“Let’s take them. It will comfort my uncle to be able to read a paper the next time I visit him.”
“Are you crazy? We’d need a wheelbarrow to carry that mountain. If you want, take a few and let’s get out of here.”
“We can do it. We’ll put them on top of the sheet and drag them to the car.”
Jack saw Elizabeth’s face and knew she wouldn’t give in. The last thing they needed was to have an argument in the house. He swore and pointed the light at the stack of newspapers again. There weren’t as many as he’d thought. “All right. We’ll take them.”
Between the two of them, they made a bundle with the sheet and dragged it to the door. Jack opened it carefully. There was nobody outside. On his signal, they ran, crouching, pulling the bundle to the car. It started on the second attempt, and they drove home.
Jack rose early to take the tram that went up to the office that the OGPU had set up at the entrance to the kremlin where he had been informed Walter was now stationed. He found his friend in a temporary hut, wearing a brown uniform and buried under a pile of reports. He guessed Walter would be glad to take a break, but when Jack greeted him, his friend, far from seeming pleased, took off his spectacles and jumped up as if he’d seen the devil in the flesh. Without giving him time to speak, he grabbed Jack’s arm and dragged him out of the hut, much to the surprise of the Soviet clerk who shared his desk.
“What possessed you to come here without warning?” he spat out when they were outside in a courtyard.
“Sorry. I didn’t know I had to request an audience with a friend!”
Walter looked from side to side. “Don’t get me wrong, Jack, but this isn’t the Avtozavod. I’m sorry it’s me who has to tell you this, but you’re not exactly popular right now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your relationship with Hewitt. The OGPU think you might be connected to his counterrevolutionary activities.”
“Well, fortunately, you’re not like those OGPU guys, right?” Jack gave him a smile.
Walter maintained a circumspect expression. “Why are you here? I have a lot of work to do.”
“It’s about Hewitt. I went to visit him yesterday with his niece, and he asked us to get this letter to the new American ambassador.”
“Put that away!” said Walter when he saw an officer approaching. “Come with me.”
Walter led him through an endless dingy green corridor furnished with only a pair of wooden benches. He opened a rickety door and ushered Jack into an office. Once inside the little room, he adjusted his glasses and asked Jack for the letter.
“It doesn’t say anything in particular,” said Jack, trying to keep Walter on his side. “He just maintains his innocence and asks for a lawyer to be sent to represent him at his trial.”
“Nothing in particular? Here he labels his accusers as schemers! And you want me to send this? You must be out of your mind!”
“That’s precisely why I’ve brought it to you. If you think it’s unwise, imagine what the OGPU would do with the letter.”
“So why don’t you send it?”
“You said it yourself. I’m not well regarded at the moment.” He took it for granted that Walter would understand the dangers of his position.
“And all you can think of is to pass the risk on to me.”
“No, Walter. I’m just asking you to help make sure a fellow American gets a fair trial.”
“I don’t understand your obsession with that man. Getting involved will only bring you problems, you can be sure of that.”
“Look, if you don’t want to do it for Hewitt, do it for Elizabeth. His niece is innocent in all of this.”
“Oh really? Judging by her jewelry, I’d say she’s profited very nicely indeed from everything her uncle has stolen.”
“You should try to be more impartial. He hasn’t been tried yet, and you’re already sentencing him.”
Walter exhaled dramatically. He read the message again and looked at Jack, who held his gaze. Finally, Walter pocketed the letter. “I can’t promise anything. In the Soviet postal service, any suspicious letters are vetted. As soon as they see that it’s addressed to the embassy, they’ll intercept it, and if I send it to someone else to send on to the embassy, they’ll open it as soon as it’s delivered.” He paused to think. “The only option would be to send it to Dmitri, my contact in Moscow, and ask him as a special favor to hand it personally to an American official coming out of the embassy.”
“Thank you, Walter. I’m—”
“Don’t thank me. But please, don’t ask me for any more favors.” Without giving him a chance to reply, he rushed off, leaving Jack standing alone in the little room.
33
The news of Hewitt’s arrest spread like wildfire through the American village, causing fear that led to a slump in sales at the store. Jack couldn’t have cared less about the company accounts. His only concern was to get his hands on the passports that Ivan Zarko had promised him, and though he’d paid in advance, there was a delay. According to Zarko, the OGPU had stepped up surveillance, and his supplier said he thought he was being watched. With no option but to wait, Jack passed the days with the same sense of unease that he’d felt in the ispravdom. He spent his time behind the counter in the store, studying the Soviet Penal Code that Sue had given him, cleaning and recleaning the ever-emptier shelves, and trying to find a way to prevent Natasha from turning up at his house without warning and discovering Wilbur Hewitt’s niece sleeping under his roof.
“Why don’t you want me to come? You used to invite me to your house every other minute, and now when I suggest it, you always say no,” Natasha said after hearing yet another one of his excuses.
Jack took a deep breath. Until then he’d managed to avoid making her suspicious, saying that work was being done there and the house was a mess, but Natasha insisted that it didn’t matter how it looked.
“It’s chaos there at the moment. What’s wrong with wanting you to be comfortable?” answered Jack.
“And this hovel’s comfortable?” She waved her hand at the storeroom where Jack had set up the mattress they were lying on.
Jack raised his eyebrows and got up to poke the fire that was beginning to die down. It was true that the American store was anything but romantic. He tried to distract her with a kiss, but she moved her lips away.
“No, Jack. Last week you promised that we could go to your house this week, and . . .” She fell silent.
“And . . . ?”
Natasha burst into tears. Jack flushed red. It was the first time he’d seen her cry. He tried to console her, but Natasha moved away from him.
“No! I’ve wanted to believe it wasn’t true, that it was just gossip, that I didn’t care, I don’t know . . .” A sob stifled her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Natasha,” Jack sputtered.