Anna slowly released her breath. Could it really be all over, with just her escape to be organized at a later date? She almost felt some affection for him. ‘And you, sir?’
‘I must remain here. I am expecting progress reports. I will see you later, Anna.’
‘As you wish, sir.’ Enveloped in a sense of unreality, she went into the bedroom, closed the door, and undressed, laying the knife on the bedside table. She used the bathroom, and then was asleep in seconds; there were no more decisions that had immediately to be made.
She slept heavily, although vaguely disturbed from time to time by the jangling of the telephone in the next room. And then was awakened, very suddenly, by the sound of gunfire near at hand.
*
She scrambled out of bed, ran to the door, and pulled it open. Beria was shouting into the telephone, almost incoherently. He turned at her entry, lips drawn back in a wolfish snarl. ‘Bitch!’ he shouted. ‘Foul thing from the pit of hell!’
‘What are you saying?’ she cried.
‘You have betrayed me! You have betrayed Russia!’
‘How am I supposed to have done that?’
‘Fool that I was to trust you, to leave you alone in this apartment. To call Kruschev and tell him my plans.’
‘Comrade Commissar, I have no idea what you are talking about.’
‘You did not know that the army was alerted? That my men who went to confine the army to barracks would be overwhelmed? That they are surrounding this building now? Well, you will not live to enjoy your treachery.’ He reached for his holster. But Anna, anticipating things reaching this stage, had moved closer to the table, and now hurled the large pot of pepper into his face.
He gasped, stepped backwards, and tripped over a chair, hitting the floor heavily. Before he could recover, she had crossed the room in two strides. She could have killed him then – but her lightning reactions were already warning her that she might need him in order to get out of the Lubianka, so she merely grasped the wrist that was scrabbling for the gun, twisted it so that he gave a squeal of pain, and drew the pistol herself before standing away from him.
His pince-nez had come off, and he blinked at her, his face ashen with terror. ‘Anna!’ he gasped. ‘I saved your life.’
‘Not my life, Comrade Commissar. You preserved something you felt might be of use to you.’
Then there was a banging on the outer door.
‘Now,’ he said, ‘if you kill me . . .’
‘Get up,’ she commanded. ‘And go in there.’
He scrambled to his feet, glanced at her face and the gun, and went into the bedroom.
‘In there.’ She gestured at the wardrobe.
Another glance, then he obeyed. ‘I can save your life, again, Anna!’ he said. ‘I will save your life.’
The banging on the door was becoming more insistent. ‘We can talk about that later,’ Anna said, and stepped up to him, hitting him on the head with the butt of the pistol. He collapsed without a sound, half into the cupboard. His legs were still outside, so she bundled these in as well, and closed and locked the door. Then she turned towards her clothes, and heard a splintering sound as the outer door was forced.
*
There was no time to dress. As she looked at the bedroom door, this in turn was thrown open. It was Vera Berisova, accompanied by two women and two men. All were armed, but also terrified.
‘The army are in the building,’ Vera gasped. ‘They are shooting everybody. They are . . .’ She realized that she was addressing not her commander but a naked Anna, and Anna was already firing.
The five people went down in a welter of blood, the echoes reverberating around the apartment; not one of them had got off a shot in reply. Anna stepped over them and went to the outer door, listened to the growing noise seeping up the stairs: gun shots, most of it automatic fire, shouts, screams, curses . . . It was time for another quick decision. Several, in fact, governed by the single overwhelming fact that not even she could take on the Red Army, but also by the realization that if this was, as it had to be, a counter-coup, Beria would be their ultimate target . . . and she had Beria!
Continuing to use her nudity as a weapon, she left the apartment and went next door. The outer office was empty, presumably because four of the people she had just shot had been members of the staff. She went through to Beria’s office, riffled through the drawers of his desk, and found her purse. From this she took her passport, but discarded everything else; she could see no profit from trying to use the Walther against a sub-machine-gun.
