“Window or aisle?”

“Window, please.”

“Six A,” she said, handing him a ticket.

It amused Harry that he would be flying back in the same seat he’d occupied for the incoming flight.

“Do you have any luggage to check in, sir?”

“No, just this,” he said, holding up his bag.

“The flight is due to take off shortly, sir, so it might be wise to make your way through to customs.”

Harry wondered how many times a day she delivered that particular line. He was happy to obey her suggestion and, as he passed a bank of telephones, his thoughts turned to Emma and Mrs. Babakov, but he would have to wait until he was back in London before he could tell them the news.

He was only a couple of strides away from passport control when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. He turned to find two heavily built young policemen standing on either side of him.

“Would you come with me,” said one of the officers, confident that Harry spoke Russian.

“Why?” asked Harry. “I’m on my way back to London and I don’t want to miss my flight.”

“We just need to check your bag. If there are no irregularities, you’ll have more than enough time to catch your flight.”

Harry prayed they were looking for drugs, cash, or contraband, as they gripped him firmly by the arm and led him away. He considered making a dash for it. Perhaps twenty years ago …

The policemen stopped outside an unmarked door, unlocked it, and shoved Harry inside. The door slammed behind him and he heard a key turning in the lock. He looked around the room. A small table, two chairs, and no windows. Nothing on the walls other than a large black and white photograph of Comrade Brezhnev, chairman of the party.

Moments later, he heard the key turning in the lock again. Harry already had half a story prepared about having come to St. Petersburg to visit the Hermitage. The door opened and a man entered. The sight of this tall, elegantly dressed officer caused Harry to feel apprehensive for the first time. He was wearing a dark green uniform with three gold stars on his epaulets and too many medals on his chest to suggest that he might be easily intimidated. Two very different men followed him in, whose appearance seemed to disprove Darwin’s theory of evolution.

“Mr. Clifton, my name is Colonel Marinkin and I am the officer in charge of this investigation. Please open your bag.” Harry unzipped the bag and stood back. “Place all the contents on the table.”

Harry took out his wash bag, a pair of pants, a pair of socks, a cream shirt, just in case he had to stay overnight, and three books. The colonel only seemed interested in the books, which he studied for a few moments before placing two of them back on the table.