The Margin of Evil!

by Simon Boxall

  Gerhardt answered, 'Maybe you were right; maybe we are all guilty of tarring him with the wrong brush!'

  'As you have said to us on many an occasion, where is our evidence,' the head of the 'Red Army' said. He carried on. ' My personal opinion is the man is a villain. Smart villains don't get caught; or shall we say, they are difficult to catch. He'll get caught, he's not that clever! We'll just go along with him for the time being!'

  Adding, 'It is my belief that Sverdlov was onto something. I just can't prove it; I just don't have the evidence to give you. In fact I know for a fact that the ''Good' Comrade' was onto something, because, and I have thought about this a lot; the more I think about his untimely and almost mysterious death. The more I think about it, it couldn't have happened at a better time; but our mutual friend was always one step ahead!'

  'Conjecture and coincidence mixed with a little obsession on your parts I think, that's all it is. All I ask of you is bring me the evidence and then Felix can deal with him! If you can't do that comrade, just let it go! Goodnight gentlemen!'

  Chapter Thirty Six

  So down river it was. The captain's ploy seemed to have paid off. Nobody seemed to pay any interest in a tug boat flying the Greek flag. Until that is they were at least one hundred miles from Moscow and heading for the Oka river.

  Even so, conditions on the tug boat were decidedly cramped. The tug had a crew of four, which included Adrastos Constantinou the Greek captain, the tugs mate George Popodopolous, one deck hand and a Chief Engineer. They seemed to get on well, even Royston behaved himself.

  Georgii sat down on the third day and decided to ask this Adrastos Constantinou a few nagging questions. The first question was what on earth was a Greek tugboat doing on a river which basically flowed into the wrong sea, The Caspian Sea. Georgii thought he would get this one off his chest first.

  'Comrade Radetzky, it's a very long story. If you have the time, I'll tell it,' the captain said. Georgii nodded and Constantinou carried on. 'Like most people I got caught up in the Great War. In nineteen fourteen I was working as a mate on a barge that worked the Danube River. July of that year found me in Vienna in Austria. I was paid off and living on the streets. My only friend there was an artist named Adolf Hiedler[28], but I found out that he had moved to Munich. So, with war in the air, and my command of the German language was reasonable, I joined the Austro Hungarian army. When I think back on it, it was possibly not the best move that I've ever made, but needs must ... Were you in the war Georgii?'

  'I was,' but whilst the captain had rambled on about his Vienna days; Georgii had resolved, that when the time came, he would tell the captain a selected version of his war service.

  'When I say that joining the Austro-Hungarian army was not the smartest move, I'm referring to my Orthodox faith. Most soldiers in that army were Catholic and it became obvious that I was not going to be doing any fighting in Serbia! In fact they sent me to the Russian front. So I spent four years ducking and diving. Got taken prisoner on a couple of occasions, and it was as a captive prisoner of war, that I finished the war in nineteen seventeen. You see Comrade Radetzky I was being held in Siberia with the rest of the Czech legion, the Provisional Government had gone and with it went law and order. They were interesting times, Georgii, interesting times indeed!'

  'Why didn't you up sticks and go back to Greece,' Georgii said.

  'I could have, but it was this Orthodox thing hanging over my head that worried me. You see, having fought on the wrong side, I was not altogether sure how my return home to Piraeus would be accepted. Maybe I was better off here; certainly until the dust settled,' the captain said.

  'My experience of war is that, after four years, people are only too glad to see you, they tend to bury the hatchet!'

  'Yes, but I didn't want them to bury it in my head,' Constantinou said.

  Anyway, please carry on,' Georgii was keen to hear the end of this man's story. Adding, ‘so how did you end up cruising on the river; commanding a tug flying the Greek flag?'

  'Well I'll tell you! In the turmoil of nineteen eighteen we were promised repatriation. We were going to be taken to Vladivostok[29]. But in the end we roamed up and down the Siberian railway ...'

  Better humour him Georgii thought, but he had the distinct feeling that this man was making it up. He definitely smelled a rat. He was going to find out who this Adrastos Constantinou was.

