‘I would have to check with my secretary.’
‘Well then, the cafeteria downstairs at six if you fail to make it. You must pardon me, but I have to go upstairs. Go straight home tonight, watch what you are doing; we’ll have someone keeping an eye on you from later this evening.’
Dmitry mumbled some thanks.
‘Some other little tips, Dmitry Nikolayevich. When you’re under surveillance, you should never let them know that you know. No looking over your shoulder, jumping off trains just as the doors close, driving your car round two or three corners and stopping suddenly so they nearly run into you. Those kinds of capers are strictly for spy movies.’ Vedyensky patted him on the back. ‘Don’t look so downhearted, Dmitry Nikolayevich, you may have turned up something very important. Really, you are to be congratulated.’ He opened the door and ushered Dmitry into the corridor.
Dmitry left the building and went to his car. He was now in a far worse state than he had been when he had arrived there. He was so disturbed that for a while he did not dare to start the car, he was afraid of crashing it. So now Vedyensky was going to run him like a common spy. He had been told not to talk to the DDG; not to see Katie. Thinking it over, he did not really believe he was in danger; Vedyensky would exaggerate that, it was in his interest to do so.
He drove home deliberately slowly and, once inside the apartment, poured himself a drink. He had better phone Katie, she was meant to be coming over; he would have to put her off. He picked up the phone. As it rang he was tense; he was afraid Bob would answer it. He did. He hung up instantly and put his head in his hand. But he would have to ring; he couldn’t have Katie turn up under these circumstances. He rang again. This time Katie picked up the phone.
‘Yes?’ Her voice sounded uncertain, vulnerable. He knew she had been expecting it to be him.
‘Katie, I can’t see you tonight.’
‘Why not?’
‘There’s something come up at work.’
‘Nihal, I’l1 ring you back later. I was just going out.’ She hung up. Dmitry put the phone down in despair. After fifteen minutes or so Katie rang back. She sounded furious. She said, ‘Why did you ring me like that? You put me in an impossible position. I hate all this. What excuse are you making now?’
‘Katie, can’t we meet tomorrow instead. Something has come up at work.’
‘I don’t believe it. There is nothing that goes on in that place that requires you to be there late in the evening.’
‘No, I’ll be at home – but there’s a report I have to finish.’
She sounded close to tears. ‘If you don’t want to see me, why can’t you just say you don’t want to see me?’
‘Because it isn’t true.’
There was a long silence. Then Katie said, ‘I’m sorry.’ Then she said, ‘I’m freezing – I’m in a call box.’
‘Don’t be sorry. It doesn’t matter. I’ll ring you tomorrow, and we’ll arrange something then.’
‘I can’t stand this.’
‘Yes, I know. I just can’t help it. I don’t want things to be this way.’
‘Well what way do you want them to be?’ asked Katie. ‘It seems to me the way things are suits you very well.’ Her voice was angry and harsh. For a long time Dmitry did not answer; he was on the verge of tears. Finally he said, ‘Katie, don’t give me a hard time. Things are bad enough for me.’
Katie’s voice changed at once. ‘Mitya, what’s the matter? Can’t you tell me what’s the matter?’
Instantly he reassured her. ‘It’s all right, there’s nothing the matter. I have to go, Katie, I promise I’ll call you tomorrow.’
They came at nine, two young men and a girl in a black Mercedes. The girl was attractive, dark, late twenties. She had a large staircase and a bulky shoulder bag. The men carried them upstairs. Dmitry poured out the drinks and they clinked glasses and toasted one another. The girl kept laughing in a high, forced way which irritated Dmitry. She turned on the radio rather loudly and tuned in to some popular music. The two men talked and joked as they opened the suitcase. It contained a large quantity of electronic equipment. The girl’s shoulder bag was also packed with counter-surveillance devices.
