“Yes. They said you were with him. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, shit. But he’s not your boyfriend, is he?”

“No. Do you know what happened to him?”

“He had five copies of Dissidence in his pocket, so he’s not getting out of the Lubyanka soon, even if he has friends in high places.”

“Hell! Do you think they will investigate him?”

“I’m sure of it. They’ll want to know whether he merely hands out Dissidence, or actually produces it, which would be much more serious.”

“Will they search his flat?”

“They would be remiss if they didn’t. Why—what will they find there?”

She looked around, but no one was near. All the same she lowered her voice. “The typewriter on which Dissidence is written.”

“Then I’m glad that Vasili isn’t your boyfriend, because he’s going to spend the next twenty-five years in Siberia.”

“Don’t say that!”

Dimka frowned. “You’re not in love with him, I can tell . . . but you’re not wholly indifferent to him, either.”

“Look, he’s a brave man, and a wonderful poet, but our relationship is not a romance. I’ve never even kissed him. He’s one of those men who has to have lots of different women.”

“Like my friend Valentin.” Dimka’s roommate at university, Valentin Lebedev, had been a real Lothario.

“Exactly like Valentin, yes.”

“So . . . how much do you care if they search Vasili’s apartment and find this typewriter?”

“A lot. We produced Dissidence together. I wrote today’s edition.”

“Shit. I was afraid of that.” Now Dimka knew the secret she had been keeping from him for the past year.

Tanya said: “We have to go to the apartment, now, and take that typewriter and get rid of it.”

Dimka took a step back from her. “Absolutely not. Forget it.”

“We must!”

“No. I’d risk anything for you, and I might risk a lot for someone you loved, but I’m not going to stick my neck out for this guy. We could all end up in fucking Siberia.”

“I’ll do it on my own, then.”

Dimka frowned, trying to evaluate the risks of different actions. “Who else knows about you and Vasili?”

“No one. We were careful. I made sure I wasn’t followed when I went to his place. We never met in public.”

“So the KGB investigation will not link you to him.”

She hesitated, and at that point he knew they were in deep trouble.

“What?” he said.

“It depends how thorough the KGB are.”

“Why?”

“This morning, when I went to Vasili’s flat, there was a girl there—Varvara.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“She was just going out. She doesn’t know my name.”

“But, if the KGB show her photographs of people arrested at Mayakovsky Square today, will she pick you out?”

Tanya looked distraught. “She gave me a real up-and-down look, assuming I might be a rival. Yes, she would know my face again.”

“Oh, God, then we have to get the typewriter. Without that, they’ll think Vasili is no more than a distributor of Dissidence, so they probably won’t track down his every casual girlfriend, especially as there seem to be a lot. You may get away with it. But if they find the typewriter, you’re finished.”