Red Moth

Later that day

Later that day, Pekkala reported back to Stalin. ‘I spoke to Semykin. The person we’re looking for does, in fact, appear to be the same Gustav Engel who is mentioned in your file.’

Stalin opened his mouth to speak.

‘There’s more, I’m afraid‚’ said Pekkala. ‘A special task force has been created by the SS for the purpose of removing thousands of art works from the countries occupied by Germany.’

‘I am already aware of that,’ replied Stalin. ‘Since we last spoke, I have learned from one of our agents in the Red Orchestra network, a woman who is based in Konigsberg, that, two weeks ago, Gustav Engel gave the order for the Seckendorff Gallery, which is the largest gallery at the Castle, to be cleared and repainted in order to make room for the Amber Panels, which they plan to display there until such time as the museum in Linz has been completed. Engel spent the past two weeks at Konigsberg, supervising the refurbishments and yesterday, according to our agent, departed from Konigsberg in a truck which had been specially outfitted to transport the panels back to Konigsberg. According to the agent, Engel is the lynchpin to Rosenberg’s entire operation in the East and the Amber Room is their top priority.’

‘The German army is already at the gates of Leningrad. We cannot stop them from reaching the Palace. .’

‘That is true,’ agreed Stalin, ‘but maybe we can put a stop to Gustav Engel.’

‘How is that possible?’

‘It is possible,’ replied Stalin, ‘because I am sending you to get him.’

At first, Pekkala was too stunned to reply. ‘I am not an assassin,’ he finally managed to say.

‘I am not asking you to kill him, Pekkala. I want you to bring him back to Moscow.’

‘And what would be the point of that? If we got rid of him, they would just appoint somebody else.’

‘That is where you are wrong, Pekkala. The Nazis chose Engel precisely because nobody else knows what he knows. With Engel at their head, this organisation will systematically rob our country of its cultural heritage, after which, if we can’t find a way to stop them, they’ll destroy whatever is left. Engel compiled the list of what they’d steal, what they’d ignore and what they would destroy. I need to know what’s on that list, Pekkala, along with the name of the traitor who’s been helping him. Gustav Engel can provide that information, and he will, if you can bring him to me. We can’t save everything, but we can at least deprive them of the treasures they have come to steal. Thanks to you and Major Kirov, we have identified the perpetrator of what may still become the greatest theft in history‚ unless you bring the criminal to justice.’

‘And the fact that he’s behind enemy lines. .’

‘That is merely an obstacle to be overcome, as you have overcome other obstacles in the past. You are the perfect choice for this task. After all, you know the layout of that palace and, according to your file,’ Stalin lifted up a tattered grey envelope, ‘you even speak German.’

‘That was part of my training with the Okhrana, but, Comrade Stalin, even if it was possible to arrest Engel and to bring him back to Moscow‚ is there enough time to accomplish the mission?’

‘Yes, if we move quickly. It will take Engel a week to travel from Konigsberg to the Catherine Palace. When he discovers the wallpaper instead of the panels, he may be convinced that the amber has been removed. Then, again, he may not. In either case, Engel is likely to remain at Tsarskoye Selo until he has conducted a thorough search. This will give you time to apprehend him and then to smuggle him back across our lines.’

‘I can find my way around the palace, Comrade Stalin, but whatever advantage that affords me is lost by the fact that I don’t know what this man Engel looks like.’

‘I have not forgotten this detail, and neither has Lieutenant Churikova. That is why she will be coming with you to the palace.’

‘You cannot ask her to take on a mission like this!’

‘I didn’t have to,’ replied Stalin. ‘She volunteered.’

‘When?’

‘After you left to find Semykin, Kirov drove her back to the Kremlin.’

‘Why would he do that?’

‘She told him to. When they arrived at the barracks where Churikova’s company had been quartered, in the hopes of finding someone, anyone, remaining from her signals unit, they found the place deserted. Everyone she had worked with died aboard that train when it was bombed. When Kirov asked Churikova where she wanted to go, she asked to return to the Kremlin. She returned to this office and offered to help in any way she could. I admire this woman, Pekkala. Without her, the task becomes impossible. She knows this. That’s why she volunteered, and why you should be grateful for her assistance.’

‘Send me,’ Pekkala told him. ‘Send Kirov, if you have to, but. .’

‘But not Polina Churikova?’ Leaning back in his chair, Stalin folded his hands across his stomach. ‘I wonder if that’s really who you’re trying to save.’

‘What do you mean, Comrade Stalin?’

‘Is it her, or is it someone she reminds you of?’

Pekkala felt the breath catch in his throat.

‘I have seen pictures of Comrade Simonova. The resemblance is uncanny, don’t you think? How difficult it must have been to say goodbye to her, that night she boarded the train.’

‘Leave her out of it.’

‘I have, Pekkala. Have you?’

Pekkala stood there in silence. The room was spinning around him — the red curtains, the red carpet — like a whirlpool filled with blood. ‘How on earth do you expect me to get through the German lines, with or without Churikova?’

‘You will require help, of course. Unlike the rest of the population, I do not believe you can simply vanish into thin air and reappear at the location of your choice.’

‘But you don’t know who the traitor is,’ replied Pekkala. ‘It could be someone from the staff who packed up the treasures at the Catherine Palace. Or from NKVD. Even someone from inside the Kremlin. If word gets out about this mission, the Fascists will be waiting for us when we arrive.’

‘I have considered that,’ said Stalin, ‘and I agree that we must choose someone unconnected with our current operations who can spirit you and the lieutenant through the lines.’

‘But the only people who possess those kinds of talents are already working for NKVD.’ He thought of Zubkov, the Tsar’s old Moscow bureau chief for the Okhrana, who had slipped back and forth between countries, both during and after the last war, aided by the ghost-like figures of the Myednikov Special Section.

‘I know what you’re thinking, Pekkala. You’re thinking that if the Bolshevik Secret Service hadn’t hunted down and killed every member of Myednikov Section, including Myednikov himself, those men might have proved very useful at a time like this.’

Pekkala remembered the head of the Bolshevik Secret Service, a Polish assassin named Felix Dzerzhinsky. He was a thin, humourless man with a sharp face and permanently narrowed eyes, who had personally sent thousands of people to their deaths.

‘The fact is,’ said Stalin, ‘Dzerzhinsky was not quite as efficient as he claimed to be.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Pekkala.

‘Not all of Myednikov’s men are dead. One of them survived, an old friend of yours called Shulepov.’

‘You must be mistaken, Comrade Stalin, I know of no one by that name.’

Stalin smiled. ‘Of course not. Shulepov is the name he has used since the Revolution. You might know him better as Valeri Nikolayevich Kovalevsky.’

Pekkala blinked, as if a handful of dust had been thrown into his eyes. ‘That can’t be true. Valeri Kovalevsky has been gone for years.’

As Pekkala spoke the dead man’s name, the face of his old friend loomed into the forefront of his mind.