Chapters (64)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Family Tree
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- I. Harry and Emma 1964–1965
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- II. Lady Virginia Fenwick 1966
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- III. Giles Barrington 1970
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- IV. Sebastian Clifton 1970
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- V. Lady Virginia Fenwick 1970
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- VI. Sebastian Clifton 1970
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- VII. Harry and Emma 1970
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- About the Author
- Also by Jeffrey Archer
- Newsletter Sign-up
While I sat at the back of the endless meetings celebrating Stalin’s achievements, I began to form my own plans for a tiny slice of immortality. The publication of my unauthorized biography. But I would have to wait, possibly for years after Stalin’s death, for the right moment to present itself, before I approached a publisher, a brave publisher, who would be willing to consider taking on Uncle Joe.
What I hadn’t anticipated was just how long Stalin would cling on, and he certainly had no intention of releasing the reins of power before the pallbearers had lowered him into the ground, and more than one or two of his enemies remained silent for several days after his death, just in case he rose again.
A great deal has been written about Stalin’s death. The official communiqué, which I translated for the international press, claimed that he died at his desk in the Kremlin after suffering a stroke, and that was the accepted version for many years. Whereas in truth he was staying at his dacha, and after a drunken dinner with his inner circle, which included Lavrenti Beria, his deputy premier and former secret police chief, Nikita Khrushchev, and Georgy Malenkov, he retired to bed, but not before all his guests had left the dacha.
Beria, Malenkov, and Khrushchev all feared for their lives, because they knew Stalin planned to replace them with younger, more loyal lieutenants. After all, that was exactly how each of them had got his own job in the first place.
The following day, Stalin still hadn’t risen by late afternoon and one of his guards, worried that he might be ill, phoned Beria, who dismissed the man’s fears and told him Stalin was probably just sleeping off a hangover. Another hour passed before the guard called Beria again. This time he summoned Khrushchev and Malenkov and they immediately drove over to the dacha.
Beria gave the order to unlock the door of the room in which Stalin had spent the night, and the three of them tentatively entered, to find him lying on the floor, unconscious but still breathing. Khrushchev bent down to check his pulse, when suddenly a muscle twitched. Stalin stared up at Beria and grabbed him by the arm. Khrushchev fell on his knees, placed his hands around Stalin’s throat, and strangled him. Stalin struggled for a few minutes, while Beria and Malenkov held him down.