A Man Without Breath

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 Schlachter. ‘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 Schlachter. ‘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. Schlachter 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 Schlachter 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.’

Schlachter 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.’