Part 13 (1/2)
”Russkis?”
”Si, Russkis. Glasanov, NKVD?”
”Ah, si, si. Primo Russki.” si, si. Primo Russki.”
”Da,” said Levitsky in a dead voice. said Levitsky in a dead voice.
The man pointed up the building to the fourth floor. He showed four fingers.
”Gracias, comrade,” said Levitsky. He turned, went into the building through a set of double doors under one of the porticos, found some stairs, and walked swiftly up them. He pa.s.sed several policemen, but n.o.body challenged him.
At the fourth floor, he turned down the dank hall until at last he found a huge poster of Stalin and a desk. The air was thick, where men had been smoking, but now only a single woman sat at her desk, and near her a hulking Spanish youth lounged proudly with his machine pistol, an American Thompson.
He walked to the woman, whose eyes rose as he approached.
”Comrade,” he announced in a clear, commanding, humorless voice, ”I'm Maximov. From Madrid. You have my wire. Where is Comrade Commissar Glasanov? Let's get going. I've had a long and dusty drive. I have come to take possession of the criminal Levitsky.”
He watched a great range of emotions play across her face in what seemed to be a very short time. Finding at last her breath and her way out of her shock to some kind of coherence, she leaped up and shouted, ”Comrade! It's a pleasure to meet you and-”
”Comrade, I asked a question. I did not come by for meaningless chitchat of a social nature. Where the b.l.o.o.d.y devil is Glasanov? Didn't he receive the wire?”
”No, comrade,” she stammered. ”We received no wire. Comrade Commissar Glasanov is off to arrest-” And she halted, terrified.
”Arrest whom?”
The woman could not begin to tell Levitsky that Levitsky had escaped.
”No, it's-”
”It doesn't matter. Please arrange to have me taken to Levitsky at once. I have explicit orders.”
”I-I-I-”
”Can it be, comrade, that Levitsky is gone? Has Levitsky escaped from Glasanov? Comrade, tell me.”
The girl was almost white with terror.
”I have my sources,” said Levitsky coldly, staring furiously at her. ”I can tell you, comrade, that Madrid-and Moscow-don't appreciate being made to look silly by an old man. It sounds like wrecking, deviation, and oppositionism.”
”I can a.s.sure you, Comrade Maximov-”
”What is your name, comrade?”
”I am Comrade Levin, comrade.”
”Comrade Levin, it is most urgent that I speak with Comrade Commissar Glasanov on this matter of Levitsky. This is not a playful request, I a.s.sure you, comrade. I have a report to file. I am under extreme pressure from Moscow myself. I would hate to have to tell the committee secretary that in Barcelona our representatives are sluggish and inefficient, given to Spanish ways. It almost makes me think-”
”Comrade, accept my apologies, please. You must understand how hard we work here, how difficult the problems are.”
”And let me tell you, comrade, that in other areas of Spain our policies are pursued with much greater Party discipline and control. Our detention houses are everywhere. There are no Trotskyite columns, no open denunciations of the general secretary, no Anarchist oganizations patrolling the streets, no opposition newspapers. Moscow has noticed the comic opera here in Barcelona. We have our sources. We are not surprised.”
”But comrade, the problems are so different here. Only here, in the early days-”
”The problems are no different, but perhaps the quality of the personnel is different.”
”Comrade, I can a.s.sure you the arrest is imminent. Even now, the commissar is-”
”This would seem his only arrest.”
”Oh, no. No, comrade, begging your pardon. No, we have been very diligent. Our commissar works like the very devil himself. Night after night. Look, Comrade Maximov, I'll show you. Come, please.”
She took a key from her desk and led him back into Glasanov's inner office.
”I'll prove it to you,” she said. ”I'll show you the records.”
Lenny Mink watched the fat man s.h.i.+ft the briefcase back and forth. He kept asking people for the time. He was a mess. Lenny could almost smell the fear. It was five past.
Come on, Teuful Teuful. You're dead in Spain without papers. Without papers, the Asaltos shoot you. Come on, old devil, come to me. This is your only hope. Now, when it's crowded, when the soldiers move down the street, when you think it's safest.
There was a sudden pop in the air.
Lenny, startled, looked about. Pop, pop, pop. His eyes shot back to the fat Igenko, who stood on the verge of panic amid the suddenly frozen crowd, peculiarly reddish, as if- Flares. The twilight sky had filled with red flares, like small pink suns that hung, floating, against the dusk. Music rose tumultuously in the weird spectacle; it was the Internationale.
”Boss-” It was Ugarte.
”Shut up,” Lenny said, shooting his eyes back to the frightened Igenko, afraid he'd fled. No, he was still there.
Soldiers. One of the militias must have been heading out to the front. Igenko stood in the pink night as the soldiers swept along the Ramblas, on either side of him, and the crowd surged toward them to line the way, and Igenko, against his will, was caught in the human tide.
”f.u.c.k it,” said Lenny, just as Igenko was hurled out of sight in the ma.s.ses. Trust the devil Levitsky to pull something like this.
He vaulted the counter smoothly and his long, powerful strides took him through the running people. He bowled a man over, shoved others aside, knocked a woman down.
Someone grabbed him.
”Hey, comrade-”
”SIM,” he barked. The grabber fell back instantly. Lenny pulled the automatic from his mono and pushed on. He hated the idea of failure. Rage filled him. Where was the fat man?
There, yes. He'd had a glimpse, through the troops and beyond the crowd on the sidewalk on the other side. He was right at the Arco de Teatro, about to disappear through the arch and vanish in the winding, messy old streets of the Barrio Chino, which the Anarchists controlled.
Lenny dashed across the way, pus.h.i.+ng through the mob of soldiers.
He could hear them yelling sporting things at him.
”Hey, come to war with us, comrade, if you're so eager.”