She returned to the apartment and closed the door. Obviously it would be unwise for her to be armed in any way when the soldiers came in, or they might shoot her on sight, so she dropped the pistol in the midst of the dead bodies. Equally obviously, she needed to seem as ordinary and vulnerable as any woman would be in her position, and that meant being as modest as possible. She pulled on her knickers, and the door opened.
Hamilton stared at the five dead bodies, then at her. ‘You did this?’
‘It seemed like a good idea, Comrade Terpolov.’ He was carrying a pistol, and was a good ten feet away. She could not possibly reach him before being shot. She backed against the bedside table.
‘Where is Commissar Beria?’
‘In a safe place.’
He glanced around the room, then came back to her. ‘You have played your last trick, Countess. Tell me where the commissar is hiding, or I will shoot you in the stomach. I do not think even you will enjoy that.’
Anna stared at him, and the gun came up. But she had closed her fingers on the blade of the knife, and now she swung her arm to hurl it with all her force, at the same time stepping to one side. The bullet smashed into the wall behind where she had been standing; the knife thudded into Hamilton’s chest. He fell backwards with a shriek, hitting the floor heavily.
Anna watched him while she put on her dress, but he was clearly dying; blood was frothing from his lips. Now he gasped, ‘A knife?’
‘That too,’ Anna agreed, and sat on the bed to pull on her boots.
She had just finished lacing them when the door opened again, and she faced six soldiers, armed with tommy-guns. ‘Oooh!’ she screamed, rising like a startled pheasant.
The men stared at her, totally taken aback, then parted to allow another man through. This man was short and heavily built, with a bald head and pugnacious features. He was also, to her surprise, in a lounge suit, rather than uniform, and was unarmed. He regarded her for several seconds, then asked, ‘Who the fuck are you?’
‘Me?’ Anna kept her voice high. ‘My name is Anna Kelly.’
‘Kelly? You are English?’
‘I am American. My parents are Irish.’
He gazed at her, and she gestured at the table. ‘My passport is there.’
He went to the table, picked it up and looked at it, and laid it down again. ‘What happened to these people?’
‘They burst in here, shouting and screaming, then one seemed to hit another and they started shooting and knifing each other . . . It was terrifying, I thought they were going to kill me. But you came in the nick of time.’
Another long stare, while Anna assumed her most innocent expression. ‘Where is Commissar Beria?’
Anna pointed at the wardrobe, from where there were coming vague sounds.
‘What is he doing in there?’
‘I put him there.’
‘You . . .’ He looked at his aides for an explanation, and got none. ‘Who are you?’
‘Anna Kelly.’
‘You said that. But what are you doing here?’
‘I was kidnapped.’
He sat down, continuing to gaze at her. ‘You were kidnapped. By whom?’
‘By Commissar Beria.’
‘Why?’
‘Well . . .’ Anna licked her lips. ‘To have sex with me.’
‘What?’
‘I came here a couple of years ago, with a trade delegation. I met the commissar at
a party. Apparently he fell in love . . . well, he wanted to have sex with me, from the moment he saw me. So he organized that I should be kidnapped while on a visit to London a couple of weeks ago, and I was brought here bound and gagged.’
‘And?’
‘Yes, sir. He forced me.’
The man looked at his aides, who by now had been joined by several others. ‘This man, this lecherous creature, would rule Russia! So you put him in that cupboard? How did you do that?’
‘I hit him on the head.’
‘In the middle of the Lubianka. How did you hope to get away with that?’
‘Well, sir, he came back in the small hours of this morning, boasting that Marshal Stalin was dead and that he intended to take over the state. I asked if he didn’t need the authority of the Politburo to do that, and he laughed and said he intended to arrest and execute the lot of them. I realized that he was about to commit a great crime, but there was nothing I could do about it here, surrounded by his people. And then this morning there was the sound of gunfire, and he burst in and said a counter-coup was being attempted. I realized that I had the chance to help Russia, to help the world; so when he turned his back on me, I hit him and put him in the cupboard. Did I do the right thing, sir?’
