He paused and he was shaking visibly, his whole body trembling as if tormented by an ague.
“That is all I have to say. That is all that needs to be said. This trial is a farce and the laws of the Soviet Union are being abused in this process. The evidence of the poltroons you bring as witnesses shows how hopeless this prosecution must be.” He paused and closed his eyes. When he opened them again he said, “You will see that I am trembling, comrades. Make no mistake. I do not tremble from fear. Not even from illness. Oh, no. I tremble because I have been beaten near to death to make me give false evidence that would incriminate me. All my life I have worked loyally for the Party. I ask that those who know me and know my record will step in and punish those people who have so infamously brought this case to the court. I ask not for mercy but for justice. The justice that I sought for all of us when I first walked with my fellow-workers holding that beautiful red flag above our heads. You may cause my death but it will not be execution—it will be murder. Murder from others’ greed, jealousy and ambition.” He seemed to hesitate before his final words, gulping for air before he said, “People in the pay of our enemies, the Germans.”
There was a sudden murmur in the courtroom, quickly stopped by the angry face of the senior judge. He kept his eyes away from Zagorsky as he said, “The judgement of the People’s Court will be promulgated after due consideration.”
The officers stood up and filed to the door and Josef and Anna saw two policemen carry Zagorsky from the witness box. They handled him quite gently.
Outside it was beginning to rain and Josef was glad that it was, so that the rain could hide the tears on Anna’s face.
Despite her anxiety to get back to their son she had insisted that they went to the church at the back of the museum. And there she prayed and wept, with Josef standing awkwardly beside her, his hand just touching her shoulder.
They went back to Warsaw and they heard rumours that Zagorsky had been sent to one of the Siberian labour-camps and other rumours that he had been shot the same day, after the trial, at the Lubyanka building.
The treatment meted out to Zagorsky and the totally spurious trial frightened and angered them both. They said nothing to anybody about their feelings. Even between themselves there was a reluctance to admit their disillusion with the Party.
The breaking point came when Anna had to take notes of a meeting where the annexation of Poland was being recommended. Half of Poland would become the Polish Soviet State and a rump would be left that the planners were willing to leave to be annexed in due course by Germany. Hearing Poles describe the annexation of their own country, and listening to the details of how its industry and agriculture would serve the Soviet Union had sickened her.
They walked the streets of Warsaw that night, Josef carrying the small boy in his arms as they talked. Anna wanted to get away, anywhere, and quickly. Josef knew that there was no chance of planning their escape. Anna wouldn’t be able to dissemble her feelings long enough. She was ready to carry on for a few days, but no longer. He told her that they would leave at the weekend, starting their journey on the Friday night. If anyone saw them they would say they were having a weekend break in the country.
There was little preparation that Josef could make. They would have to leave their few possessions behind them. But fortunately, like most underground party members, he had always kept their meagre savings in cash, and they both had Soviet passports. He still had his British passport and he tucked their marriage certificate inside it.
Josef bought tickets for only the journey from Warsaw to Łodz. And there he booked them onto the night train to Berlin. At the German frontier there were no problems when they presented their USSR passports. In Berlin they found a cheap lodging house. Josef calculated that he had enough money for them to live frugally for six weeks while they decided what to do.
After a few days Josef realised that because he didn’t speak German it was going to be difficult to find work. His Russian and smattering of Polish he was afraid to use in case there were local Party members who would check up on him and cause trouble. Having worked in the Cheka he knew that it had its people in every big European city. As the days went by he became desperate for anything that would provide some income. It was then that he took a job as a dish-washer in the kitchens of a night-club on the Kurfurstendamm. He worked long hours and the wages were just enough to pay for their room and food, and his share of the tips went on clothes and other necessities. After six months he was promoted to serving drinks in the bar, where his English was useful with American and English tourists.
The club’s main business came from foreigners. Businessmen on a night out, looking for a girl, and long-term visitors like reporters and a sprinkling of writers and painters.
He had heard nothing about how the news of their escape had been received in Warsaw and Moscow because he had no contacts back there and had no intention of trying to find out.
It was two weeks before their first Christmas in Berlin and he had bought cakes and a bunch
