"Caught red-handed would do nicely.For this little lot alone you could get five years." Lukin rummagedthrough one of the suitcases and plucked out two bright red camisoles.

"Yours?"

"I'm holding on to them for afriend."

"The French Ambassador's wife, nodoubt?"

Rizov smiled nervously. "Considerthem a gift."

Lukin let the garments fall. "Sitdown, Rizov."

Rizov pushed some dirty clothes off thebed and sat. "Perhaps if the major told me to what I owe the pleasure ofhis visit? Can I get the major a drink?"

"You know, it never ceases to amazeme, Rizov."

"What does?"

"We must have the tightest bordersand ports in the world and yet people like you still manage to smuggle in justabout anything."

Rizov shrugged amiably. "The majorknows if I can provide a service for the good citizens of Moscow, it makes mefeel good. I consider it social work, not crime."

"I'm sure a judge would see itdifferently. You'd sell your own grandmother for a profit, Rizov. You're arogue beyond redemption." He removed the brown bottle from his pocket andplaced it on the table.

"What's that?"

"Ether. You've heard of ether,Rizov. A chemical liquid used as an anesthetic."

"I know what ether is." Rizovpointed to the bottle. "But what's this got to do with me?"

"Do you know how to get ether inMoscow?"

"No, but I've got a feeling themajor will tell me."

"Unless you're a doctor or ahospital administrator or work in certain industries, it's impossible to buy.Its purchase is strictly controlled and monitored."

Rizov shrugged. "You learn somethingevery day. What's it got to do with me?"

"If somebody wanted a small quantityof ether and fast, no doubt your friends on the black market would find a wayto oblige for a price?"

Rizov pursed his lips and nodded at thebottle. "Was it bought, on the black market?"

"Perhaps. Or stolen from a hospitalor surgery."

Rizov shrugged. "I heard some of theillegal abortion clinics buy it on the black market."

"Among your friends, who'd be daringenough to steal it?"

Rizov shook his head. "Major,really, I know nothing about such things. Food and drink, sure. But stuff forhospitals, forget it. Five years in a camp is one thing. A bullet in the neckfor stealing prescribed chemical substances is another." . "Answerthe question, Rizov. I'm not in the mood for playing around. This is important.Who'd be daring enough to steal ether?"

Rizov sighed and put a hand to hisforehead and thought for a moment, then looked up. "Perhaps the Crimeangypsies. Or the Turkmenistans. They're a bunch of reckless bastards who deal indrugs and stuff. They'd steal the food off a policeman's plate if they thoughtthere was a profit in it."

"Give me names."

Rizov shook his head and laughed."Major, as Stalin is my judge, I keep away from that lot. They're not onlymad, they're dangerous. Even sending them to the camps doesn't frighten them.Like weeds, they'd thrive in fucking shit."

Lukin's hand slapped hard on the table."Names, Rizov. I want names. They're acquaintances of yours. You work theblack market together."

"On the grave of my dead mother Iknow none of them. And even if I did and ratted they'd have my balls for Worrybeads."

Lukin grabbed the little man by his shirtcollar. "You're, a lying rogue, Rizov. And your mother's alive and livingin Kiev."

"I don't associate with thesepeople, Major. Drugs, stuff like that, it's too risky. Me, I stick to food andclothes."

Lukin looked about the room. "Youlike living here?"

Rizov threw an eye quickly over thefilthy, tiny flat and said flippantly, "Sure. I love it." He saw thelook on Lukin's face and his tone became more respectful. "it could beworse."

"Worse than a log hut in some icycorner of Siberia?"

"It's just as cold here, believe me.The plumbing hardly ever works. Not that I'm complaining, mind, just that inwinter your balls feel like lumps of ice."

"Rizov, get it into your thickskull, I'm not playing games here.

"You wouldn't have me sent to Siberia,Major Lukin. You're too kind a man. Besides, what have I done?"

Lukin nodded at the suitcases on the bed."That stuff's worth five years if I report you. Ten if the prosecutor's ina bad mood. even longer if I recommend it. And believe me, I'll recommend it ifyou don't cooperate."

Rizov's face drained. "Major-"

"Think about it. An old dog like youdoesn't need the hard road. Talk with your black-market friends. Use all yourcharm and cunning. If anyone bought ether in the last few days I want to knowabout it."

He saw the puzzled frown on Rizov's faceand said, "Someone used it to carry out a serious crime. Don't fail me onthis one or I swear I'll have you on a prison train to Archangel bymorning."

He let go of the little man and put theempty bottle on the table. "Take this. It may help your Turkmenistanfriends remember. Tell them from me that if they don't come up with answers,they'll be keeping you company on the train."

He took a slip of paper from his pocketand slapped it on the table. "You have an hour, no more. Call me at thisnumber."

He crossed to the door and skewered Rizovwith a steely look.

"I mean it, don't fail me. One hour.It's a matter of life and death."

The room stank like a sewer and so didLebel.

A blinding light blazed in the ceilingand his body was drenched in sweat.

As he came awake in the filthy cell andstruggled to sit up he found he couldn't. He was lying on a metal table andtied down with leather straps.

He had come awake to the sound of distantscreams and it didn't take much imagination to know where he was.

The cellars of the Lubyanka.

His body ached with pain and his mouthfelt twisted. He tasted blood on his lips. The two men had beaten himsenseless, punching and kicking him in the kidneys and stomach until the painwas unbearable and he threw up.

Then they started on his face. Punchesand blows that made his head swim and finally left him unconscious. When hecame to they started all over again, this time with rubber hoses, until hepassed out once more.

Now he moaned and looked down at hisbody. His shirt and vest were gone. And his shoes and socks, although he stillhad his trousers. He had wet his pants after the painful blows to his kidneys.

He slumped back on the table.

He had been through it all before with theGestapo. And what worried him was that he knew the real torture hadn't everstarted yet. The men had only softened him up. The worst was yet to come.

As he lay there in agony, he tried toconsider his options He had none really, except to tell Romulka everything. Andthen what? The man would probably kill him. He wondered what Romulka alreadyknew. Very little. Otherwise, why bring him here? He was probing, trying tofind answers.

He could hang in there playing dumb andhope that Roniulk@ would tire of the interrogation and let him go. But heguessed that Romulka wasn't the type to tire. Besides, the bastard seemed toenjoy inflicting pain.

Lebel had connections in Moscow. Someonewould intervene. But when? And by then it might be too late. Confessing wouldn'thelp Massey. And it wouldn't help Massey's friends Above all, it wouldn't helpIrena.

That thought worried him. Imprisoned, hehad no way of warning her.

But he wasn't going to talk. He wasn'tgoing to give her away. Besides, Romulka couldn't kill him. No, he just had tohold out and deny everything. A door clanged open. Romulka came into the roomflanked by the two men who had given him the beating.