  '... It was after the third trip and finding ourselves, that is George, myself and the other two back in Penza, that we found this tug and started working the rivers Volga, Oka and Moskva.'

  'But what do you do? Surely there is nothing for you to do? The economy has collapsed,' Georgii said.

  'You'd be very surprised. The 'Bolshevik' economy may have collapsed! But it is not the only one,' the captain said.

  Fair-point Georgii thought. In that light, he must have been making a fortune. It was a known fact that there were no warships, of any kind, working these rivers. Those that had, had gone off to fight for Kolchak at the beginning of the Civil War.

  'So who do you work for,' Georgii asked.

  'Those who pay, Red or White, I'm not proud! Sometimes both at the same time,' the skipper said and on he went, 'as the 'Limey's' say, 'He who pays the Piper, plays the tune!' At this, Constantinou laughed, seemingly impressed by the power of his wit.

  'That brings me round to, how much money do you want from us,' Georgii said.

  'Nothing! Not everything we do is solely conducted for profit! Mr Radetzky, this river is as long as it's wide. There are many different paymasters on its shores. Look at it this way, your presence is payment enough. Don't worry, we are not in the business of shopping you right now, but we are in the business of trading information. As I've said along these shores and deep inside the forest there are many, I suspect, that would be only too happy to pay for information on your precise whereabouts!' The captain paused to collect his thoughts. Then carried on, 'Fact is; that O'Reilly has done us one or two favours, as far as I am concerned he is in credit with us, in the past. If he and his friends want to leave Moscow quietly that is none of our business. Radetzky you don't have to worry about me; I will tell you who you do have to worry about, and that is the 'Dwarfish' Comrade that has been asking questions, up and down the Moskva about a man who easily fits your description. We also know who he is in the pay of. He is in the pay of a very powerful man, Mister Georgii Radetzky!'

  'Yes, yes, yes, I know he's in the pay of the 'District 'Kevshor',' Chief Joseph Stalin,' Georgii said.

  'Believe you me; not a man to be trifled with. He is dangerous Mr Radetzky! Dangerous!'

  'So would it not be in your interests to hand us over to him?'

  'You're absolutely right it would be, that's if our activities were solely conducted for personal gain. But if you had been listening to me you would have heard me say, or imply, that my friends and I work for, and yet sometimes we do, no political masters! In the short time we have been doing this, we've seen many horrific things take place along these shores. Sometimes you take them in, other times you ignore what is going on, and hope that the Greek flag is enough to buy you time! Sometimes, and this is one such occasion, you just want to help a friend out. Your friend, my friend, Royston O'Reilly, and ask no questions. Remember Georgii Radetzky information around here is bought and sold at a premium; if it's good, you can sell it at any time!'

  Georgii Radetzky's feelings had gone from one of suspicion to trust. He knew, only too well what Constantinou was hinting at, but the Greek was buying them time, he was giving them a window of opportunity in which to escape. Georgii was grateful, at least, to him for that much.

  'I speak for us all, in that I do appreciate everything that you are doing,' he said.

  'I wish I could do more, but I can only do so much. I cannot take you to freedom. Simply because these rivers flow east, and I know, from what O'Reilly's told me, you want to go west. Look,' the skipper got out a tatty map of Russia. 'Here ... this is what I propos
e to do. Out of the options available, I think it is best that we steam up to here.' The Greek pointed to a town on the map called Tver. 'If we take our time we can sail down the Moskva, into the Okah, and then up the Volga to Tver. There you have several choices. I have connections there, I can put you in touch with people that might be able to get you to St Petersburg, and from there to Finland and freedom. What do you think,' the captain said.

  'What about down to here?' Georgii pointed his finger at Tsaritsyn.

  'No good, my friend; recently there has been a lot of fighting in that area. The place is crawling with 'Reds'; you and your friends would stick out like sore thumbs. No, no, it's here,' Constantinou pointed back towards Tver. Even if you don't, and you don't take my advice and go on to St Petersburg, you can cut through the forest here and travel through to Northern Ukraine and travel on from there to Poland. If what they say is true, and I have no reason to doubt it, that there is going to be war with Poland. You can hide amongst the 'Greens' in the forest.'

