The Janus Man

Four

`Sit down, Lysenko. How is your plan progressing?'

It was typical of Mikhail Gorbachev that he kept the question terse and came straight to the point. The master of the Soviet Union sat in a large chair at the head of the long oblong-shaped table in his office inside the Kremlin, the section which tourists never see, an old, four-storey building deep inside the ancient fortress.

Dressed smartly in a dark grey, two-piece business suit, he shifted his bulk restlessly, his large hands playing with a pencil. His whole personality exuded an aura of physical and mental energy as he studied the GRU general.

`I have just arrived from Leipzig with the latest news.. `I know that. What is the latest news?'

`The trap to lure Tweed to West Germany has been sprung. A close associate of Tweed's, Ian Fergusson, took the bait. He arrived in Hamburg when he heard a Polish refugee had urgent news…'

Lysenko, in his sixties, stockily-built and with a slab-like face, kept his explanation as short as possible. The General Secretary had a short fuse where wafflers were concerned.

`Erwin Munzel, the East German executioner, killed him – made it look like an accident. Tweed won't accept that…'

`You've left a bit out. Who is this Polish refugee? And did Fergusson meet him before he had his accident?'

`Yes, he did. The refugee is Ziggy Palewska, a piece of rubbish. He lives off providing information to whoever will pay for it…'

`And where does he get information from?'

`Other refugees he's friendly with. As you know, Schleswig-Holstein, the part of Germany closest to Denmark, is crammed with refugees who fled from East Prussia and other places after the Great Patriotic War…'

`I know that. Did Fergusson meet him?'

`Yes. Munzel organized the permanent accident shortly after Fergusson had left Palewska's place in Hamburg.'

`This Munzel…'

`Erwin Munzel, General Secretary…'

`I know the name. His father was a Nazi, an SS General?'

`That is so…' Not for the first time Lysenko marvelled at the remarkable range of Gorbachev's detailed knowledge. He wanted to know everything – about everybody. Not a comfortable feeling – but Gorbachev was not a comfortable man to sit down with. Lysenko felt the moisture growing on the palms of his hands.

`And this professional assassin, Erwin Munzel. Also a bit of a Nazi, I hear.'

`He is one of us though…'

`No German is one of us.' Gorbachev's expression froze.

`But if we can point them the other way – against the West, so be it. An expert on accidents, our lackey, Munzel?'

`He's quite brilliant.'

`He had better be when he deals with this Tweed. The new policy is apparent – I emphasize apparent – arm's-length friendship with the Americans while Reagan is president. After that, we'll get someone softer. No American president in my time will be as tough and realistic as Reagan. In the meantime, no serious incidents to destroy the illusion.'

`The death of Tweed will look like an accident,' Lysenko assured his chief. 'But it is essential to our plan. Only Tweed could detect the major operation under way to demoralize Britain – and maybe even defeat all our efforts.'

`Then he must go…' Gorbachev paused and Lysenko pushed back his chair. 'Keep your backside in that chair, I'm not finished,' Gorbachev growled. 'Is Balkan still in place? It should make your job easier – knowing what Tweed is doing almost before he knows himself.'

`Balkan is the best agent we've ever had. We can't miss so long as he is in London. Plus his other function.' Lysenko waxed enthusiastic. 'Balkan is the most audacious manoeuvre we have ever pulled off. Tweed would go berserk if he discovered the truth. He would never believe it possible…'

`Time you flew back to Leipzig to oversee the operation. Is Markus Wolf still useful? He's held that job a long time now.'

Gorbachev was referring to the chief of East German Intelligence based in East Berlin. He watched Lysenko closely, searching for any doubt in tone of voice or expression.

`I cooperate with Wolf very well…'

`You direct Wolf,' Gorbachev corrected him. 'Never forget he also is another bloody German.' Seated, he waited until Lysenko had almost reached the exit door before he barked out the warning.

`You could get over-confident where Tweed is concerned. I was rereading his file last night. That man is very clever – so, very dangerous. Go!'