“You knew that Zagorsky was Polish?”
“I heard that he was. He didn’t mention it himself.”
“Why did you stay in this country?”
“I told you. Comrade Zagorsky said I would be of use and I wanted to help, so I stayed.”
“Why did you continue to stay? Why are you still here?”
“Because this is where I belong.”
“What about your family in England?”
“I have no family in England. I was an orphan. I lived at an orphanage.”
“When do you intend to return to England?”
Josef shrugged. “I had never thought of returning to England.”
“Who gave you permission to stay here?”
“Nobody. I joined the Party and I was given work to do.”
“Do you share your wife’s views on political matters?”
“We are both Bolsheviks, we have no need to discuss our views.”
“But she defends Zagorsky’s actions.”
“I don’t know what actions you refer to.”
“You mean that after all your training you were not able to recognise that Zagorsky was a counter-revolutionary? A traitor, more concerned with the politics of Poland than the security of the Soviet Union?”
“I have seen no evidence that would suggest that he was anything but a loyal Party member.”
“Are you a loyal Party member?”
“Of course.”
“Can you prove that?”
“I don’t know any way of proving it. But it’s a fact.”
“Would you work for the Party in England?”
For only a moment he hesitated and then his training took over.
“I would do anything to establish a fair distribution of work and wealth for the proletariat in Britain.”
“Zagorsky will be tried by the People’s Court tomorrow. Both you and your wife will attend. We may need you as witnesses. If not you will do well to observe what happens to enemies of the people.”
They said nothing to each other about the interviews while they were in the hostel but as they walked the next day to the Cheka buildings he said softly, “Did you make any mistakes at your interview?”
“Only one, I think.”
“What was that?”
“I said that Poland was my country even if I was a Bolshevik. I said that it was possible to be a loyal Bolshevik and a loyal Pole as well.”
“That was stupid, Anna.”
“They provoked me. They referred to Poles as savages. I couldn’t let them get away with that.”
“You should let them get away with anything. It’s just words. And words don’t matter.” He paused. “If they make us witnesses, don’t say anything like that in court.”
“You want me to act like a coward, for God’s sake?”
“No. Not for God’s sake. For our sake and the boy’s sake. We can think of what to do when this is all over.”
The panelled room held no more than two dozen people, and most of those were officials. Josef was surprised to see that the five judges were all in army officers’ uniforms. So was the prosecutor. The defence lawyer, a civilian, was sitting at a small table, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes closed. There were several policemen and soldiers in the court and on a bench below the tall windows were several civilians. Josef recognised two of them from the committee in Petrograd.
The senior of the judges rapped the gavel on the block and the prosecutor stood up, a sheaf of papers in his hand. And only then did the door at the back of the hall open and Zagorsky was led through to the witness box by a uniformed policeman.
The charge was read out. It merely accused him of being an enemy of the State. There were no specific examples or indications of what sort of evidence would be offered to the court.
As Josef looked across the courtroom at Zagorsky he saw him standing there, one hand pressed to his back as if to relieve a pain and Josef guessed that they’d beaten him across his kidneys. It didn’t make too much of a visible bruise but the damage inside was always extreme. Zagorsky stood bent as if he were unable to stand up straight, and his left hand clutched the rail of the witness stand as if to keep himself from falling forward.
The prosecutor made no attempt to establish a coherent case; witnesses were called who quoted what seemed to be quite innocuous criticisms of Party officials who were not meeting Zagorsky’s high standards of performance. His Polish origins were established but not emphasised, and the status of the five witnesses was no more than routine clerks and minor administrators in Zagorsky’s department. The Polish invasion of Kiev was mentioned but not dwelt on, and an hour after he had started the prosecuting lawyer sat down. He had demanded the death penalty for persistent and secret subversion of the security of the State.
When the defence lawyer rose to his feet Zagorsky’s voice rang out, surprisingly loud.
“Dismiss this man. I am defending myself.”
There was a whispered conversation among the judges and the senior officer said that the court would note that Zagorsky had refused the legal aid provided by the State. But if Zagorsky wished to conduct his own case the court would hear him.
Josef had noticed that like the men who had interrogated him they referred to him as Zagorsky not as Comrade Zagorsky or Commissar Zagorsky which was his actual status. They were already distancing him from the Party.
Zagorsky took a deep breath and his voice was clear although he spoke very slowly.
“I quote from the rules of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union. Paragraph four—I quote—‘the promotion, in every possible way, of inner-party democracy, the activity and initiative of the Communists, criticism and self-criticism.’
“I quote from the same document Part One clause three subclauses b and c. I quote—‘A party member has the right to discuss freely questions of the Party’s policies and practical activities at Party meetings, conferences and congresses, at the meetings of Party committees and in the Party press; to table motions; openly to express and uphold his opinion as long as the Party organisation concerned has not adopted a decision; to criticise any Communist, irrespective of the position