‘You certainly did the right thing, comrade. But you took a terrible risk. If we had not come . . . You would have done better to kill him.’
‘Kill him?’ Anna gasped. ‘Oh, sir, I couldn’t have done that. I have never killed anyone in my life. I prayed for you to come, and you did.’
‘Prayed,’ he said thoughtfully ‘And I came. Let us see what we have here. Open that wardrobe.’
‘He will be very angry,’ Anna suggested.
‘Ha ha. He is going to be angrier yet.’
The door was opened, and Beria, who had been trying to get up, fell out. He turned on his knees, glared at them, his face suffused, and identified Anna. ‘That bitch,’ he shouted. ‘Arrest her.’
‘No, no,’ Anna’s new friend said. ‘It is you who are under arrest, comrade.’
‘You fool,’ Beria snarled. ‘Do you not know who that is? That is the Countess von Widerstand.’
‘The Countess . . . who is this person? Are you a countess, comrade?’
‘Do I look like a countess?’ Anna asked.
‘I have never met a countess,’ he confessed. ‘Who is he talking about?’
‘I have no idea.’
He looked at his people, and they shrugged.
‘She is a war criminal,’ Beria shouted. ‘A mass murderess. She is the most wanted woman in the world. Premier Stalin . . .’
‘Premier Stalin is dead. And the only criminal here is you. Take him downstairs. Lock him in one of his cells.’
The soldiers dragged Beria from the room, still shouting.
‘What will happen to him?’ Anna asked.
‘He will be tried, convicted, and executed.’
‘Gosh! And what will happen to me?’
‘Ah! Technically, I should hold you here as a witness to his crimes. But that is not really necessary. His treason is self-evident. To add charges of kidnap and rape would merely muddy the water. Nor do I feel that it would be in the best interests of the state. You have just done the Soviet Union a great service. You may even have saved us from the horrors of civil war. But you are not Russian, and it would be bad publicity to have to admit to the world that our state was saved by a foreigner. I am assuming that you will not rush off to a newspaper and sell your story?’
‘I would not dream of it,’ Anna said. ‘Do you think I wish to confess to the world that I have been raped?’
He smiled. ‘And we would, in any event, dismiss your story as the ravings of a mad Irishwoman. But we do owe you a great deal, and the least we can do is repatriate you as quickly and quietly as possible. Where would you like to go?’
‘Miami.’
He nodded. ‘I will arrange a flight.’
‘Without, if possible, touching down in England.’
He raised his eyebrows.
‘I am Irish, you see.’
‘Ah! I think there is more to you than meets the eye, young lady. But we will arrange it through a French airline. How soon will you be ready to leave?’
‘Just give me the time to pack my suitcase.’
He nodded. ‘One of my aides will wait for you.’ He got up and went to the door. ‘It has been a privilege to meet you.’
‘And for me, Your Excellency. May I ask your name?’
‘My name is Nikita Kruschev.’
‘Kruschev . . . I will remember it.’
‘You will hear of it again, I promise. When I am ruler of Russia.’
*
Donald Petersen looked up from the newspaper he was reading, seated behind the desk in his bookstore, and did a double take as he surveyed the tall, soberly dressed woman with the sable coat slung over her shoulders. ‘Anna? Good God!’
‘Shouldn’t I be Anna?’
He cast a glance around the shop. There were half a dozen potential customers browsing, but none was very close. ‘It’s just that I was told . . .’
‘That I am retiring. That is correct. I am on my way home from my last assignment now. But it so happens that I have been robbed of my purse and all my money. So I need your assistance, for the last time.’
‘You have been robbed?’
‘I was careless, I relaxed too soon. Will you help me?’
‘Of course we’ll help you, Anna. What do you need?’