  Tell me about these 'Greens',' Georgii said.

  'Well ... I've had a few dealings with them. Georgii, they are just ordinary people whom have gone to live in the forest. They are neither Bolshevik nor Tsarist. They just want to live their lives free from bother. Ordinary people, who do not care one iota about 'Dialectical Materialism', they just want to sell their produce down at the market. When they couldn't do that they went to live in the forest; but they are not stupid 'My Friend', they know that they hold the balance of power. Whichever way this Civil War may go, and whoever wins it; they know that the winners will have to do some deal with them. Only then will they come out of the forest!'

  Georgii had not thought of it like that before. The Greek was a hundred percent right. These people if he could make contact with them, and they proved not to be hostile towards him and his friends, when the time came, might prove themselves to be good friends and allies.

  Making a split second decision Georgii said, 'You've convinced me! So it`s too Tver we shall make for!'

  'I think you have made the right decision. However there is one more thing that I would like to say. This journey is going to be a dangerous one. You Moscow people are used to living in the big metropolitan city; out here life is different, the pace is much slower. Even in civil war, people are trying to get on with their lives. The peasantry are resentful at the way they have been treated. They do not like the fact that their 'Little Father' has been executed by the 'Bolshies', and that despite all their promises, the 'Reds' only want to take their grain and not pay for it! The Whites they feel are just as bad, they accuse them of collaborating with the 'Reds', when they have not. They are tired of the summary executions. Radetzky what I say to you is that these simple people are wary of strangers. You and your party are going to have to wear different clothes; you are going to have to blend into the countryside. If you don't you will never get out of Russia alive! There is a lot of risk, I make no guarantees that I can get you to Tver. The areas we go through are lawless; we might all perish en route! If you don't like what I've said, there`s still time for you and your party to return to Moscow. It is at least two days walk from here, some coffee Georgii?'

  While Constantinou filled up the small focsle with coffee fumes, Georgii had time to think. The man definitely spoke sense. In his mind, everything so far that the skipper had said was sound.

  When he told the others they all agreed. Yulia had said that, whichever way you looked at it, it was going to be dangerous. But they were all agreed, even if it ended in failure, they had to try to get out of Russia. None of them gave it a second thought what they would do once they got out of Russia, but they all resolved to make the effort and try.

  They all laughed heartily when Royston O'Reilly said, 'That they would cross that river when they got to it!' It seemed to Georgii that Russia had too many rivers and they all had one thing in common. They all flowed in the wrong direction! First things first though; they all had to get some new clothes.

  Georgii stood on deck, for a moment he thought about the history of these long rivers. He thought about the ancient explorers who had headed off east until they got to the Pacific Ocean. Undaunted they crossed it and started to explore Alaska. He thought of the thousands of square miles of virgin forest, untouched by any human foot. He thought, and wondered what his writer friend was doing. His train of thought was broken by Constantinou shouting at him from the bridge.

  'Radetzky you and your friends better get down below. Shortly we will be putting in at a small riverside village. Until, we can procure you and your party some new clothes, you'd better all stay down below.

  One of the deckhands took some measurements, and then went ashore to get the clothes. Georgii and Yulia handed over some old Provisional Governments bank notes, Constantinou had assured them that the river side peasants loved laying their hands on banknotes. They didn't care where it came from; they stashed it with all their other monies. Be it Bolshevik, Provisional or Tsarist, they just like accumulating large amounts of cash.

  Once Georgii, Yulia and Royston and the kids tried on their new clothes, and had made all the necessary adjustments, Georgii and Yulia disappeared into the focsle under the pretext of intimate quality social time.

