The visit of the British parliamentary party was planned to be a big one, not just the leader of the Opposition but the Shadow Foreign Secretary and the Shadow Trade Secretary and three other MPs who would form part of the Cabinet if they were successful in the next election. The defeat in the last had been extremely narrow and the forecast for the next gave them a more than strong chance, which was undoubtedly a factor in the Russian decision to greet and entertain them at such a high level, scheduling two State banquets and a Kremlin reception, with private talks agreed.
Despite his determination to get what he wanted, Brinkman went about his bid to be appointed official interpreter as properly as he had always conducted himself within the embassy, making the approach first to the Head of Chancery and actually using the meeting to rehearse his arguments, stressing that his official position as cultural attache made him ideally suited for the function and pointing out that his Russian was unquestionably equal to if not superior to the majority of other likely choices. Having started the right way Brinkman took the gamble and approached Sir Oliver Brace directly. The attitude of proper career diplomats to intelligence personnel in embassies varies and is frequently ambivalent: intelligence agents are a necessity, like daily bowel movements, but not usually things to be acknowledged. And certainly not to be allowed into any sort of situation involving ambassadors which might then or later cause problems. Brinkman was immediately aware of Brace’s face closing as he made the request, the older man’s experienced professionalism at once coming to the forefront. Brinkman had anticipated it, making frequent references to his father – of whose best wishes and gratitude at the friendship being shown in Moscow he assured the ambassador – and disclosing the man’s impending promotion to be Permanent Head of the Foreign Office. Brinkman knew Sir Oliver saw a concluding career for himself at the Foreign Office when the Moscow posting finished, a career his father would be in a position to sanction or not. He said he could understand any hesitation Brace might have – because it would have been ridiculous for him not to have acknowledged it – but insisted a personal as well as professional guarantee that nothing would arise which could cause any embarrassment, a guarantee the ambassador would know to be sincere from the man’s knowledge of the Brinkman family. Brace refused initially to commit himself, promising to consider it, and Brinkman endured the most uncertain week he had known since his arrival in Moscow, guessing the discussions would not just be confined to the ambassador and Head of Chancery but extend to London, as well. He wished the diplomatic cable channels were not separate from his own, another precaution against embarrassment. He actually considered making a direct approach to his father, towards the end of the week when he heard nothing, abandoning the idea because he realised the contact would have had to be by telephone, which was not secure – and therefore impossible – and would unquestionably cause the resentment he had so far managed to avoid, from everyone.
He got approval on the Monday.
Brinkman set about preparing himself with the care he devoted to everything. He had full biographies and information details on the MPs with whom he would be working pouched from London and requested – and got – a lot of additional material he considered lacking from the first shipment. He extended the preparation beyond learning about the personalities, finding out the purpose of the visit – creating a statesmen-like impression in Britain, in readiness for the next election – and the expected outcome, communiques of mutual trust and friendship and assurances of close working relationships in the future, another voter lure.
Although it wasn’t his responsibility Brinkman involved himself in every aspect of the tour, checking and rechecking their accommodation and travel arrangements and their sightseeing schedules. Because of his early days’ groundwork he was able to do so without upsetting anyone else in the embassy. In cases there was actually appreciation: a two-day visit to Leningrad was planned and there was underbooking in both hotels and transport there, so his intrusion was correctly seen to have avoided a mistake for which the embassy could have been criticised.
The importance of the visit for Brinkman began from the moment of arrival. It was Serada’s first public appearance since the announcement of his indisposition and Brinkman was not more than ten yards away from the man and closer even than that after the party landed and he moved forward to fulfil his supposed function.
Serada didn’t look ill. He was sallow, certainly, and as close as he was now Brinkman was aware of the man’s hand shaking but he thought the cause of both more external than illness. There were handshakes and traditional hugs and a short, ceremonial walk to inspect the waiting guard of honour. Serada’s welcoming speech was given in a halting, hesitant voice, the prepared notes appearing very necessary for the man. The response from the British Opposition leader, whose name was Birdwood, was robust by comparison, the man alert to where the British newsmen and television crews were penned, the speech verging on pomposity. Birdwood actually arrived with a working-class cap but he stopped short of wearing it, carrying it obviously in his hand instead.