‘Well, first, there’s the taxi that brought me from the airport. The driver needs paying.’
‘I’ll take care of it.’
‘Thank you. Then, I don’t know what time it is, but I imagine I’ve missed the last flight to Nassau.’
Petersen had worked with her for six years. ‘You, Anna, don’t know what time it is?’
She showed him her naked wrist.
‘Shit! Not that lovely German thing?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘It was solid gold, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, it was.’
‘What a goddamn’d shame. Well, yes, I guess you’ve missed the last flight to Nassau. You’d have made it if you’d checked in right away instead of coming down here.’
‘Donald,’ Anna said, ‘I don’t have any money.’
‘Ah! You want . . .’
‘A flight out tomorrow morning.’
‘I guess we can manage that.’
‘That means I’ll need a hotel for tonight.’
He sighed. ‘OK, you got it. I’d better see to the taxi.’
‘There’s just one more thing.’
‘What?’
‘We were talking about the watch I no longer have.’
‘Anna, there is no way you are going to be able to replace a Junghans in Miami.’
‘I know that. I’ll settle for a Rolex.’
‘You want a Rolex!’
‘A gold Rolex.’
‘You have to be kidding.’
‘I always wear gold,’ Anna pointed out.
‘Anna,’ he almost wailed, ‘you’re talking about five thousand dollars.’
‘So take it out of your emergency account. Listen, if Joe doesn’t authorize it, send me the bill and I’ll send you a cheque. Now, there’s just one thing more . . .’
‘Oh, my God! What now?’
‘I need a passport.’
‘How did you get here without a passport?’
‘I have one, in the name of Anna Kelly. But I can’t use that to get into the Bahamas. I’m too well known.’
‘So where is your real passport?’
‘On the cay, I hope. Come on, Donald, I know you keep a stack of spare passports, including British ones. It doesn’t have to be perfect, just something to wave at Immigration as I go through.’
He sighed. ‘I’ll need a photo.’
‘Then let’s do it. As soon as you’ve paid the taxi.’
*
‘Mrs Bartley!
’ Charles beamed. ‘You had a good trip?’
‘It had it’s moments,’ Anna said. She had been to the bank before coming on to the hotel, made sure that the certified cheque had been paid in, cashed a counter cheque for herself, and then bought herself a new purse as well as a summer dress with a matching sun hat and a pair of dark glasses. Incongruously, in the Nassau heat, her sable was draped across her arm; the hat was in her suitcase. ‘Can you squeeze me in for lunch?’
‘Of course, ma’am. You staying the night?’
‘I’m afraid not. I think I should be getting back, I’ve been away rather a long time.’
‘Yes, ma’am. You want me to call Mr Bartley?’
‘Mr Bartley is back?’
‘Oh, yes, ma’am. He been back over a week.’
‘That’s good. But I think I’ll surprise him. Can you charter me a boat for this afternoon?’
‘No problem, ma’am. And lunch?’
‘Why, Charles, I’ll have avocado, fillet – medium, with carrots and beans – and a bottle of Batailley. I’ll eat on the terrace.’
‘Yes, ma’am. Welcome home, ma’am.’
‘It’s good to be home, Charles.’
*
‘You sure you know the way through here, ma’am?’ Hawkins the charter skipper was anxious as he surveyed the ripples of white to either side.
‘Of course I do.’ Anna stood beside him at the helm. ‘I live here. Port a point.’
He obeyed, and a few minutes later they were nosing along the outside of the dock; with Fair Girl moored inside, there was no room for another boat. ‘Thank you,’ she said, and paid him the agreed fare.
‘You sure you going be all right, ma’am? This place got big dogs, maneaters they say.’
‘I know. They’re my dogs. Now, you sure you can find your way back out?’
He lifted her suitcase on to the dock. ‘Well, ma’am, I reckon I going along a bit on the inside. They got a better passage lower down.’
‘Good thinking. Well, thank you again and have a good trip.’
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