  Everybody, crew and kids, understood. In between ecstatic groans, they set about making the necessary alterations to the new fur coats. At a later date the old clothes could be incinerated inside the tugs boiler. This time Georgii had decided, just in case the party split up, he was to carry one file and Yulia was to carry the other; they both agreed that this made perfect sense. Once their work was done, they kissed each other long and hard; their embrace was so intense, that their lips turned pink with passion. Later when they re-emerged on to the deck, they received a standing ovation from passengers and crew alike.

  Out on deck, Georgii looked at O'Reilly, Yulia and the kids. They looked the part, in fact he thought they looked like a bunch of country bumpkins from a nineteenth century rural painting. The crewmen had done well; their fur coats hats and boots looked right. He was assured that the peasants were happy with the money and, 'The Salt' convinced him that, the peasants on shore felt that they had got the better part of the bargain. Smiling to himself, Georgii thought, if that's what they wanted to think, then that was fine by him.

  New clothes meant that they could blend into their new riverside surroundings. The last thing that he wanted to do was bring attention to himself and his friends. The captain suggested that, in order to help with their keep, Georgii and Royston would have to go out with the crewmen to cut down wood for the ships boiler. So they went into the forest to forage for boiler wood. All day, and most of the next one, the four of them cut down trees, sawing them up into logs, and then lugging them back to the tug.

  Constantinou stayed on board, Yulia cleaned up and cooked food in the filthy galley. Pyotr and Anna lounged around on deck, under the ever watchful eye of Captain Constantinou. Georgii could see that, after the ordeal of the previous week, the group was more or less at ease with itself.

  Winter was due any day now. Georgii asked the Greek, would it not make any difference to their travel arrangements when the snows came. Constantinou reckoned not. He explained that the smaller rivers froze first, but there would still be time on the bigger rivers before the big freeze. Georgii was not to worry; they would still make Tver in good time. The river would not freeze yet. The tug could lie up there until the spring thaw. He had some unfinished business with a widowed lady shopkeeper. They both laughed.

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  The young Nicolai Yezhov put down the receiver, his ears were still ringing. 'The Boss', in no uncertain terms had made it exactly clear what he was to do. He was to take a car and search the docks in the south eastern portion of the city. He was not to dare show his face to him, until he had discovered something on the whereabouts of Georgii Radetzky. So he went down to the motor pool and requisitioned a car and made off for the docks.

  The docks were
desolate. Derelict buildings, and ruined wharfs, this place bore all the signs of long term neglect. Nobody, except for some hoodlums and dossers, ever went down there and when they did they never stayed long. The cold winds coming in from the east always hit this place first. It had not always been this way. Once these docks had been the centre of a thriving river based economy. Barges were towed up river from as far as Astrakhan. Swarms of dockers would unload their cargoes so they could load up, or unload the many cargoes waiting to be loaded or unloaded. At times these berths had been worked around the clock. Now they were empty and barren, the river had silted up over the last few years and the traffic that still used the river stayed in the centre channel.

  Yezhov decided that, if he was going to find anything out, maybe he would try further on up river. So he got back in the car and made his way towards the centre of the city. They stopped to ask Red Army patrols they encountered, if anyone had seen anything. The answer was always no. One such group did go onto say that there was an old man who fished by the new Novospassky bridge. According to them he was to be found there most nights, he might have seen something.

  So they drove on up to the bridge. Yezhov and the driver walked along the bridge, calling out, until they got to the far side. They turned around until they were facing the Novospassky monastery. There were still a few lights left on in the building. They walked back towards the other side.

  'There he is,' the driver said. 'Look, he's over there!'

  The pair went over to where the old man was sitting. Yezhov thought, well maybe they had missed him when they had first reconnoitred the place.

  'Old man, how long have you been here,' the dwarf asked.

  The old man looked up at him and said,' I have been here since eighteen sixty three.'

  'Yes, but how long have you been sitting here tonight?' Yezhov said. The functionary now had an opportunity to take a good look at the man. The old man was sitting on an antiquated three legged stool. He was holding a fishing rod. As he looked on, he realised there was no line attached to the rod. Realising that this was a delicate situation Nikolai Yezhov said. 'Have you seen any boats out on the river?'