?’ asked Charlie. Snare wouldn’t have enquired after his well-being had the situation been reversed, Charlie reflected. He was glad Kalenin was going to avoid nuance and innuendo.
‘Perfectly all right,’ assured the Russian.
‘There’ll be a suspicion if he’s not accused or released soon,’ warned Charlie.
‘I know,’ agreed Kalenin, looking along the bench for the first time. ‘I want to get it over with as soon as possible.’
‘How soon?’
‘Three weeks?’
Charlie looked back at the Russian, frowning.
‘That’s very short,’ he protested.
‘But very possible,’ argued Kalenin. ‘There has been arranged for months that I should make a visit to Czechoslovakia …’
‘… So the crossing would be into Austria …?’
Kalenin nodded. ‘Difficult?’ he queried.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Charlie. ‘We’ve got a pretty strong system there.’
‘So it would suit you?’
‘Yes. I think it would be perfect.’
Kalenin shivered, conscious of the cold.
‘The Americans are deeply involved,’ announced the General, unexpectedly.
Charlie was suddenly attentive.
‘What do you mean?’
‘They identified both Snare and Harrison to our people … I had to act …’
Charlie laughed, surprised.
‘The bastards,’ he judged mildly.
‘If Harrison hadn’t run, our people wouldn’t have shot him. They’re trained to react that way.’
‘I know,’ accepted the Briton, remembering Checkpoint Charlie. ‘Why do people always run?’
‘Lack of experience,’ recorded Kalenin, sadly. ‘And neither he nor Snare were very good. It would have been difficult for them to have avoided suspicion.’
The same assessment that Berenkov had made, recalled Charlie. He was glad he had the tape recorder.
‘Why would Washington do it?’ probed Charlie, still conscious of the recording.
‘Involvement,’ said Kalenin, looking surprised at Charlie’s question. ‘They don’t know of you, do they?’
‘I hope not.’
‘They suspect somebody is here, though,’ said the General. ‘They’ve alerted their embassy staff.’
The K.G.B. would have an excellent monitoring system on the American embassy, Charlie knew. He supposed Washington would be aware of it: it would have been safer for them to have sent the instructions in the diplomatic bag. The mistake showed a lack of planning, decided Charlie. Or panic.
‘Have they listed the name of Charles Muffin?’ asked the Briton. He’d had to register in the hotel under his real identity and knew it would take little more than a day to check the hotels on the Intourist list.
‘No,’ reassured the General. ‘They just know somebody is coming.’
So Cuthbertson was keeping him anonymous to the Americans. Thank God.
‘Who’s working on the request?’ asked Charlie.
‘The new C.I.A. station chief is a man called Cox,’ identified Kalenin. ‘A sportsman … runs around the embassy.’
‘We won’t meet again,’ stipulated Charlie, protectively. He was leaving the following night and knew that unless he monitored Kalenin’s movements, which was virtually impossible, Cox could never discover his presence in the capital. If there
‘There’ll be no need,’ said Kalenin. He was silent for several moments. Then he asked, ‘Will Washington provide the money?’
‘On the promise of participation, I would expect so,’ responded Charlie. ‘If they won’t, Whitehall will …’ he smiled. ‘… they’re extraordinarily keen to get you across.’
Kalenin grinned back.
‘It feels strange to be so important.’
‘You never had any doubts, did you?’ asked Charlie.
Kalenin shrugged. ‘I was concerned the request wouldn’t have been taken seriously.’
Charlie thought back to the last dispute with the Director and Cuthbertson’s insistence that the defection was genuine. The little man was very convincing, thought Charlie. But then security men were often excellent actors.
The Briton became conscious that Kalenin was studying him minutely.
‘You’re recording this meeting?’ the Russian demanded, expectantly.
‘Whitehall will need some proof, other than my word.’
‘Of course,’ accepted Kalenin. ‘But it would be awkward if the tape were found at the airport.’
‘It won’t be,’ promised Charlie.
‘Just in case, I’d better guarantee the flight,’ cautioned Kalenin.
Momentarily Charlie hesitated, then gave the flight number of the aircraft in which he was leaving Moscow on the Monday night. It was getting very cold and there was still a lot to discuss, Charlie realised.
‘Shall we walk?’ invited Kalenin and Charlie stood, gratefully, falling into step beside the Russian. The man couldn’t be more than five feet tall, thought Charlie. Maybe less.
‘The Americans will mark the dollar notes,’ warned the Russian.
‘I expect so,’ agreed Charlie.
‘So the money will be worthless.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Charlie.
‘That won’t do,’ protested Kalenin.
‘I can ask for it in advance of the cross-over and “wash” it,’ offered Charlie.
‘It’s important to do so.’
‘I know that,’ said Charlie.
‘I’ll need to know that it’s been done.’
They turned on to a bisecting path.
‘What date do you have in mind?’
‘The nineteenth,’ said Kalenin. That will give me a week in Prague.’
‘We’ll need to meet again,’ said Charlie.
‘You’ll have to be careful of the Americans,’ continued Kalenin. ‘They might leak it to the
‘I’ll think of something,’ promised Charlie. After today’s meeting there could be protection in American presence, he decided.
They walked in silence for several minutes.
‘Alexei Berenkov is probably my best friend,’ Kalenin announced, suddenly.
‘Yes,’ prompted Charlie.
‘How is he adapting to prison?’
‘Badly,’ said Charlie, honestly.
‘He would,’ agreed Kalenin. ‘He’s not a man to be caged.’
