The Margin of Evil! by Simon Boxall Read Free Book Online Page A

hastily replaced the file back into the envelope, and buried it at the bottom of his in-tray. Such was the effect that the report had had on him, he felt obliged to put on his coat and go outside to take a breath of fresh air.
    By the time he returned to the office and looked into his in tray the report had gone. He could have kicked himself; he should have taken the report with him. He cautiously looked around him. No one seemed to be taking any interest in him. He sat at his desk and pondered. In his mind he started weighing up recent events; starting with the phone call, then the meeting with Gerhardt, followed by the appearance of the file, Comrade Trofimov, and the frosty response from 'The Cheka.'  On top of all this he was to go to the 'Ivory Tower' to listen to speeches made by Lenin and Trotsky.  The rest of the day dragged on.  After a department meeting with Trofimov and the other 'Good' comrades, Georgii managed to get away from the station.
    He got home and cleaned himself up. He lit the fire in the living room and stropped his cut-throat razor. He went upstairs and borrowed an iron from the writer. Downstairs he ironed his almost threadbare suit. Georgii did his shirt and then put his Sunday Best on.  It was now a size too big. Losing weight in Moscow was now a national pastime. He looked in the mirror and tidied himself up. He looked at his watch, grabbed his coat and left for The Kremlin. It was a forty-minute walk across town. It was snowing again and he could he feel each cold flake sting his face, he turned the collar up on his coat. He walked on, lost in thought, towards his destination. At one point he bumped into a man of 'Turkic' appearance [8] ; he didn't give it a second thought at the time, but their passing was to hold great bearing on Georgii in the not too distant future.
    Georgii crossed Red Square. A few people wandered here and there. He arrived and showed his invitation to the Red Guards manning the gate. They told him to wait. A guide would come and fetch him. He rubbed his hands and waited.  Eventually a guide came and they headed off towards the interior of the building. Georgii was well aware that The Kremlin was now the 'Nerve Centre' for all things Bolshevik. He knew that most of The Party leadership lived here. Georgii also knew that all key decisions were made within these walls. Further into the building he was led. One of the first things that struck him was how the place seemed relatively untouched by the upheaval of the previous two years. The carpets and the walls were clean and the pictures still hung on the walls. Occasionally, a picture had been removed and a shadow marked the place where it had once hung.
    Officials and messengers scurried past in different directions. No one seemed to take much notice of him as he made his way through the building. Eventually he came to his destination. In front of him was a pair of large double doors that led into a former ballroom. The doors opened and he was ushered inside. The sight that met his eyes was simply unbelievable. It reminded him of the 'Decadent' past. Inside visitors were served champagne and caviar. The buffet looked simply out of this world. He grabbed a drink and started making his way towards it. He was halfway there when Gerhardt called over to him. He picked up a plate and noticed that the 'Old' two-headed eagle was still on the crockery. How ironic he thought!
    ' Georgii Radetzky, glad you could make it! Let me introduce you to some people,' Gerhardt said.
    Slightly peeved, Georgii did as his mentor asked. One after the other he was introduced to 'Comrade-This' and 'Comrade-That.'  They all seemed to have heard quite a lot about him too and his work. By the time he managed to head back towards the buffet most of it had gone. Gerhardt approached him again.
    ' What do you think of all this Georgii,' he said.
    ' If I was honest, you would probably take me outside and have me shot,' he said.
    Gerhardt laughed.