The politicians had brought their wives and on the way into the capital, with Brinkman riding in the same car as Birdwood, it became obvious they saw his role as more than that of a simple translator. Brinkman didn’t mind combining the functions of baby-sitter, nursemaid and general factotum: there was nothing wrong with making himself indispensable to a group of men – and their women – who might within a couple of years emerge as his country’s leaders. Insurance was, after all, what one took out against the unknown.
Because he had immersed himself so fully in everything the arrival at the Metropole and the baggage collection and the room allocations went without a hitch. Brinkman established an immediate advantage from their reliance upon him, able to convince – occasionally almost bully – them into being ready at the times he stipulated at the places he stipulated.
The Kremlin reception the first night was more worthwhile than the airport arrival. Serada headed the Soviet party but only nominally. Brinkman was sure of it. Conscious of his incredible opportunity – but equally conscious how it could be misused – he tried to clear his mind of any preconceptions and was sure he obtained the necessary clarity. Serada had all the appearance of a cast-aside man. Once, on the actual receiving line, Chebrakin practically thrust aside the supposed leader and shortly after that intruded himself again to complete introductions that Serada should, according to protocol, have made. Brinkman was tight with excitement, absorbing everything. He concentrated upon Serada and searched again for any sign of definite illness and he concentrated upon Chebrakin – whom he knew from Blair positively to have disabilities – and studied the man’s appearance and behaviour and he concentrated upon the others in the government who had been assembled. He was particularly eager to locate and study the younger ones. Didenko was the easiest to find, because he was a full member of the Politburo and Brinkman recognised him instantly from the frequent photographs. Didenko was a burly man whose blood-pressured features were heightened by the complete whiteness of his hair. He moved about the gathering with the sort of confidence Chebrakin was showing, according little deference to Serada who at times seemed isolated and completely alone. There had been three newcomers in the most recent Central Committee elections and Brinkman strained about him, wanting to identify them. His supposed purpose helped, calling upon him to communicate the introductions between the two parties, which was how he got the first, Vladimir Isakov. Nervous on his first public outing at such an elevated level, judged Brinkman, a thin, bespectacled man in an ill-fitting suit and a collar that gaped. It was more than thirty minutes after the official greetings had finished and Brinkman was feeling the first stirrings of unease, before he saw another. Viktor Petrov appeared nervous, like Isakov, keeping himself on the periphery of everything, which was how he missed being named to the British group. He was a short, inconspicuous man anyway, better dressed than Isakov but not much, over-awed like the other man at his surroundings. Where was the third? Orlov, he remembered, from his complete preparation. Brinkman found the man almost at once, the identification easier because when the Central Committee elections had been announced there had existed more pictures of the man who had occupied a United Nations posting than of the others. Orlov was a marked contrast to the other two newcomers. He was tall and deeply tanned -Georgian, recalled Brinkman – and very dark haired, impeccably tailored compared to the others – even the Politburo – standing urbanely to one side, appearing to be examining everything around him with the sort of interest that Brinkman was showing. As the Englishman watched, Orlov turned and bent slightly to his left and Brinkman mentally ran the projector, trying to match the high-cheek-boned, full face to the photograph, irritated that it would not immediately come. Sevin! he remembered at last. A big man, stiffly upright despite his age, the cane more for ornamentation than practical use. One of the original Bolsheviks, recalled Brinkman, a youthful contemporary of the older Lenin and Trotsky and then Stalin and Krushchev. And a survivor of them all. There weren’t many such men left. And then Brinkman’s memory served him again and he looked with renewed interest at the old man and the young Russian in head-bent conversation. Blair named Sevin an important policymaker. And the important policymaker was huddled with a complete unknown who had just been brought into the inner circle of Soviet government. Blair had something else, too… We might see changes that will take us all by surprise… The encounter he was witnessing from the other side of the room was insufficient by itself, despite the straw-clutching way they had to operate. But it was worth careful note; very careful note indeed.