Confused but beaming with goodwill, Rodionov waved to Minin while Albov turned to Arkady with the expression of a man who keeps honest score. “We’re friends who are concerned about your well-being. We have every reason to meet you out in the open. So someone is watching a television monitor and wondering whether we’re birdwatchers or amateur historians.”

“I’m afraid Minin won’t pass as either,” Arkady said.

“Not Minin,” Albov agreed.

Rodionov stepped down the road to shoo Minin off.

“Slept?” Albov asked Arkady.

“No.”

“Eaten?”

“No.”

“It’s miserable being on the run.” He sounded sincere. He also sounded in control, as if Rodionov had been allowed to chair the meeting as long as items on the agenda were followed in order. The camera at Stalin’s gate had changed that. Albov held his cigarette to his mouth as he spoke. “The call was clever.”

“Penyagin had your phone number.”

“Then it was obvious.”

“My best ideas are obvious.”

Arkady had also called Borya, as Albov must know by now. The question was implicit: what other phone numbers had Penyagin written down?

When Rodionov returned, Albov lifted the report from the prosecutor’s pocket. “Telegram blanks,” Albov said. “He was at Central Telegraph all night.”

Rodionov glanced at the camera and muttered, “We were covering train stations, known addresses, the streets.”

“Moscow is a big city,” Arkady said in the prosecutor’s defense.

“Did you send any telegrams?” Albov asked Arkady.

“We can find out,” Rodionov pointed out.

“In a day or two,” Arkady agreed.

“He’s threatening us,” the prosecutor said.

Albov said, “With what? That’s the question. If he knows anything about Penyagin, the detective or Rosen, he’s legally bound to inform his superior, who is you, or the investigator of record, who is Minin. Otherwise, he’ll be regarded as a raving maniac. The streets are full of raving maniacs these days, so no one’s going to listen to him. He’s also obligated to follow orders. If you send him to Baku, that’s where he goes. He can stand under this camera all day long. It’s a dead end; there aren’t any floodlights, so you can pick him up tonight and tomorrow he’ll wake up in Baku. Renko, let me tell you something from experience. You don’t stop running until you’ve got something to trade. You have nothing, do you?”

“No,” Arkady admitted. “But I have other plans.”

“What other plans?”

“I was thinking of pursuing the Rosen investigation.”

Rodionov looked down the road. “Minin is in charge of that now.”

“I wouldn’t be in Minin’s way,” Arkady said.

Albov asked, “How could you not be in Minin’s way?”

“I’d be in Munich.”

“Munich?” Albov cocked his head as if a new bird note had issued from the woods. “What would you look for in Munich?”