First they checked the phone lines. They used a large wiring analyser the size of a small television set, covered with knobs and electronic displays. They were talking politics, laughing and swearing a lot. Then there were some small hand-held instruments with aerials with which the men prowled the flat. The girl, Vera, came and sat beside Dmitry on the sofa. ‘Come, Mitya, don’t look so solemn,’ she said. ‘Aren’t you pleased to see me? You haven’t got another girlfriend, have you? Do you mind if I stay?’
‘Yes,’ said Dmitry, ‘Yes, I do mind, as a matter of fact. Can’t you stay in a hotel?’
‘Do you hear that, Kostya? He wants me to stay in a hotel. You’re not very hospitable, are you? Haven’t you got anything to eat? I’m starving.’ And she went into the kitchen. The men had started a physical search. They seemed to be going through everything; they examined the furniture, curtains, curtain rails, under the carpets, behind the pictures, inside every piece of electrical equipment. Then they went into the bedroom.
They must have been in the apartment for about two hours. Then the man called Kostya came and gave Dmitry a large wink. They packed all the equipment back into the suitcase and drained their glasses. ‘We thought we’d all go out to eat somewhere,’ he said. ‘Want to join us?’
‘Are you really throwing me out?’ asked Vera.
‘Yes, there’s only one bed. Besides, someone else is coming to stay, a friend of mine. And I am too tall for the sofa. Really, let me get your coat. Can’t you stay with Kostya here?’
‘I am a respectable married man. There’s no telling what my wife would say if she saw her.’
They left the suitcase in the flat and all went downstairs. Dmitry went with them; he felt he had to get out of the apartment, and besides, he wanted to ask them what they had found. Kostya climbed into the driving seat and indicated to Dmitry to get into the front. He headed downtown. Dmitry saw him look several times into the rear-view mirror.
‘Well,’ Kostya said, ‘I should say things are fairly heavy. There’s a tap on your line and two concealed bugs – sophisticated devices too, the kind which hop frequencies. And we’ve got a tail. What have you got, then? Atomic secrets, heh?’
Dmitry was feeling rather sick. He wanted to get out, to be on his own and think, but he felt he had nowhere to go to be alone. He was trying to think what he had said over the phone in the last few days, whether he had given anything away. He thought not, he had been very careful. He asked, ‘Where were they, then?’
‘One in each room… I know what you’re thinking. That’s what bothers everyone, them hearing what goes on in your bedroom. Don’t worry, they’ve heard it all. You don’t have any problems, do you? Your girlfriend likes it? Makes a lot of noise, heh? Don’t worry about it.’ And he laughed loudly.
Dmitry made his four-thirty appointment with Vedyensky in the delegate’s lounge. They fetched some tea from the bar and sat down in the large, soft chairs opposite the window; the delegates had just departed back to the meeting and the place was quiet. Vedyensky asked, ‘Did you have a good night?’
‘Not very.’
‘I can see that you feel upset about this. I’m sorry, I may have given you the wrong impression yesterday. You can of course mention your concerns to the DDG. But it all sounds a little fantastic, doesn’t it? In any case, this might be the work of Richter rather than the Brazilians. We will have to see.’
‘But surely they will have to take this seriously.’
‘Look, you know the score as well as I do. The IAEA are powerless in a situation like this. They have no intelligence gathering facilities, they cannot investigate. If you are seriously interested in this being cleared up, Dmitry Nikolayevich, you are much better leaving it to us. Suppose you make a fuss and they are forced to do investigations into all the staff, th
e Brazilians will at once know that the secret is out. It will be much harder to establish what is going on. We have not been unaware of all this, Dmitry Nikolayevich. We have an agent in Brazil.’
Vedyensky paused; he lowered his voice. ‘About Richter. We have been aware of his activities for some time. A copy of an extraordinary document which will prove highly embarrassing has been stolen from the Paraguayan Embassy in Bonn and leaked to the press. I think you know of this already – one of our operations, you understand. They are not going to be able to keep quiet about this for long. No, there will be a big noise about this very soon. Please, just do as I ask and don’t do anything about all this just now. I am only talking of a few days.’
Dmitry shifted impatiently in his seat and sipped his tea. ‘Now this question of your… lady-friend. We’re not very happy about it.’
‘But it’s absurd. I’m sure she knows nothing about it. If you’re suggesting she was somehow planted on me, you’re quite wrong. I met her before I had the first idea…’
‘You met her at Müller’s funeral, didn’t you?’
Was there anything these people didn’t know?
‘Look, I don’t want to talk about this any further. You are making too much of it. It’s distracting you from the main point of this.’
‘Well, perhaps. In any event, you are to be careful, hm? We don’t want anything getting back through her to her husband.’
‘No. Of course not.’
‘As to the next step, please be patient just for a few days.’
‘I’m not happy about this at all. I can’t see any reason …’
‘But there may be reasons you are not aware of, which we are, Dmitry Nikolayevich.’
Dmitry stared gloomily out of the window. Then he said, half under his breath, ‘You can’t actually stop me from talking to the DDG, or Kaisler either, for that matter.’
Vedyensky stubbed out his cigarette. ‘No. Of course not. But it would probably not be very good for your career.’
‘Perhaps this is more important to me than my “career.”’
‘It is because we consider it so important that we are asking you to be patient.’
‘I am not a patient man.’
‘No, Dmitry Nikolayevich, we know that is not one of your virtues. Indeed, you are not really a very virtuous man, are you? You would be surprised to know what we know about you.’
Dmitry put his tea-cup down suddenly onto the saucer with a loud clatter and got to his feet. ‘What is all this shit?’ he demanded. ‘What more of this outdated rubbish have you got up your sleeve? Faked letters of denunciation? Compromising photographs?’
Vedyensky looked astonished. Dmitry tried to calm himself. ‘Porfiry Ivanovich, you cannot make these kind of threats to me anymore. You can’t have me sent back home if I don’t do as you ask. I do not have to co-operate with you in any way unless I wish it. You know perfectly well that you and your people are becoming a kind of dinosaur.’
Vedyensky now looked at Dmitry coldly. Dmitry felt his anger; it was equally returned. He nearly shook with rage, but he thought, I mustn’t make an enemy of him, these types can still be dangerous. He said, ‘Excuse me, I have work to do.’ Vedyensky rose and followed him, joining him again as he waited for the lift. Dmitry stared deliberately in the opposite direction.
‘I only mentioned this,’ said Vedyensky quietly, ‘To try to make you realise the importance of doing things our way.’
‘I can’t imagine what you are talking about.’
‘Oh, I think you can.’
‘Then tell me.’ The lift had opened; there were three people in it. They stepped inside. Dmitry continued, his voice raised in anger, ‘Tell me in front of all these people. I am not ashamed of anything.’ Nonetheless he felt his cheeks burn red, betraying him. Vedyensky flinched; the others looked away in embarrassment. When they got out Vedyensky suddenly said, ‘Come here with me.’
He led Dmitry into a room to the right of the bank of lifts; it was a room for quiet and meditation. In the centre stood a large stone sculpture, shaped like a ring doughnut. Vedyensky ran his hand thoughtfully along its edge.
‘Have you ever been in here before?’
Dmitry looked pointedly at a small notice on the wall requesting silence. ‘You are not supposed to talk in here.’
‘No, I know that. That is why I don’t suppose anyone would have it bugged.’
Dmitry sat down abruptly on a raised platform at the end of the room and sank his face in his hands.
‘You should be more careful about your behaviour, Dmitry Nikolayevich. Things may be more open these days, but you still have to be aware of your position. People are beginning to say things about you.’
‘You don’t have to threaten me,’ he said. ‘It will have the opposite effect to what you intend. It’s true that things are different now; I would have thought you would have changed your methods.’
‘I was threatening you with nothing; you have quite misunderstood me,’ said Vedyensky; he seemed suddenly to have changed his whole approach. ‘You are very highly thought of here; you are a credit to our country, a fine example of what our educational system and scientific training can achieve. Everyone says you are outstanding.’
Dmitry waved his hand dismissively. ‘Please spare me all this. What have you brought me here to tell me?’
