CHAPTER 51

It was after the close of the Vienna medical-research conference, which went forward under the banner of “Science for Welfare,” that the bomb went off. For several hours it had simmered silently. The Soviet aide who had tended for five days to Dr. Lindbergh Titov—organizing his living arrangements, escorting him to and from the assembly meetings and seminar rooms, running diverse errands—now advised him that his reservations were in order for the flight back to Moscow the next morning at 0900.

Titov nodded, routinely.

“Do you need any arrangements made for tonight, Comrade Titov?”

“No,” Titov answered. “I will stay in my hotel, perhaps dine with one or two of my colleagues. Thank you, Preshkev.”

“Very well, Comrade Titov. The car will be here for you at 0700. We will arrive early.”

The next morning, the black Mercedes, its uniformed driver, and the chunky Captain Yaroslav Preshkev were there at the Imperial Hotel’s front door well ahead of time. Preshkev went into the lobby to wait. At 0700 he called up to Dr. Titov’s room, but there was no answer. He must be in the elevator, Preshkev thought.

But Titov didn’t emerge from the first elevator, or the next elevator. Preshkev froze. “Has Dr. Titov checked out?” he asked the desk clerk.

No, he hadn’t checked out.

Should he be reported as missing? Preshkev brought out from his pocket the book listing all 190 participants of the Science for Welfare conference. He picked out the telephone number listed for the arrangements secretary. But there was no answer. What else to expect, he hissed to himself, calling an office at that hour of the morning?

He looked for another listing, hoping that someone would answer the telephone even at that hour. But no one picked up the phone.

Dr. Alberto Angelo! The conference chairman! He too was staying at the Imperial. Preshkev all but ran to the concierge. “Please ring Dr. Angelo.”

“He is on Do Not Disturb.”

“Ring him anyway!”

“Sir, shall I put you through to the general manager?”

Preshkev clenched his fists. Using a public telephone, he dialed the Soviet Embassy. The duty officer answered. Preshkev identified himself sufficiently to be put through to the ambassador at his residence.

The ambassador listened to the alarmed voice. “That is grave news. I will call Moscow. Do not report his absence to the police. Proceed to the airport, to the departure gate. Perhaps he misunderstood and made his own way there. If he is not there for the flight, have the car bring you here. I will have preliminary reactions from Moscow.”

Colonel Bykov shouted at Captain Akimov. “Why did you let him go to Vienna with only a single security officer? Don’t just tell me that Titov has traveled before to other conferences. The point is not that he may have traveled once or twice before with only one single security officer. The point is: He is missing! One of the two or three most important scientists in the Soviet Union is missing. Why did you let that happen? Were there any signs of disaffection? Bring me his files.”

Bykov read them. He called Dr. Shumberg. He listened to Shumberg describing anti-state remarks made by Titov at their last meeting, a criticism which had been reported by Shumberg at the time, and duly entered into the Titov security file.

Bykov addressed Captain Akimov again. “What is the use of files if they are not acted upon? Here is clear evidence that Titov was a risk. But he is permitted to go to Vienna with only a single supervisor.”

He put down the file. He told Akimov: “Order an immediate inspection of Titov’s apartment. Let no one else enter the apartment or leave it. Get me a record of all telephone calls into and out of that apartment in the past week.”

Bykov would learn in less than one hour that no one was home in the Titov apartment, though it hardly looked abandoned. “Everything seems intact—I mean, the furniture, all the usual things. Dr. Titov’s desk has papers and manuscripts. There are no signs of preparation for departure. The refrigerator is running, though it is without fresh food. The boy’s room is full of model airplanes, scattered about. I don’t know what to say, Comrade Mikhail Pavlovich.”

Bykov called for his car and drove to the radiological institute.

He sat down at Titov’s desk and called in the four scientists designated as senior.

He addressed them in solemn tones. “We are concerned for the welfare of Dr. Lindbergh Vissarionovich Titov. He is missing in Vienna. It is not inconceivable that he has been kidnapped. Dr. Astrey: Was Dr. Titov near to completion on any particular research project?”

“Well, Colonel. Yes. He had done all the projections on UL 242.”

“What is that?”

“That is what Dr. Titov—what we have been working on for almost two years. A very exciting project. If I may say so, cosmically exciting.”

“Is it something your staff can complete without him?”

“Oh no, Colonel. His role is indispensable. We would need him here.”

Back in his office, Bykov called the mysterious and critical Esterhazy, at the office of the general secretary. He briefed him. “I propose to call out a general alarm in Vienna for Titov. And to report to the police that he may have been kidnapped.”

“I think you had better talk with the general secretary. Stand by.”

He was put on.

Gorbachev told him to proceed to issue that alarm.