Charlie’s Apprentice

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Eduard looked up at Tudin. ‘What’s this? What’s happening?’

‘What’s got to happen,’ said Tudin. He had to avoid leading as much as possible. It was too late now to wonder if he should have established in advance some questioning routine with the lawyer: he wished he had thought about it earlier.

‘I don’t understand what’s going on here!’ protested Eduard.

‘Do you understand why you’ve been arrested?’

The frown creased the younger man’s face again. ‘Of course I do! What sort of a question is that?’

The arrogance had to be extinguished. Suddenly loud-voiced, Tudin said: ‘A question you’ve got to answer! Properly! Like you’ve got properly to answer every other question that’s put to you by us today. You’ve got to understand something, Eduard Igorevich. Your mother can’t help you. I can.’

‘What is this?’ Eduard repeated. The indignation was very weak.

‘Why do you think we’re from your mother’s department?’

‘Obvious, isn’t it?’

Tudin decided he had to lead this fool, just a little. ‘You were in charge of an illegal convoy of narcotic and medical drugs, as well as black-market material.’

Eduard’s eyes went between the note-taker and Tudin. He said nothing.

‘Answer me.’

Eduard’s shoulders moved up and down. ‘I haven’t been charged with anything yet.’

‘If you don’t start behaving properly – sensibly – you will be charged. The combined offences carry a maximum penalty of forty-five years’ imprisonment. Think about that: forty-five years. You’d be sixty-eight years old when you were released …’ Tudin sniggered. ‘Not really possible to imagine something like that, is it?’ Tudin knew at once the barb had deeply embedded itself.

Eduard’s tongue came out snakelike over his lower lip and he was frowning again, trying to grasp the import of what he was being told. Striving to find a way out from the pressure, he said: ‘Tell me what you want me to do. To say.’

‘In your own words – as fast or as slowly as you like – I want you to tell us everything leading up to your arrest on the Serpukhov road.’

The flickering smile came at last. ‘I don’t think I can talk about what happened on the Serpukhov road – if indeed anything did happen on the Serpukhov road – until I have had a chance to talk with a lawyer.’

Tudin suppressed his fury at this juvenile posturing. ‘What about after you were brought here? And your mother came to see you?’

‘What do you want?’ wailed Eduard. ‘What does she want me to say or do? Help me!’

He had to take the risk. Tudin said: ‘That’s what it comes down to, Eduard Igorevich. Helping you. That’s what your mother was going to do, wasn’t it?’

‘Going to?’ snatched the younger man, catching the ball that Tudin threw him.

Getting there, thought Tudin: it was slow but he was getting there. ‘We know about your meeting here. What was said: all of what was said.’ Beside him Alipov shifted, and Tudin wondered if it was at what he was saying or merely weariness, at having to stand for so long. They really should have discussed the approach, before this confrontation.

‘So?’

‘Tell us what she promised you: what you always understood your protection would be, if you got arrested …’ Tudin nodded towards the waiting secretary. ‘He’ll take it all down.’

‘You’re not from my mother, are you?’

‘I’ve already told you, she can’t help you,’ stated Tudin, flatly. ‘I can. But you’ve got to cooperate.’

‘How can you help me?’ demanded Eduard, quickly again. The tongue reappeared, more nervously than before. And he was beginning to perspire, worsening the already long-unwashed smell.

‘Immunity,’ declared Tudin, shortly. Alipov shifted again. Tudin hoped the lawyer didn’t interrupt or try to introduce caveats. Tudin knew himself so close to success he felt he could reach out to touch it.

Eduard’s nervousness remained, but there was a slyness now. ‘What’s happened to my mother?’

‘She’s exceeded her authority. By undertaking to protect you.’ It was an exaggeration but only he knew it: and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration when he’d made his complaint, based upon what this snivelling, self-serving little bastard was shortly going to tell him.

Eduard’s smile was hopeful. ‘You said immunity.’

‘If you make a full statement, about everything she said to you … tell us about why you were so sure you would always be protected by her … I’ll intercede on your behalf.’

‘I couldn’t do that without talking about why I’m here,’ bargained Eduard, smiling longer this time. ‘That’s more serious for me than anything involving my mother. The two are too inextricably mixed up, anyway.’

‘I’ll get you immunity from any criminal prosecution, too,’ conceded Tudin.

‘No accusations about anything?’ pressed the young man, determined to clarify the deal he was being offered.

‘None.’

It took two hours. Alipov quickly broke in, at the beginning, to stop Eduard performing for an imagined audience, insisting instead upon a cohesive account, stopping and questioning the lank-haired man every time he veered off on a self-important tangent. It took another hour for the deposition to be typed, over Eduard’s signature. Tudin witnessed it, as the interrogator. Alipov signed, as the independent legal arbiter.

Eduard said: ‘I’ve done all that you wanted?’

‘Yes,’ agreed Tudin.

‘I want to get out of this shit-hole.’

Tudin had not expected such an immediate demand but he was prepared for it. ‘I’ll arrange it as quickly as I can.’

Kapitsa was waiting in his second-floor office. ‘I didn’t expect you to be so long.’

‘Read this,’ demanded Tudin, curtly, offering the deposition.

It took Kapitsa three cigarettes to get through the document. He came up hesitantly and said: ‘Where is this going to be used?’

‘Before an inquiry into the activities of General Natalia Nikandrova Fedova,’ declared Tudin. ‘You will be required to testify as well.’

There was a further moment of uncertainty. Then Kapitsa said: ‘Yes. I understand.’

Late that evening, when they were quite alone back at Yasenevo, the lawyer said: ‘What authority do you have, offering that lout immunity from prosecution?’

‘None,’ admitted Tudin, casually. ‘I’ll recommend it, like I said. If the Federal Prosecutor doesn’t agree, that’s fine by me. Eduard Igorevich can be prosecuted. But after he’s testified against his mother.’ It was a wonderful feeling to have won: like the best drinking experience he had ever had.

It was the smallest class for a very long time, only three students, and they were all evasive and uncomfortable when Snow questioned them about the others, variously insisting they did not know the reason for the absences. Li arrived in the middle of the lesson, sending the familiar frisson through the room, and the priest accepted the pointlessness, quickly ending the session.

‘I have my photographs,’ announced the man, offering the packet. ‘I am very pleased with them.’

Snow accepted the folder, without opening it, not knowing what else to do or say.

‘Aren’t you going to look?’

Snow shuffled with forced slowness through the pictures, sure he was remaining impassive, mentally matching print for print, realizing that nothing Li had taken during their journey had been omitted.

The Shanghai prints were last. There were five, the same number that he had taken of the warships and proudly sent to London. But there were no warships in any of these shots. The positioning was the same and the lighting was the same and the time of day was the same but Snow knew they were not the same. The innocuous and quite meaningless photographs had to have been taken subsequently, after the flotilla had sailed.

‘Now I can have mine, in exchange, can’t I?’ smiled Li.