The sergeant of engineers rubbed his stubbled face and thought for a moment. The stubble that covered his face wasn’t so very different from his eyebrows or the stubble that covered his head. His head looked like a rock covered with dry moss. His voice was no less rugged and laconic and the accent Low Saxon probably – as if he was about to tell a Little Ernie joke. Around his neck was a small crucifix on a chain, which we soon discovered was the most important part of his disposal kit.
‘What else? Oh yes.’ From a haversack that was slung over his shoulder he handed us each a dental mirror, a penknife, a piece of green chalk and a small flashlight. ‘Your protective equipment. These three things will help to keep you alive, gentlemen. Right then. Let’s get started.’
Von Gersdorff consulted his notebook. ‘According to our records, we believe the case files to be on the shelves, while the NKVD’s own personnel files are probably in those cabinets marked with the people’s commissariat’s symbol, which is a hammer and sickle on top of a sword and a red banner featuring the Cyrillic symbols HKBД. None of the drawers appear to be alphabetically marked – although there is a little slot – so possibly the marker cards were removed. Fortunately Krivyenko starts with the Cyrillic letter K, which is an easy one to spot for someone like you who doesn’t read Russian. Unfortunately there are thirty-three letters in the Cyrillic alphabet. Here, I’ve written out an alphabet for you, so you’ll have a better idea of what you’re looking at. I’ll work down the cabinets on the left side of the room and you, Gunther – you take the right-hand side.’
‘And I’ll take a look at what’s on the shelves,’ said Sergeant Schlächter. ‘If the drawer is safe put a green cross on it. And don’t for Christ’s sake slam them shut when you’ve finished.’
I went to the first filing cabinet and scrutinized it for a long minute before turning my attention to the bottom drawer.
‘Pay attention to the bottom of the drawer as well as to the top,’ said Schlächter. ‘Look out for a wire or a piece of cord. If the drawer opens safely and it happens to be the drawer you’re looking for, don’t pull a file out without observing the same precautions that apply to everything else here.’
Kneeling down, I drew the heavy wooden drawer out only two or three centimetres and shone my flashlight carefully into the space I had made. Observing nothing suspicious I gently pulled the drawer out a bit more until I was sure there were no wires or hidden bombs and then looked inside; the files were all headed with the letter K. Briefly I paused and began to examine the outside of the drawer immediately above; I knew there was nothing on the underside, so once again I drew it out a couple of centimetres and scrutinized the narrow gap; this drawer was also harmless and contained files beginning with the letter K, so I stood up and began to look at the last drawer in the cabinet; and when at last I was satisfied that it too was safe – like the two others before, it contained K files – I put a cross on all three drawers with my chalk and let out a long breath as I stood back. I glanced at my wristwatch and clasped my hands together for a moment in order to stop them from shaking. Checking one filing cabinet and pronouncing it clear of hidden bombs had taken me ten minutes.
I glanced around. Schlächter was between two high sets of metal shelves that were filled with papers and box files; Von Gersdorff was checking the underside of a drawer with his dental mirror.
‘At this rate it will take us all day,’ I said.
‘You’re doing fine,’ said the sergeant. ‘Clearing a room like this might take as long as a week.’
‘There’s a thought,’ murmured Von Gersdorff. He placed a green cross on the drawer in front of him and moved on to the next cabinet a metre or so behind me.
This went on – the three of us working at snail’s pace – for another fifteen or twenty minutes, and it was Von Gersdorff who found the first device.
‘Hello,’ he said, calmly. ‘I think I’ve found something, sergeant.’
‘Hold on. I’ll come and take a look. Herr Gunther? Stop working, sir, and go to the door. I’d rather you didn’t find another device while I’m assisting the colonel.’
‘Besides,’ added Von Gersdorff, ‘there’s no point in three of us getting it if the file is active, so to speak.’
This was good advice and, as instructed, I went back to the door. I lit a cigarette and waited.
Sergeant Schlächter came and stood by Von Gersdorff and took a long hard look at the drawer the colonel was still holding partly open, but not before he had kissed the little gold crucifix on the chain around his neck and placed it in his mouth.
‘Oh, yes,’ he said with the crucifix between his teeth. ‘There’s a paper clip hooked over the lip of the drawer. It’s attached to a length of wire. There’s slack on the wire so I think we can be sure it’s not a tension device but a bomb that’s designed to go off when a firing pin is pulled out. If you don’t mind, sir, perhaps you could gently pull the drawer back another few centimetres until I tell you to stop.’
‘Very well,’ said the colonel.
‘Stop,’ said the sergeant. ‘Now, keep it steady, sir.’
Schlächter pushed his hands through the narrow space and into the drawer.
‘Plastic explosive,’ he said. ‘About half a kilo, I think. More than enough to kill us both. An electric dry-cell battery and two metal contacts. It’s a simple device, but no less deadly for that. You keep pulling the drawer, you pull one plate toward the other, you make contact, the battery sends a signal to the detonator, and kaboom. Battery might well be dead after all this time, but there’s no point in risking it. If you could hand me a small chunk of modelling clay, sir.’
Von Gersdorff searched in the sergeant’s haversack and took out a chunk of clay.
‘If you wouldn’t mind just handing that to me inside the drawer, sir.’
The colonel pushed his hand into the drawer alongside Schlächter’s and then withdrew it gently.
‘I’ll put some clay around the metal contacts, to prevent a circuit from being made,’ said the sergeant. ‘And then we can pull out the detonator.’
A long minute later, Schlächter was showing us the plastic explosive and the detonator it had contained. About the size of a tennis ball, the explosive was green and looked just like the same Plastilin modelling clay Schlächter had used to isolate the metal contact strips. He tore the wires off the detonator and then tested the 1½-volt AFA battery with a couple of wires of his own that were attached to a small bicycle lamp. The bulb lit up brightly.
‘German battery.’ He grinned. ‘That’s why it still works, I suppose.’
‘I’m glad that amuses you,’ remarked Von Gersdorff. ‘I don’t think I like the idea of being blown up by our own equipment.’
‘Happens all the time. Ivan bombers are nothing if not resourceful.’ Schlächter sniffed the explosive. ‘Almonds,’ he added. ‘This stuff is ours too. Nobel 808. Bit too much, in my opinion. Half as much would achieve the same result. Still, waste not want not.’ His grin widened. ‘I’ll probably use this when it’s my turn to set some traps for the Ivans.’
‘Well, that’s certainly a comfort,’ I said.
‘They fuck with us,’ said Schlächter. ‘We fuck with them.’
The afternoon passed safely, with three more hidden bombs discovered and neutralized, before we found what we were looking for: the People’s Commissariat for Internal Affairs personnel files that started with the Cyrillic letter K.
‘I’ve found them,’ I said. ‘The K files.’
Von Gersdorff and the sergeant appeared behind me. Minutes later he had identified the file we were looking for.
‘Mikhail Spiridonovich Krivyenko,’ said Von Gersdorff. ‘Looks like your idea paid off, Gunther.’