Standing up, he edged forward, seeing Clarke nearby in the office. He was occupied and Leo took his chance, moving quickly, hurrying towards aisle 35. Reaching the aisle he turned right, his hand moving across the numbers, finding the ninth unit. The box was on the top shelf, third along. He took hold of it, his arms trembling with emotion. The box was heavy and he struggled with it before managing to set it down. As if he was handling a box of precious treasure, he slowly removed the lid.

Inside was a mass of documents, details of the United Nations concert, a programme, official letters written from the Kremlin regarding the trip, discussing the Student Peace Tour, the proposals and protocol. As a former agent, Leo’s sense for what was important had been developed over many years of searching through papers and personal belongings. These were formal state documents. They revealed only the surface gloss of the tour. His hand touched the bottom of the box, feeling something hard, the spine of a book – it was a diary.

Leo read the first entry, remembering the words as surely as if he’d written them himself:

For the first time in my life I feel the need to keep a record of my thoughts.

Harlem

Bradhurst - West 145th Street

Three Days Later

In the back of a cab Leo clutched a notebook in which he’d transcribed the most important details from Elena’s journal. Unable to steal the diary in its complete form, he’d studied the pages in the archive at every unsupervised opportunity. The timeline ran up until the afternoon before the concert, the last day Raisa was alive. After coming back to the hotel from her meeting with Jesse Austin, Elena had been escorted to her room. Getting ready for the dress rehearsal, she’d snuck into the bathroom and made one final entry. This scribbled, hastily written page was unquestionably the most important. Leo had ripped it from the journal, stuffing it into his sock along with the other notes he’d taken and smuggled them out from the archive.