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a KGB operative and a really big bruiser ready for anything. I had heard that he was used regularly in these types of cases—that is, when decisiveness and brute force were called for. Lora’s room on Ananiev Lane was wired; that is, there was a very sensitive microphone hidden somewhere, whose wires led to the apartment next door, where a short-wave radio transmitter and receiver were set up.
Gribanov himself decided to meet with Lora. This meeting took place in a private room at the Metropole Restaurant. Besides Oleg Mikhailovich, Melkumov, Kunavin, and Misha—and Lora, of course—were present. All of the tiniest details were planned. Kunavin told me about it later. Gribanov stated again that if everything went well, Lora would receive a room in Moscow. A room, not an apartment. The KGB men had a champagne toast. After Gribanov and Melkumov left, Lora remained in the company of Ku-navin and Misha, in order to get to know Misha better—after all, he was her husband, the very enthusiastic geologist. This was the role he had to play at the crucial moment. And to help him, he had a friend, Kunavin—also a dedicated geologist. Melkumov met with me; we went over my part in the script.
And, finally, the fateful day arrived for Maurice De Jean.
I invited him out for a picnic again. He agreed when he found out that Lora and Alla would be there. (Alla was my “love interest”—that’s how I presented her, in order to make everything clear.) We decided to have this picnic out in the open, somewhere in a forest clearing. At Lora’s request, we drove in the direction of the Lenin Hills. Afterwards I found out that this was all planned at the dinner at the Metropole Restaurant. De Jean rode in the car driven not by Boris this time, but by a different chauffeur, and took some folding metal furniture—a table and chairs—a huge umbrella for protection from the sun, and a lot of snacks and alcoholic beverages. And in our car we were carrying those items prepared by Kunavin’s agents.
It was like this: Alla and I went ahead in my Volga, and Maurice and Lora followed in the Chevrolet. Twenty kilometers outside of Moscow, the Chevrolet unexpectedly pulled ahead of us, and soon turned off the road into a clearing, and proceeded to go deeper into the forest. I realized that Lora knew this place, and that we were going to set up things right there. (Later she told me that that was her “secret” place, where she met with my cousin and Pomeshchikov and other lovers.) And the grove really did turn out to be charming: a little ravine, a brook, and a sown field already thick with rye.
We sat down in the shade, made ourselves comfortable, and had a bit to eat and drink. The chauffeur had a bit to eat as well, and then went for a long walk. When we’d left Moscow and got into the country road, I’d noticed a GAZ-64 [a jeep] with an enclosed rear, which followed us constantly at a distance. Near the turn-off from the main road, I noticed another car, a Pobeda.
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I hadn’t been warned about this. I found out some of the technical details of the operation post factum, but certain professional secrets were so obvious that I had caught on to them by myself. But Lora, I think, had known about these cars—that is, she had known that we would be monitored for control and to prevent any sort of unforeseen occurrences.
Now we had one of those occurrences. I don’t think that this was arranged with Gribanov in advance. What happened was that a couple of hours later, a light gray Volga appeared in the forest grove, about 100 meters away from us. The half-drunk Lora whispered to me that her Feinzimmer had arrived. (Yes, I had heard previously that he had recently bought a Volga, after having spent several years on the waiting list.) Lora was right. It was Feinzimmer. Paying us no attention, he got out of his car, got undressed down to his underwear, opened the hood of his car, and began to fiddle with the engine. Of course, he noticed Lora among us, but he pretended that he didn’t see her.
De Jean realized that the arrival of this unknown person signified something to Lora, and, watching Lora, he realized that she was not wholly indifferent towards this person. Familiar with the mores of movie actors, he became jealous, naturally, even though he was showing it in a jocular manner. And Lora enflamed his jealousy. I directed her in a whisper to go down into the ravine and followed after her, while Alla flirted with De Jean.
In the ravine I gave Lora a berating directive. I told her that she was wrecking Gribanov’s operation, that she was introducing the element of anarchy and self-initiative into it. I asked her who gave her permission to tell Feinz-immer that she was going to be here, and not alone but with friends? She began to defend herself and answered that this was all purely an accident, and that she hadn’t told Feinzimmer anything. However, I think she was lying. She had decided, with a woman’s logic, to kill two birds. On the one hand, probably having had a fight with Feinzimmer, she was demonstrating her prowess as far as men were concerned through this encounter. On the other hand, she was really getting De Jean worked up. Lora herself was overly excited, and this was making me nervous. Maurice, however, was looking at her with desire. This was Lora’s improvisation—an improvisation which, in the event of failure, would have cost her dearly. But right sides with the victors. Since she triumphed, everything was forgiven, and she was even praised for much that had been unexpected. (But I don’t know how Lora explained this entire episode to Feinzimmer after she married him.)
And so we were having a picnic while Kunavin and Misha sat in the KGB apartment next to Lora’s apartment, wearing clothes for an expedition, in waterproof hob-nailed boots, with backpacks and plywood suitcases, like real geologists, while Gribanov and Melkumov waited for news, hovering over the radio operator. Our picnic outing was being reported in great detail. After
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all, both vehicles, the GAZ-64 and the Pobeda, were equipped with radio transmitters.
It had been decided that we would return to Moscow at five o’clock. Melkumov had given me strict orders not to be late. I tried to hurry Lora along, but she dallied.
Finally, we set out on our return trip. (Feinzimmer left earlier, not having approached Lora after all.) Somewhere on the road I pulled ahead of a car in a no-passing zone. (I didn’t have a KGB permit to avoid a license and registration check, since my Volga wasn’t an operative car.) I was stopped by a highway patrolman. The Chevrolet pulled over behind me. This was immediately reported to Gribanov via radio. As Kunavin later told me, Gribanov cursed both me and the highway patrolman. But the latter, having verified my documents and glanced at the little French flag on the ambassador’s car, quickly saluted and let me go on my way. As we were nearing Moscow we came up to a small and rather dirty lake. Lora suddenly decided to go for a swim, and asked the ambassador to stop the car. I noticed this in the rearview mirror and also stopped.
We walked up to the lake. I was hissing at Lora, recalling Melkumov’s order, since we were already running late. She just laughed in response and did whatever she pleased. (We made sure the ambassador didn’t hear us arguing, of course.) O, great is the power of woman! How right Lora was in everything, listening to her intuition and acting in accordance with some sixth sense. I was forced to follow her into the lake. Maurice and Alla didn’t swim, and Lora didn’t have a bathing suit. And so right in front of the ambassador’s eyes, she began undressing and climbed into the water in just her slip, which immediately conformed to her body, and when she came out of the water, she looked not just naked, but naked twice over. She came out of the water several times and walked around on the shore looking like this. Poor Maurice!