Winter of the World

He rolled up the sleeves of his robe and began to wash the dishes, passing them to Zoya to dry. Washing up was not a very manly activity – Volodya had never seen his father do it – but Zoya seemed to think such chores should be shared. It was an eccentric idea. Did Zoya have a highly developed sense of fairness in marriage? Or was he being emasculated?

He thought he heard something outside. He glanced into the hall: the apartment door was only three or four steps from the kitchen sink. He could see nothing out of the ordinary.

Then the door was smashed open.

Zoya screamed.

Volodya picked up the carving knife he had just washed. He stepped past Zoya and stood in the kitchen doorway. A uniformed policeman holding a sledgehammer was just outside the ruined door.

Volodya was filled with fear and rage. He said: ‘What the fuck is this?’

The policeman stepped back, and a small, thin man with a face like a rodent entered the flat. It was Volodya’s brother-in-law, Ilya Dvorkin, an agent of the secret police. He was wearing leather gloves.

‘Ilya!’ said Volodya. ‘You stupid weasel.’

‘Speak respectfully,’ said Ilya.

Volodya was baffled as well as angry. The secret police did not normally arrest the staff of Red Army Intelligence, and vice versa. Otherwise it would have been gang warfare. ‘Why the hell have you bust my door? I would have opened it!’

Two more agents stepped into the hall and stood behind Ilya. They wore their trademark leather coats, despite the mild late-summer weather.

Volodya was fearful as well as angry. What was going on?

Ilya said in a shaky voice: ‘Put the knife down, Volodya.’

‘No need to be afraid,’ said Volodya. ‘I was just washing up.’ He handed the knife to Zoya, standing behind him. ‘Please step into the living room. We can talk while Zoya gets dressed.’

‘Do you imagine this is a social call?’ Ilya said indignantly.

‘Whatever kind of call it is, I’m sure you don’t want the embarrassment of seeing my wife naked.’

‘I am here on official police business!’

‘Then why did they send my brother-in-law?’

Ilya lowered his voice. ‘Don’t you understand that it would be much worse for you if someone else had come?’

This looked like bad trouble. Volodya struggled to keep up the facade of bravado. ‘Exactly what do you and these other assholes want?’

‘Comrade Beria has taken over the direction of the nuclear physics programme.’

Volodya knew that. Stalin had set up a new committee to direct the work and made Beria chairman. Beria knew nothing about physics and was completely unqualified to organize a scientific research project. But Stalin trusted him. It was the usual problem of Soviet government: incompetent but loyal people were promoted into jobs they could not cope with.

Volodya said: ‘And Comrade Beria needs my wife in her laboratory, developing the bomb. Have you come to drive her to work?’

‘The Americans created their nuclear bomb before the Soviets.’

‘Indeed. Could they perhaps have given research physics higher priority than we did?’

‘It is not possible that capitalist science should be superior to Communist science!’

‘This is a truism.’ Volodya was puzzled. Where was this heading? ‘So what do you conclude?’

‘There must have been sabotage.’

That was exactly the kind of ludicrous fantasy the secret police would dream up. ‘What kind of sabotage?’

‘Some of the scientists deliberately delayed the development of the Soviet bomb.’

Volodya began to understand, and he felt afraid. But he continued to respond belligerently: it was always a mistake to show weakness with these people. ‘Why the hell would they do that?’

‘Because they are traitors – and your wife is one!’

‘You’d better not be serious, you piece of shit.’

‘I am here to arrest your wife.’

‘What?’ Volodya was flabbergasted. ‘This is insane!’

‘It is the view of my organization.’

‘There is no evidence.’

‘For evidence, go to Hiroshima!’

Zoya spoke for the first time since she had screamed. ‘I’ll have to go with them, Volodya. Don’t get yourself arrested too.’

Volodya pointed a finger at Ilya. ‘You are in so much fucking trouble.’

‘I’m carrying out my orders.’

‘Step out of the way. My wife is going into the bedroom to get dressed.’

‘No time for that,’ said Ilya. ‘She must come as she is.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

Ilya put his nose in the air. ‘A respectable Soviet citizen would not walk around the apartment with no clothes on.’

Volodya wondered briefly how his sister felt being married to this creep. ‘You, the secret police, morally disapprove of nudity?’

‘Her nakedness is evidence of her degradation. We will take her as she is.’

‘No you fucking won’t.’

‘Stand aside.’

‘You stand aside. She’s going to get dressed.’ Volodya stepped into the hall and stood in front of the three agents, holding his arms out so that Zoya could pass behind him.

As she moved, Ilya reached past Volodya and grabbed her arm.