Myron Harper had rooms at the Plaza and that was where they generally met. He was a fan of Scott Fitzgerald and he claimed that some characters in The Great Gatsby had used the Plaza. Myron Harper was the only one of Aarons’ contacts with whom he felt able to be almost entirely frank.
As they settled down in Harper’s living room the writer said, “The word is that the Red Army took half a million prisoners outside Stalingrad. Is that what you heard?”
“Just over three hundred thousand.” He smiled and shrugged. “Nobody’s going to argue if you call it half a million.”
“Have you had any news about North Africa?”
Aarons shook his head. “It’s not an area that interests me. Maybe others cover it.”
“Well maybe you should give it some attention. Or Moscow should. There’s a lot going on there at the moment.”
“Tell me.”
“Eisenhower has taken Patton away from his field command and I understand he’s now responsible for planning the invasion of Sicily. They would only be interested in Sicily to use it as a spring-board for the invasion of Italy. You’ve got a lot of Party members in Italy. Moscow should warn them so that they can have a plan of how to take control as the Americans and the British push out the Germans.”
“I’ll pass it on.”
“You’d better start thinking too about what happens here in America when it’s all over.”
“Why?”
“There are going to be a lot of problems. When the relief and the euphoria are over the servicemen are going to see that everyone here has been making a pile of dollars while they’ve been slogging it out in Europe or the Far East.”
“That’s not going to be the main problem.”
“Oh? What is?”
“We, the Soviet Union—will have beaten the Germans on our own. There’ll be a new power structure after the war. And Russia will be a major power. The Americans won’t like that. The Red Army are heroes now but that’ll change overnight. We’ll be the enemy then.”
Harper smiled. “You’re such a goddam Russian, Andrei. You always see dark clouds ahead. The Red Army’s kicking the shit out of the Wehrmacht in Russia. The Americans and the British are doing the same in North Africa. Italy’s about to be invaded. But for my friend Andrei it’s all a waste of time. What makes you such a pessimist?”
“It’s just that somebody has to look ahead and try to imagine what’s going to happen and how to deal with it.”
“And you’re that someone?”
“Yes.”
“Will you go back to Moscow when the war’s over?”
“I shall do whatever I’m required to do.”
“And your family? Do they have no choice in this?”
“We’ll see when the time comes.” He turned to look at Harper. “And you? What will you do when it’s all over?”
Harper laughed. “I’ll go to Moscow and see what they’re up to. I’ll expect you to tell them to give me the red carpet treatment. An interview with Uncle Joe. A guided tour round the Kremlin and a beautiful Intourist girl to keep me company. Or maybe one of those young lovelies from the Bolshoi.”
Aarons smiled. “I’ll make sure you get everything you want, my friend.”
“Tell me. Does it seem odd to you to be spying for them when you know so little about them?”
“What I do I do for the Party not individuals. And I’m not a spy.”
“What are you then?”
“I’m a bookseller and a citizen.” He smiled. “And sometimes like you I talk to people.”
“How about a game of chess?”
A young boy delivered the note to Aarons. It was from Dr. Zetkin. Klara Zetkin. She sometimes bought second-hand books from the shop. She was half-German and half-Russian and her surgery was in a small house in one of the side roads near the bus-stop.
He had to wait about half an hour before it was his turn. She was a handsome woman in her early forties and had lived in America for at least twenty years.
“I wanted to talk to you, Mr. Aarons, about your wife, Chantal.”
She saw the alarm on his face and she went on. “She’s not well. Not well at all. I thought that I should talk to you first before I talk to her.” She folded her arms and leaned on her small desk. “I’m afraid that I think she has an infectious disease called tuberculosis. She’s going to need a lot of care.”
“How did she get it?” Aarons said quietly.
“At the moment I don’t know. It’s an infection but it can come from eating or drinking infected food. I’ll have to check the rest of the family, you included. Just to make sure that it’s an isolated case.”
“What is the treatment for this?”
“I’ve got to have some X-rays done to locate the actual infection area but I’m almost sure that the trouble is in one of her lungs.” She looked at him. “Forgive me for asking, Mr. Aarons, but do you have money? I’m talking about several thousand dollars.”
“I could try and borrow it. What is it for?”
“For two things. She will need to be in a sanatorium
