“During those thirteen years as a school teacher, did you ever visit the Kremlin?”

“No, I did not, sir. Never.”

The vehemence with which Babakov said “Never” was a clear indication to Harry that he regarded this mock trial as worthy only of ridicule. Every Soviet schoolchild had visited the Kremlin at some time to pay homage at Lenin’s tomb. If Babakov had been a schoolmaster he would even have supervised such visits. Harry had no way of letting him know that he’d got the message without breaking the thin shell of deception.

“At any time did you ever meet our revered leader the chairman of the Presidium Council, Comrade Stalin?” continued the state prosecutor.

“Yes, on one occasion when I was a student he visited the Foreign Languages Institute to present the annual state awards.”

“Did he speak to you?”

“Yes, he congratulated me on being awarded my degree.”

Harry knew Babakov had won the Lenin medal and come top of his class. Why didn’t he mention that? Because it wasn’t part of the well-prepared script he had been given, and which he was sticking to. The answers had probably been written by the same person who was asking the questions.

“Other than that brief encounter, did you ever come across Comrade Stalin again?”

“No, sir, never.” Once again, he exaggerated the word “never.”

Harry was beginning to form a plan in his mind. If it was to work, he would have to convince those three stony-faced comrades sitting in judgement that he believed every word Babakov was uttering, and was appalled ever to have been taken in by the man.

“I should now like to move on to 1954, when you attempted to have a book published, in which you claimed that you had worked on the president’s private staff for thirteen years as his personal interpreter, when in fact you had never once entered the Kremlin. What made you think you could possibly get away with such a deception?”

“Because, like me, no one who worked at the Sarkoski Press had ever been inside the Kremlin. They had only seen Comrade Stalin from a distance when he reviewed our troops at the May Day parade. So it wasn’t difficult to convince them that I had been a member of his inner circle.”

Harry shook his head in disgust and frowned at Babakov, hoping he wasn’t overdoing it. He saw the chairman make a note on the pad in front of her. Was there even the suggestion of a smile?

“And is it also true that you planned to defect, in the hope of having your book published in the West, with the sole purpose of making a large sum of money?”