“Yes. One of our senior operatives monitored his daily activities and reported that the defendant had enrolled for a Russian language course at Bristol University, not far from where he lives. One of my agents signed up for the same course and reported that the accused was a conscientious student, who studied far harder than any of his classmates. Shortly after he’d completed the course, he flew to Leningrad, just weeks before his visa expired.”

“Why didn’t you arrest him immediately he arrived in Leningrad and put him on the next plane back to London?”

“Because I wanted to discover if he had any associates in Russia.”

“And did he?”

“No, the man’s a loner, a romantic, someone who would have been more at home in ancient times when, like Jason, he would have gone in search of the Golden Fleece, which, for him in the twentieth century, was Babakov’s equally fictitious story.”

“And was he successful?”

“Yes, he was. Babakov’s wife had evidently told him exactly where he could find a copy of her husband’s book, because no sooner had he arrived in Leningrad than he took a taxi to the Pushkin antiquarian bookshop on the outskirts of the city. It took him only a few minutes to locate the book he was looking for, which was concealed inside the dust jacket of another title, and must have been exactly where Mrs. Babakov had told him it would be. He paid for the book and two others, then instructed the waiting taxi to take him back to the airport.”

“Where you arrested him?”

“Yes, but not immediately, because I wanted to see if he had an accomplice at the airport he would try to pass the book on to. But he simply bought a ticket for the same plane he had flown in on. We arrested him just before he attempted to board it.”

“Where is the book now?” asked the president of the tribunal.

“It has been destroyed, comrade chairman, but I have retained the title page for the records. It may interest the court to know that it appears to have been a printer’s proof, so it was possibly the last copy in existence.”

“When you arrested the defendant, how did he react?” asked the prosecutor.

“He clearly didn’t realize the severity of his crime because he kept asking on what charge he was being held.”

“Did you interview the taxi driver?” asked the prosecutor, “and the elderly woman who worked in the bookshop, to see if they were in league with the defendant?”

“Yes, I did. Both turned out to be card-carrying members of the party, and it quickly became clear they had no earlier association with the defendant. I released them after a short interview, as I felt the less they knew about my inquiries the better.”