They waited, one man standing over Karpo, the other pacing the room and occasionally glancing at Karpo or the door. The pacing man's face was square, solid, cold but beyond it Karpo, who never looked directly at him, could see the fringes of anxiety. The man wanted to get rid of his responsibility and be free of this cell of a reception room.
Five minutes, then ten passed with none of the three speaking. And then the inner door opened and a thin, balding bespectacled man of about forty, wearing a brown suit that looked almost like a uniform, stepped out and fixed Karpo with dark blue eyes. Karpo looked up and met his eyes. Karpo's eyes showed nothing.
"Out, both of you, now," the man said.
Karpo's escorts moved to the door. They did their best to give the impression that they were in no hurry to leave, an impression that they failed to deliver.
When the two men were gone, the man motioned to Karpo to follow him. Emil Karpo rose and entered the inner office which continued the monastic motif of the outer office. There was an old, dark wooden desk containing nothing but a telephone, no carpeting on the clean but worn wooden floor and four wooden chairs, one behind the desk, three facing and opposite it. There was one white-curtained window and on the wall across from the desk, a painting of Lenin signing a document. Karpo felt quite comfortable in the room for it was not unlike the one in which he lived.
"Emil Karpo," the man said. "You may sit."
"If you wish," Karpo said watching the other man adjust his glasses and move around to his chair behind the desk. They stood looking at each other, both unblinking.
"I wish," the man said, and Karpo sat in one of the wooden chairs. The man did not sit.
"I am Major Zhenya," the man said.
Karpo nodded.
Zhenya opened the drawer in the desk without looking down and removed a thick file.
"This is your file, Inspector Karpo," he said. "It is a very interesting file. There are things in it which you might find surprising, not surprising in their existence, but surprising because we know them. Would you like some examples?"
"My wishes are clearly of no consequence," Karpo answered, and Zhenya studied him for a sign of sarcasm but he could detect none for the simple reason that there was no sarcasm. Karpo had no use for sarcasm or imagination.
"You are a dedicated investigator," Zhenya said without looking at the report, "a good Party member. Recently, with your acquiescence, you were transferred from the Procurator's Office to the Office of Special Services of Colonel Snitkonoy in the MVD to work under Inspector Porfiry Petrovich Rostnikov who has also recently been transferred, a definite demotion for both of you."
He paused for response and Karpo met his eyes.
"I believed that my association with Inspector Rostnikov who was out of favor would hamper my continued services to the Procurator General," he said. "Therefore, when offered the opportunity to continue to serve under Inspector Rostnikov, even in a reduced capacity, I accepted."
"I see," said Zhenya glancing down at the folder. "Are you a bit curious about why you are here?"
"No," said Karpo.
Major Zhenya removed his glasses, cocked his head and looked at Karpo with disbelief but Karpo's dead eyes met his without flinching.
"Let us then try a few of those surprises," said Zhenya. "Twice a month, on a Wednesday, you have an assignation with a telephone operator and part-time prostitute named Mathilde Verson. Your next such assignation will be this coming week."
"Prostitution has been eliminated from the Soviet Union," said Karpo.
"You deny this assignation?" asked Zhenya.
"I quote official statements of the Office of the Premier," said Karpo. "That I meet this woman is true. That our meeting is intimate is also true. That it represents a weakness I also confirm. I find that I am not completely able to deny my animalism and that I can function, do the work of the State to which I have been assigned, with greater efficiency if I allow myself this indulgence rather than fight against it."
"You recently had an operation on your left arm," Zhenya went on, hiding the fact that he was annoyed by the failure of his first surprise. "An operation performed by a Jewish physician who has been excluded from the Soviet State medical service, a physician who happens to be related to the wife of the same Inspector Rostnikov."
"Such an operation did take place," Karpo agreed. "The arm was injured three times in the performance of my duty, once in pursuit of a thief, the other in an explosion which caused the death of a terrorist in Red Square and the third time on a hotel roof while subduing a sniper."
"I'm well aware of the circumstances," Zhenya said with a small smile to hide his frustration.
"I was hospitalized in a State hospital and informed that I would never be able to use my left arm and hand and that I might have to consider having it removed to prevent possible atrophy and infection," Karpo went on. "The Jewish doctor whom you mention indicated that the arm could not only be saved but could function. With great reluctance because of my faith in the State medical service I allowed the man to operate on my hand and arm and to suggest a regimen of exercise and therapy. It was my belief that the law allowed me this option. I checked legal passages on medical treatment and Article 42 of the Constitution of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics."
"And," Zhenya said, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice, "I am sure you could quote those legal passages and the Constitution."
"The Constitution, yes," agreed Karpo giving no indication that he recognized the sarcasm, "but not all the legal passages though I did take notes on them and have them in my room, at home."
"We've checked the room where you live, Emil Karpo," Zhenya said walking around the desk, folding his arms and sitting back against it to look directly down at Karpo. "We've seen your cell, looked at the notebooks on all your cases. You live a rather ascetic life, Investigator Karpo, with, of course, the exception of your animal sojourns with Mathilde Verson."
"I'll accept that as a compliment from a senior officer, Major," Karpo said.
"Are you trying to provoke me, Karpo?" Zhenya said, standing.
"Not at all, Major," Karpo said evenly.
"You have no secrets, Karpo, no secrets from us," he said.
"I have no secrets to keep from you," Karpo responded.
"Then why the thin wire on your door, the feather which falls if someone enters your door?"
"I've made enemies among certain criminals in Moscow," said Karpo. "As you know from looking at my notebooks, I continue to seek criminals on whom the files at Petrovka have been temporarily closed. It is possible that some of them might wish to stop me. I think it best if I know when and if they have discovered my pursuit and might be waiting for me or might have placed an explosive device within my home."
"When you go home you will find your wire and your feather exactly where they were," said Zhenya softly, adjusting his glasses. "If we wish to enter your room, we will do so and you will never know."
"Am I to gather from this, Major, that you wish something from me?" said Karpo.
Major Zhenya did not like this situation. It had not gone as he had planned. Major Zhenya had taken over his office only a few months ago after the death of his superior, Colonel Drozhkin. Major Zhenya wanted to make a quick name for himself. The KGB was at the height of its power. KGB chief Viktor M. Chebrikov had been elevated to full membership and was the first member to announce his support for Mikhail Gorbachev's policy of change. In return, the KGB was being given even more responsibility for surveillance on the performance of economic and agricultural enterprises. New KGB chiefs, younger men, had been appointed in five of the fifteen Republics of the Soviet Union. The situation could change quickly as it had in the past but Major Zhenya wished to take advantage of the moment. He wanted to be Colonel Zhenya and to remain permanently in charge of an important section of internal criminal investigation of which he was now only acting director. There were several bits of unfinished business that he might put in order and thereby impress his superiors. He was attempting to address one of them at the moment.