Jiří weighed up the risk of going to Petr’s flat. It all depended on whether the cops had worked out where he really lived, by which he meant someone might have finked on him, and whether or not their sense of drama would be ruined if they banged on a door in the middle of the day rather than at daybreak. You should never underestimate the cop love of showing off.
He turned up his collar, pulled his woolly hat down to his eyebrows and took the risk.
Nell was in the kitchen. He could hear Petr clacking away on the typewriter in his study.
“We’re eating in. Care to join us?”
Before Jiří could answer, Petr’s voice boomed from the study.
“He can buy his own bloody food. This is not a soup kitchen!”
“He’s joking,” Nell said.
“If only,” said Jiří. “Nell. I have a problem.”
“Money? You’re always broke.”
“Well … of course … but there’s more … the secret police are on to me.”
Petr had ears like a jackass. He would hear a gnat fart as a tram went by. Now he stood in the doorway.
“What?”
“They came to Mami’s apartment this morning.”
“And you came here?”
“I’ve nowhere else to go.”
“You stupid little fucker.”
“Petr! Please,” Nell said. “Let the boy speak.”
“He’s said it all. The cops are after him, so he leads them here?”
“Were you followed, Jiří?” she said.
“No. And I don’t mean to put either of you at risk. I just … well I have no money.”
Petr grabbed Jiří from behind, his right hand locked into the scruff of his neck, twisting his shirt collar. With his left he opened the door wide and had thrust the boy halfway into the stairwell before Nell body-slammed him with her shoulder and forced him to let go.
Nell banged the door shut.
“For God’s sake, Petr. He’s your own flesh and blood.”
“Flesh dies, and blood bleeds. My flesh and blood died in prison ten years ago. This … this is a parasite!”
“Which is what the Party used to call you!”
This stopped Petr. Whatever he had to say next went unsaid. Instead he spoke more calmly.
“If he stays here, if he is found here …”
“I understand. He can stay at my apartment.”
“No, he can’t. It’s diplomatic territory. You’re the consul. That won’t stop the StB searching your apartment, but it will spread the fallout if he’s found there. A diplomatic incident. Think of Brandt’s reaction. Even the Americans aren’t taking in refugees, for just that reason.”
Nell turned to Jiří.
He was rubbing gently at the bruising on the back of his neck. His expression unchanged, unmoved by all this. So used to Petr’s rage that it bounced off him. He hadn’t resisted, and he wasn’t cowering.
“Then … then you must go to the British. Go to the embassy. They represent my country, they have a legal obligation to me. I will give you a letter. You must ask for Janis Bell. Remember the name: Janis Bell.”
“Nell,” said Petr. “The American Embassy is surrounded by police. What makes you think it will be any different at the British?”
“I was there yesterday. No Russians. No StB. There were just two regular police. Jiří will have to take his chances with them. May I use your typewriter?”