Nine
There was a moment of silent melodrama. Masinov stood there with a noncommittal grin on his face. Irina looked as if she’d just been caught in a raid by the vice squad. I stared at Masinov and hoped that I looked undisturbed. Many things were going through my mind.
“All right,” I said, “but it is rather late, isn’t it?” Masinov had said the Kremlin, so I decided I wasn’t being arrested and that it probably meant someone in the KGB was curious about me.
“True,” he said, “but some of the comrades still have the habit of working at night. It is a hangover from the days of Stalin.”
“Let’s go, then,” I said. I looked at Irina. “I’ll see you later, baby.”
I stepped out of the apartment and closed the door behind me. Masinov and I started walking down the corridor.
“What is all this?’
