The major tutted loudly and rolled his eyes in exasperation. Outside our carriage, the stationmaster blew his whistle and the locomotive expelled a loud cloud of steam. “Where are you going with this conversation?”

“Don’t you get it? He’s an assassin. I wouldn’t mind betting that Comrade General Mielke has placed him on this train to kill all three of us.”

The train started to move.

“Ridiculous,” said Weltz. “Look, if this is the beginning of an attempt at escape, it’s a pretty clumsy one. Everyone knows that those Poles were murdered by the fascists.”

“You mean everyone except everyone in Poland,” I said. “There’s not much doubt there who was responsible. But if you don’t believe that, then maybe you’ll believe this: Mielke’s already screwed you in the ass, Major. He gave me a gun that I’m supposed to use to help make my escape. But my bet is that the gun isn’t going to work.”

“Why would the comrade general do such a thing?” asked Weltz, shaking his head. “It makes absolutely no sense.”

“It makes a lot of sense if you know Mielke as well as I do. I think he wants me dead because of what I could tell you about him. And he probably wants you both dead in case I already have.”

“It couldn’t hurt to see if he’s telling the truth about the gun, sir,” said Lieutenant Rascher.

“All right. Stand up, Gunther.”

Staying exactly where I was, I glanced quickly at the Russian sergeant. He had a large Stalin-size mustache and one continuous matching eyebrow; the nose was round and red, almost comical-looking; the ears had more hair on and in them than a wild pig’s.

“If you search me, Major, the Ivan will figure something’s wrong and draw his gun. And it will be too late for us all when he’s done that.”

“What if Gunther’s right, sir?” said Lieutenant Rascher. “We don’t know anything about this fellow.”

“I gave you an order, Gunther. Now do as you’re told.”

The major was already unbuttoning the flap on his holstered Nagant. There was no telling if he was about to pull the gun on me or the MVD starshina, but the Ivan saw it and then met my eye, and when he met my eye he saw what I had seen in his—something lethal. He reached for his own pistol, and this prompted Lieutenant Rascher to abandon the idea of searching me and fumble for his own gun.