"Or was he premature… or careless… or even intentionally misleading in his preliminary report?" Kusinien continued.
Isotov leaned forward. "Your accusation is outrageous, Comrade Secretary," he snarled.
"And I contend that your report was meant to mislead us, Comrade Isotov," Kusinien challenged. He nodded at Suvorov and urged him to continue.
"We have since learned that the Su-39 took off from Danjia installation on the island of Hainan shortly before it crashed early the morning of ten October."
Drachev, the former GRU 3 Director, took up the report from there. "The Su-39 was destroyed, but our illegals managed to recover the bodies of two men. We have confirmed the identity of one, and are reasonably sure of the identity of the second. One was Air Major Arege Borisov. The second, we are almost certain, is Dr. Milo Schubatis."
Lvov could hear the stirrings around the table.
"Impossible!" Isotov shouted.
"Impossible? Not at all, Comrade General," Kusinien said calmly. "We have put together a rather cogent scenario of what really happened. Your antagonism toward the policies of President Aprihinen is well known. Your admiration for and your coalition with the Han Ki Po government is likewise well publicized. Therefore, we believe that when Air Major Borisov initiated his flight on fourteen September, he knew he was defecting. Let me state that more clearly: defecting under orders of Colonel General Viktor Isotov."
"Preposterous," Isotov said. He could feel Lvov move away from him.
"Was this part of the plot to assassinate Han Ki Po?" Kusinien demanded. "Was this an arrangement between you and Colonel Quan Cho?"
Isotov stood up. "This is an outrage."
"Sit down, Comrade General," Kusinien said. "If there is an outrage in all of this, it is you who have committed it."
"I will hear no more of these ludicrous charges," Isotov said. He picked up his briefcase and started for the door. He was surprised when no one tried to stop him. He opened the door and started for the vestibule and his waiting staff car.
As the Moskovich pulled out on the drive toward the front gate, Gorgi Kusinien picked up the telephone.
"Colonel General Isotov's car is approaching the front gate. When it arrives, place the General under arrest."
It was unusual for Inspector Konstantin Nijinsky to work directly with foreign diplomats, especially Americans.
As he waited in the vestibule of the American embassy, he was reminded of the more modest consulates of less-affluent countries, and at the same time he wondered how the Americans would respond to the news.
Nijinsky had seen the American Ambassador, Frank Wilson, on television many times. He knew what to expect. Still, it would be the first time for him to work outside the authority of his own homicide detail or not in conjunction with another government agency.
"Ambassador Wilson will see you now," the woman said, placing the telephone back in the cradle. She stood and escorted the inspector into Wilson's office. The Ambassador stood when they entered.
"Well, Inspector, what brings you out on a nasty day like this? Certainly not news of Gurin, I hope."
Nijinsky held on to his hat with both hands. It was still wet from the heavy snow. In addition to being uncomfortable about his appearance, Nijinsky knew his English was not as good as he would have liked it to be when he spoke to men like Wilson.
"We have indeed located Gurin Posmanovich," Nijinsky said. "Or perhaps I should say we have located his body."
"Body? What do you mean, 'body'?"
Nijinsky fished through his pockets and came up with a small brown imitation-leather note- book. Instead of handing it to Wilson, he began to thumb through it. He still hadn't clarified what he meant. "Have you seen this notebook before, Mr. Ambassador?"
Wilson glanced at the book and shook his head. "What did you mean when you said 'body,' Inspector?"
Konstantin Nijinsky squared his shoulders. "I'm afraid Gurin Posmanovich is dead."
"Dead?" Wilson repeated. "When? How? He said he was going to Zaporozhye to visit some of his friends for the weekend."
"He did not go to Zaporozhye for the weekend," Nijinsky said. He reached into his coat pocket and produced an unused airline ticket from Aeroflot. He laid it on Wilson's desk.
"Most curious," Wilson said. "Gurin had been planning that trip for a long time. Working here at the embassy as he does, he only gets one weekend a month off. He has always been very careful how he plans and spends his free weekends."
"I am curious," Nijinsky continued, still thumbing through the notebook. "Do these numbers mean anything to you?"
As Wilson looked at the numbers he made no effort to conceal his surprise. "They most certainly do, Inspector. Those are the sequences that open the codes on the embassy computer."
"Which does what?"
''Which enables someone to access and screen all coded messages coming into and going out of the embassy."
Nijinsky continued thumbing through the pages. "The book also contains
vestuka
numbers. Do you keep a record of telephone calls coming into and going out of the embassy as well?"
"Only official embassy business," Wilson admitted. "We do not log personal calls."
Nijinsky turned away from the desk and walked across the room. "What does the name Mikolai Korsun mean to you, Mr. Ambassador?"
The question caught Wilson off guard. On balance, Mikolai Korsun was not the kind of man someone in the position of Frank Wilson would be expected to include in his circle of friends. To admit that he knew Korsun was to forfeit some small part of his diplomatic immunity. "I don't think I know the man, Inspector," Wilson lied.
"Most curious," Nijinsky said. "According to Gurin Posmanovich's notebook here, you had an early-morning meeting with Korsun on Monday, six October, at the Vilnius on Butlerova Street. Or had you forgotten?"
Wilson knew Nijinsky had given him an out. But if he took it, he would forfeit his immunity. "I'd rather not answer that, Inspector."
"You knew, of course, that Korsun died shortly after that."
Wilson did not answer. He had not heard of Korsun's death.
Nijinsky looked over some of the items on the mantel of the Ambassador's fireplace. "I don't always believe that we are judged by the company we keep. Do you, Mr. Ambassador?"
Again Wilson thought it prudent not to answer. Nijinsky picked up a statue of an elephant, examined it, and set it back down. "I have never seen a real elephant," he admitted. "I have seen them on television and in moviesbut never in real life."
Wilson leaned back against his desk with his arms folded. "You still haven't told me how Korsun died, Inspector. Nor have you said how Gurin died."
"Both men were murdered." There was a matter-of-factness about the way Nijinsky said it that made Wilson think only a homicide officer could have phrased it that way.
Wilson had trouble with the word murdered. He repeated it twice.
Nijinsky folded his hands behind his back and stood with his back to the window. "I'm afraid it is a long and complicated story, Mr. Ambassador. But this same notebook, containing keys to your embassy computer access codes, also contains the vestuka numbers of people — people whose names our former KGB and GRU agents would find very interesting."
Wilson waited for Nijinsky to continue.
"This may surprise you, Mr. Ambassador, but Gurin Posmanovich was working closely with a GRU agent. After your meeting with Mikolai Korsun, Gurin simply informed his contacts what Korsun had told you. Someone determined that Mr. Korsun both knew and communicated too much… and the rest is history."
"But why was Gurin killed?"
"At this point it is only conjecture, mind you. We have not yet conducted an autopsy. Nevertheless, we are reasonably certain it happened shortly after he contacted his friends to inform them you had learned that both the Su-39 and Dr. Schubatis were located at the Danjia installation on Hainan Island. In return for that information, his contacts told him he would receive his 'usual reward.'"