11.
Baron Yuri Lavrentovitch Ivanov’s house had been built for a titled cousin of Lord Nelson’s. The drawing room was very high, very dark and very English—a soft dark polish of woodwork and padded leather.
Count Anatol took pride in his ability never to let feelings get the better of him but he had to fight the impulse to pace the room: he tried to force his mind into the discipline of reading but his eyes kept returning impatiently to the Seth Thomas clock on the oak mantel.
Finally the Baron came in quickly on his short legs; he still wore his topcoat. “My deepest apologies, Anatol.”
“I am not in the habit of being kept waiting.”
“A cipher came in through the bag. I have just decoded it. There has been a complication.” The Baron shouldered out of his coat and threw it across a chair; he tossed an envelope on a low table and dropped into a leather reading chair beside it. “Did you know that Stalin employs a double?”
Anatol felt his spine tighten. “No.”
“He suffered a severe breakdown shortly after the German attack. He had to be spirited out of Moscow to a retreat in the Kuybyshev. For more than two weeks in June and July the Soviet government was run by Beria and Malenkov. They employed a double to put in public appearances to allay suspicions in Moscow. Obviously this was no last-minute deception—they must have had the understudy well-trained and waiting in the wings for just such an emergency. For those seventeen days the top Soviet echelon was powerful enough to manage things in Stalin’s absence. They kept the machinery functioning during the worst days of the panzer drive into Russia. They are stronger men than we have credited them.”
“It only confirms what both Devenko and Danilov have insisted on—we cannot merely assassinate the top man, we must eliminate the entire palace guard.”
“Quite. But that reasoning doesn’t apply in the calculations of our people in Germany. They have been moving forward on the assumption that they need only kill Stalin. They feel there would be no further resistance to a German victory. The Grand Duke Mikhail is eager to see Hitler win it.”
“I know. That’s why we did not take him into our confidence.”
“His people know something is in the wind. Rumors have ways of wafting across warring borders. They know we are up to something. That is why I had hoped one of them could meet us this week—I wanted to throw them off the scent. If you had told them to their faces that we were not trying to beguile Mikhail I think they might have believed it. Mikhail thinks of you as a friend—he trusts you.”
“He has gone over to the Nazis. He is hoping Hitler will put him in the Kremlin—Mikhail would rather have a puppet throne than none at all. I want to see Russia ruled by Russians, not by an Austrian house painter.”
“It is academic now what we tell Mikhail’s group about our plans. It appears they have a plan of their own.”
“What?”
“Mikhail’s people have concocted a plan to assassinate Stalin.”
“You are sure?”
“Quite sure. My informant says they plan to kill Stalin and make use of the double who has been so considerately prepared by Beria. The double will issue a few crucially wrong orders to the Red Army. The Germans will march into Moscow and the double will sue Hitler for peace. Only two men know about the existence of the double—Beria and Malenkov—and they are to be removed early on.” The Baron added drily, “You must grant it is an ingenious plan.”
Anatol was stunned; he wasted no effort trying to hide it. “How soon is it to take place?”
“As soon as possible, I should imagine. Why should they wait? Hitler is within three days’ march of Moscow. If the Red Army withdraws from his front there will be nothing to stop him.”
Anatol watched the Baron’s small expressionless face. “We must prevent it.”
“How? There is no time to effect our own coup ahead of them. Clearly Danilov requires several weeks yet before he is in readiness. And there would be no time to substitute Vassily Devenko’s plan.”
“There is one way.”
“Forgive me but I do not see it.”
“It is quite simple,” Anatol said. “We must warn Stalin.”