Hitler's peace

I smiled thinly, opened the briefcase, took out the Beketovka File, and handed it over. I was still explaining the contents when Roosevelt cleared his throat loudly and interrupted.

“All right, gentlemen,” he said quietly. “Let’s get down to business. I’ll have to ask Professor Mayer and Mr. Bohlen to suspend their curiosity for a while longer. A lot of this might not make any sense to you right now, so you’ll have to be patient. All will be explained to you both eventually. I’ve asked you here now for a damn good reason. But I’ll come to that presently. Mike-have all the delegations arrived safely?”

“Yesterday.”

“How’s Churchill, Harry?”

“Sulking.”

“Well, I can’t say that I blame him. I’ll call him myself. See if I can’t persuade him to go along with this. As a matter of fact, I think we’re going to have some problems with General Marshall and General Arnold, for the same reason.”

Hopkins shrugged.

“All the same, it’s a pity.” Roosevelt lit a cigarette, smoking it without his holder, which seemed to bespeak a greater nervousness. Adjusting his position in his wheelchair, he looked at Reilly. “Mike? What’s our cover story to justify moving to the Russian embassy?”

“That it’s quite a hike between here and the Soviet embassy. Which would mean you driving through unguarded streets when there are still some German paratroopers at large. Between three and six still unaccounted for, according to the Ivans. Equally, there might be some kind of demonstration against the British, or against the Russians, in which case we might get caught up in it.”

“Actually, that’s quite true,” admitted Roosevelt. “Did you see the welcome we had on the way from the airport? I felt like Hitler driving into Paris.”

“And there’s no doubt,” continued Reilly, “that the Russian and British embassies are, by comparison with ours, almost impregnable. Did you know that this embassy has been robbed several times in the last month? Anyway, the Brits and the Ivans are right next door to each other, so if something did go wrong while we were there, we’d have plenty of troops to protect you, Mr. President. Anyway, the bottom line is this: that I don’t think anyone would argue if we claimed it was your safety that prompted us to move you into the Russian embassy.”

For a moment I wondered if my ears had deceived me. That Reilly had said something about moving the president of the United States into the “safety” of the Russian embassy. But then Roosevelt nodded.

“You say that, Mike,” he said. “But it’ll cause some comment, don’t think it won’t. Whatever the reason we put out. Everyone in the press corps will say that all of my conversations will be taped by the Russians using secret microphones. Unless we have some kind of line on that, I’ll be accused of being naive. Or worse. Not on the ball. Lame. Sick.”

“Then how about we say this?” offered Hopkins. “That in an effort to seem like we came to Teheran with no preconceived strategies cooked up by us and the British…” Hopkins paused for a moment and then added, “That in the spirit of openness and cooperation, we stayed at the Russian embassy in full knowledge that all our conversations would probably be monitored by the Soviets. But that we had nothing to hide from our Soviet allies. And that therefore it really didn’t matter a damn if they recorded our conversations. What do you think, Mr. President?”

“Sounds good, Harry. I like it. Of course, once we’re in the Russian compound we can close everything down and no one in the press will know a goddamned thing about what’s going on. Eh, Mike? No one’s better at keeping a lid on things than the Soviets.”

“That’s why we came to Teheran,” said Reilly. “To keep a lid on things. But before any of this, how about if we say that we asked Stalin over for a drink and he turned us down? That he refused to come over here. That way we can make it look like he’s the one who is more worried about his personal security than you are. And that this is what prompted us to make the move to their embassy in the first place.”

“Good,” said Roosevelt. “I like that, too.”

“And after all, Mr. President,” said King, “let’s not forget that it’s you who has come halfway around the world to be here. Not Stalin. It isn’t you who’s afraid of flying.”

“True, Ernie, true,” admitted Roosevelt.

“So when do we pull off this charade?” asked Harriman.

“Tonight,” said Roosevelt. “That way we can get things under way first thing in the morning. If the other side is agreeable.”

“They are,” said Reilly. “But Mr. Harriman raises a useful point when he mentions a charade. I mean, it might be best if we arranged some kind of decoy that saw you leaving the legation here and going to the Russian compound. Like before, with Agent Holmes pretending to be you.”

“You mean like a dummy cavalcade? Yes, that’s good. And meanwhile we go there in an unmarked van, through a side door, maybe. The servants’ entrance.”

“Are Soviet embassies allowed to have a servants’ entrance?” Hopkins laughed. “It sounds kind of anti-Communist.”