‘Let us set all this other business aside. The fact is, you need our help. As you know the electronic sweep of your apartment showed, as you suspected, that your phone was tapped, via a transmitter in the junction box in the street. We’ll be watching now to see when someone comes to replace the batteries, and make sure nobody gets access again.’
‘Thanks.’
‘We don’t know how they got in – but this isn’t too difficult. There isn’t anyone else who has a key to your apartment is there? Your girlfriend?’
‘No.’
‘We also checked your office. That is more difficult, with a PABX system, but your line was also tapped – quite a complex matter because they had to use a repeater to get the signal out of the International Centre. They used a device in the base of the instrument itself. This we have also left in place. Just assume that everything you say is being recorded, heh?’
Vedyensky paused for a moment, as if to let this sink in, then carried on. ‘Then the surveillance team… they are using three men, in eight-hour shifts. There are three cars, one ahead, one behind, one floating, he stays completely out of sight till he’s needed when they want to change positions. That’s all quite standard. They are using a private intelligence agency. If they were working for a secret service for a Western government, they’d be using more people; perhaps six men or more, they can afford it. They would probably be more discreet. But whoever that is would need a lot of money, because this kind of thing doesn’t come cheap.’
‘Can’t you find out who is doing this?’
‘Well, of course – and who is actually following you – but you see that won’t get us very far, Dmitry Nikolayevich. These private intelligence agencies, they never know who their clients are. It’s all done through dead-letter boxes, that kind of thing. We have to work that out in other ways. Now you had better let the whole thing drop. This is why I tell you not to talk to anyone. This journalist friend of yours, in particular. You see, they know you are linked to him. He’s probably actually in the same situation as you.’
Dmitry was silent, thinking it all through.
‘Boris Alexeyevich Kulagin will accompany you to your apartment tonight. You don’t know him, his cover is a translator at the UN. I think you’ll find him easy enough to get on with. You should be able to sleep a little more easily. Please let me know if there are any more developments immediately, won’t you?’
‘Of course.’
‘In the meantime, try to take things a little more calmly. If you don’t mind my saying so, you look dreadful, Dmitry Nikolayevich. You don’t want your colleagues thinking you’re about to have a breakdown.’
>
Boris Alexeyevich Kulagin moved into Dmitry’s apartment that night. He came with a small suitcase and moved into the spare room. He seemed to be a man of few interests; he spent most of his time in the living room watching television while Dmitry sought refuge in the bedroom. Katie rang on Sunday and asked if she could see him and he said he had a Russian friend staying and he would try to meet her next week.
The only place he had any sense of safety was in his office. On Monday he told Kulagin he would be working late. He sat in his office in the semi-darkness. When he worked late it was his habit to turn off the main lights and work by his desk-lamp; the fluorescent lighting always gave him a headache. It was nine o’clock. Suddenly he desperately wanted to see Katie; to hell with it all, he thought. He reached his hand out for the phone and then, slowly, reluctantly, let it fall again. He stood up and went to the window. The lights of Vienna shone in the darkness; the moon was almost full, lighting the underside of the clouds above it. Its light was so bright that it drowned out the stars.
He looked at his watch. Boris would be coming shortly; he couldn’t stand it. He felt a desperate need to be alone; he couldn’t face the thought of Boris Alexeyevich’s heavy, silent presence in the flat, or the effort of trying to make conversation with him, nor the constant presence of his unseen watchers. On impulse he stood up, left the office and went down to his car. He drove in the wrong direction for his apartment and turned right across the bridge, taking the road heading north, from the roundabout where the signposts pointed to the destinations of Budapest and Prague. He drove faster and faster, aware all the time of the headlights behind him; that would be the car following him, a discreet distance back. At the turn-off to Klosterneuburg he did not indicate, but suddenly cut across the lanes and pulled onto the slip-road at the last minute; the car behind him went on past, but he knew they would radio to the one behind to take the turning. The road wound up the hillside; he slowed down now and drove more carefully.
The Rocket Man Page 14