"I'll straighten him out," Yuri said. Then, as Perchik spoke again, he realized the true reason for his being summoned here.
"And where have your travels for the KGB taken you?"
"I've been in Kiev the past few days."
"Kiev, eh?"
Yuri nodded. "Kiev."
Perchik waited in silence, an expectant look on his face. Yuri knew that he was waiting to hear about the investigation. He also knew that he was forbidden to tell him anything. He reasoned that he shouldn't get his toes stepped on as long as he just danced around the subject.
"I had the opportunity to renew an acquaintance with an old colleague there," he ventured.
"Who was that?"
"Chief Investigator Oleg Kovalenko."
"He was the one who helped with the KGB case, wasn't he?"
As usual, Yuri was impressed by the prosecutor's knowledge and memory. For a case Perchik was not involved in but had only read about, it was little short of phenomenal. "He's the one."
"Does that mean General Borovsky is interested in the old KGB apparatus?"
Yuri was getting a taste of how hapless defendants must feel during the prosecutor's relentless probing. He knew it could only get worse. He saw no way out except to admit the truth. "I'm sorry, but I was instructed not to discuss the case with anyone but General Borovsky."
For a small man, Perchik could loom very large when angered. He bristled like a bantam rooster with its hackles raised. His face flushed. His dark eyes hardened like frozen ripe olives. "Were you told specifically not to discuss it with me?" he demanded.
Shumakov could see his career beginning to slip through his fingers. Maybe he could get work as a private investigator. "Specifically."
"By whom?"
"General Borovsky said it was Chairman Latishev's instructions."
"I might have known. Latishev considers me a rival. I was a little surprised when he called me about you in the first place. Have you decided to dip your toe into politics, Yuri Danilovich?"
"I swore off thinking politically several years ago," he said.
"Oh? Do you find politics abhorrent?"
"I wouldn't use that word."
Perchik's eyes flashed. "What else did General Borovsky say about me?"
"He said I could tell you where I was traveling."
Perchik gave a grunt of aggravation. "Generous of him. So what's your next port of call?"
"I'm going to Brest in the morning," he said, then realized that was a bit misleading. "Actually, it will be more of a personal thing than business. It has to do with my brother's death."
The prosecutor's face had begun returning to its normal pallid tint. "Well, I would advise you to watch your step with those state people," he warned icily.
Back at the modest quarters he had been given to work out of at the KGB, still more spacious than his own office, Yuri had just sat down at his desk when General Borovsky's secretary appeared in the doorway displaying her usual frumpy frown.
"I just tried to call you. The General has an appointment with the Chairman and wants you to go with him."
Chairman Latishev's office was in the old Central Committee of the Belarusian Communist Party Building, now occupied by the Supreme Soviet. He sat behind a large mahogany desk, its polished surface glistening in a beam of sunlight. A pensive man in his late-forties, he had a light brown mustache that matched his wavy hair. The deep furrows of his broad brow and the dark, sensitive eyes marked him as a man accustomed to the intellectual battleground. Following his army service, Latishev had been a dissident writer and spent several years in exile after publication in the West of his novel, The Everyday Tragedy. The book depicted the hopelessness of a young Soviet family living in a drab, cramped apartment, working at useless jobs they hated, harassed unmercifully by the system when they spoke out against their dehumanization. He had been freed from exile by Gorbachev about the same time as Andrei Sakharov. Back home in Minsk, he began exhorting the republic's Supreme Soviet to push for independence before it became all the rage in the Baltics.
Latishev leaned across the desk and shook hands with Yuri Shumakov. "It's a pleasure meeting you, sir," he said. "You did a great service in ridding us of that state security barbarian."
"Wasn't he the officer who arrested you?" Yuri asked.
"Yes. And then interrogated me beyond exhaustion. It went on and on and on until I lost all track of time. I couldn't tell you today how long it lasted. Fortunately, those days are gone. Let's hope forever. I regret to say, however, there are communists and nationalists in the bureaucracy and among our legislators who would have us go in a different direction. I have continually pleaded for people to put aside politics and do what is morally right. It appears we cannot enjoy the true fruits of freedom without being constantly on guard against the rise of new tyrants."
General Borovsky looked around at Yuri. "I told the Chairman that you had been checking into Major Romashchuk's recent activities in Kiev."
Latishev leaned on his desk, his hands folded tightly. "I urge you to press forward as vigorously as possible, Shumakov. These people are fanatics. I don't know if they have the support to accomplish anything, but they could cause a lot of grief."
"I'll certainly give it my best," Yuri assured him. "General Borovsky tells me they might be orchestrating efforts against some of the commonwealth governments. Do you think they might be pursuing the ideas espoused by Ivan Stelbitsky?"
Latishev moved a hand up to his chin and massaged it thoughtfully. "If that's their intention, they are in for a rude awakening. During my recent visit to the United States, the President promised me he would not stand by and let that happen. I think the Americans are morally shamed by their inaction years ago, when they declined to stop the Soviets' disgraceful intervention in Hungary and Czechoslovakia. He promised the U.S. would help defend us, that he would work through the Security Council and directly with other governments to support our independence."
Yuri's eyes widened. That was a powerful endorsement. "What do you think these people are up to then?"
"More likely they're out to undermine individual regimes, put power back into the hands of their old communist cronies. If they accomplished that, then they might push for a voluntary federation leading to a new Soviet-style system."
"The meeting here on July fifth may see efforts toward something close to that," Borovsky said, tilting his head to take in both Yuri and the Chairman.
Latishev gave a frown of disagreement. "I don't think so, General. Sure, we're going to adopt some measures of closer cooperation. But as long as I'm involved, there will be no diminution of our sovereignty. The people of Belarus would not stand for it."
As they left Government House for the walk back to KGB headquarters, General Borovsky summed up his old army colleague with a smile. "He's an idealist. He'd like to see the political leadership be above politics, but it doesn't work that way. Latishev is a soul brother to Czech President Vaclav Havel. Havel was a playwright, you know. They even look enough alike to be brothers."
"You evidently feel the threat is more immediate than he does," Yuri said.
"Latishev spoke out against oppression back when that was dangerous. The people know that. That's why they've supported him. But he's naive if he thinks there are only a limited number of hardliners still around. There are enough of them that General Zakharov and his crowd could throw things into complete disarray, if that's what they're after. We need to get to the bottom of this as quickly as possible."