Inside the terminal he walked towards the passport check, his solitary bag in his hand. He had the special tag that ensured that inside the Soviet Union it had the same status as a diplomatic bag. As he approached the bench he saw Yakov beside the KGB document man who lifted a flap and waved Aarons inside.
Yakov shook hands and nodded. “Let me take your bag.”
“It’s OK. I’ve got security material in it for Beletsky and Denikin.”
“We have to check everything. Let’s go in the office.”
Yakov took Aarons’ arm quite firmly and led him to a corridor. At the far end was a door that said, simply, “State Security.” Yakov leaned forward, opened the door and waved Aarons inside. Aarons saw with surprise that it wasn’t an office, it was an interrogation room with the standard solid table, facing chairs and ceiling lights behind a metal cage. He stopped and looked at Yakov.
“What’s going on?”
“Sit down, comrade.” Yakov pointed at one of the heavy chairs at the interrogation table.
“Are you crazy?” Aarons’ voice was raised and Yakov tried to calm him.
“Sit down for God’s sake. Let me talk to you. Let me explain.”
“You do that, my friend. Right now.”
“Some problems have arisen concerning you. We just have to straighten things out.” He paused. “It’s a question of your relationship with a defector.”
“And who might that be?”
“Lensky.”
“Jakob Lensky?”
“Yes.”
“And you claim that he’s a defector?”
“There are people who say that.”
“More fools them.”
Yakov shrugged. “Let me check your bag and then we’ll go into Moscow.”
Aarons handed over the cheap metal keys to his case and stood watching as Yakov took everything out. A couple of paperback novels, a change of underwear, two shirts, toilet and shaving kit and a large bar of chocolate. And at the bottom the fat manilla envelope and its bulging contents. Yakov took out each file, checked the title, looked at a few pages and then put them back in the envelope. He packed everything back into the case, snapped the locks and took hold of the case, looking at Aarons as he said, “Let’s go.”
He led Aarons out to a parking lot at the rear of the offices. A uniformed driver opened the rear door of a black Zil. Twenty minutes later as they went over the bridge Aarons realised that they were heading for Dzherdzhinski Square and the headquarters of the KGB. It seemed crazy. He was a colonel in the KGB but he had only once been to the HQ building before. Yakov had not spoken on the journey but as they walked up the stone steps of the headquarters building Yakov said, “Have you met Petrenko before?”
“Yes. Only once.”
“And Noskov? The red-haired fellow.”
“Yes, I’ve met him once some time back.”
“Those two are waiting to talk to you.”
Aarons had had time enough to collect himself and he said, “Let’s go then, comrade Yakov. Let’s go.”
Yakov took his arm and they walked along a corridor and down two flights of stone steps to another corridor. At the far end was a steel door. Yakov pushed the bell button beside the door and a red light flashed momentarily as Yakov pushed open the door.
It was a rectangular room about twenty feet by ten feet, heavy carpets and panelled walls. The only furniture was a quite long table with chairs on either side. There were no windows and the lights were behind circular metal fittings. Petrenko and Noskov sat side by side at the far end of the table. Yakov pushed him forward towards them and turning, left the room, closing the door behind him.
Noskov pointed to a chair opposite the two of them. “Sit down, Aarons.” For a moment Aarons was angry enough to refuse but he decided to go along with the farce.
“You know that Lensky has defected?”
“No. I didn’t know that. When did it happen?”
“He visited you in New York recently and you deny that he was a defector?”
“He was passing through and we met briefly a couple of times. But there was no indication that he was a defector. And I don’t believe he is.”
“We’re not interested in your opinion, comrade.” Noskov paused. “Why do you think he contacted you in New York?”
“I’ve known him since I was a child. He was always my contact when I came to Moscow. I admired him.”
“What did he tell you when he contacted you in New York?”
“He told me that he was very, very tired because of his age. He needed a rest. He was going to Israel and he would do work for the Party from time to time if it was needed.”
“And you would supply him with information.”
Aarons leaned forward, elbows on the table. “You’re wasting your time. And you’re wasting my time too. I came over to talk about the material I’m getting for Beletsky and Denikin. This talk of Lensky being a defector is ridiculous. An old man who’s worked all his life for the Party and in his seventies he needs a rest—and idiots like you accuse him of being a defector.”
Noskov’s face flushed in anger. “Watch your words, comrade Aarons. Watch your words.” Petrenko touched Noskov’s arm as if to calm him down and Noskov jerked his arm away in irritation. “Maybe it is time you were brought back to Moscow. Maybe you need reminding what loyalty to the Party really means.” He paused for a moment. “And of course you will deny that your friend Maria was also a defector.”
“I don’t know who you are talking about.”
“Of course not—Maria Consuela Garcia. You’ve never heard of her?”
“No. I haven’t.”
“She was on the same Comintern training course as you. You and she had special KGB training together after the course. You remember her now?”
Aarons nodded, “That was years ago, long before the war and …”
“And you were with her much later in Mexico City—yes?”
“Yes. I’d forgotten about that.”
“And your
