“That’s good,” Peter said appreciatively. “That’s very good.”

Arkady laid the shawl on Peter’s knees. Peter sat up straighter. “What are you doing?”

“The cultural atmosphere is a little unsettled in Moscow right now.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You’re the only person I can leave it with,” Arkady said.

“How do you know I won’t disappear with it?”

“There’s a kind of justice in making you a guardian of Russian art. Besides, it’s a trade.” Arkady patted the jacket pocket with the passport and visa that Peter had returned to him and the ticket he had bought with Ali’s money.

There had been no difficulty in getting on the regular Lufthansa flight to Moscow. There was nothing like a military coup at a destination for decimating a passenger list. What Arkady still didn’t understand was why leaders of the new Emergency Committee were allowing planes to land at all.

Stas limped off the Munich flight with a tape recorder and a camera. He was full of perverse good cheer. “Such a glorious idiocy. The Emergency Committee didn’t arrest any of the democratic leaders. Now it’s a standoff. The tanks are in Moscow, but they just keep circling around. Standards for oppression have really dropped.”

“How do you know what’s happening?” Arkady asked.

“People are calling us from Moscow,” Stas said.

Arkady was amazed. “The telephone lines are open?”

“That’s what I mean about idiocy.”

“Does Michael know you’re going?”

“He tried to stop me. He says it’s a security risk and an embarrassment to the station if we’re caught. He says Max called from Moscow to say that it’s business as usual and there’s nothing for me to be so excited about.”

“Does he know Irina’s going?”

“He asked. He doesn’t know.”

Though boarding had started, