The Seventh Function of Language

I got back from Moscow yesterday. The visit went well, or at least I think it did. I got back, in any case. We had a few drinks, me and the old guy. He was friendly and seemed pretty drunk by the end of the night, but I don’t believe he really was. I do the same thing sometimes, pretending to be drunk in order to win people’s trust or get them to lower their guard. But as you can probably guess, I didn’t lower mine. I told him everything he wanted to know except, obviously, I didn’t mention you. I said I didn’t believe in the manuscript’s power, and that was why I didn’t inform him about the Paris mission, because I wanted to be sure first. But as certain agents in my service did believe in it, I decided it was better to be safe than sorry, so I sent a few agents, and I told him that they’d been overzealous.Apparently, the French services are investigating at the moment, but Giscard is pretending not to know anything about it. Maybe you can use your husband’s connections to find out? Either way, you should be very careful, and now that the old man is watching me, I won’t be able to send you any extra men.

The van driver got here safely, and so did the fake doctor who gave you the document. The French will never be able to find them—they’ve gone on holiday to the Black Sea, and they are the only people who could possibly lead anyone to you, along with the two other agents who died and the one who’s stayed there to oversee the investigation. I know he was wounded, but he’s tough. You can count on him. If the police find anything, he’ll know what to do.

Allow me to give you some advice. You must file away a copy of that document. We are used to keeping and hiding precious documents that must absolutely not be lost but whose contents cannot under any circumstances be divulged to anyone else. You must make a copy of it, one only, and give it for safekeeping to someone trustworthy who has no idea what it’s about. Keep the original on you.

One other thing: look out for Japanese people.

All right, that is my advice for you, my Juleshka. Make good use of it. I hope you’re well and that everything will go as planned, even if I know from experience that nothing ever goes as planned.

Your old father who watches over you,

Tatko

PS: Write back to me in French. It’s safer, and anyway I need to practice.

38

There is some faculty housing at the École Normale Supérieure, behind the Panthéon. We are in a large apartment, and the weary-looking, white-haired man with bags under his eyes says:

“I’m alone.”

“Where is Hélène?”

“I don’t know. We had another row. She had a horrible tantrum about something absurd. Or maybe that was me.”