Save me, Arkady thought. Save me from myself.

The secret was that Stas did all his eating at breakfast: liver, smoked salmon, potato salad and pots of coffee. He also had the VCR and enormous television of an unmarried man.

With a remote control, Arkady played the videotape. On Fast Forward, the television screen raced through monks, Marienplatz, beer garden, modern traffic, beer hall, swans, opera, Oktoberfest, Alps, beer garden. Stopped. He rewound to the start of the last scene. It was a sun-dappled garden in a wall of honeysuckle tended by bees. Diners sat exhausted by the effort of heavy lunches, all but the woman at one table. He froze the frame where she raised her glass.

“Never seen her before,” Stas said. “What shocks me is that I’ve never been in this beer garden. I thought I’d been in them all.”

The screen came back to life. She raised her glass higher. Blond hair swept back almost ferociously, gold necklace bedded on black cashmere, cat-eyed sunglasses that expressed amusement, red nails and lips that promised in Russian, “I love you.”

Stas shook his head. “I’d remember her.”

“Not at Radio Liberty?” Arkady asked.

“Hardly.”

“Around Tommy?”

“Possibly, but I’ve never met her.”

Arkady tried a different tack. “I’d like to see where Tommy worked.”

“The Red Archive? The next time I try to sign you in, the guards will call Michael. I don’t mind annoying him, but he’ll just tell the guards not to give you a pass.”

“Is Michael always at the station?”

“No. Between eleven and twelve he plays tennis at the club across the street. But he takes his phone everywhere.”

“You’ll be at the station?”

“I’ll be at my desk until noon. I’m a writer. I turn the decline and fall of the Soviet Union into bite-sized words.”

When Stas left, Arkady neatened the couch, washed the dishes and ironed the clothes that Federov had squashed into the bag the day before. His wrist was ringed with bruises, but the skin wasn’t broken; Stas had seen the marks and said nothing. Every step he took, from sofa to sink to ironing board, he was followed by Laika. So far, she found his behavior acceptable.

While he ironed, Arkady ran the tape again. As the camera panned, he realized he might be looking at a restaurant patio rather than a beer garden. There was indoor dining, though the light outside was too intense to see through the windows.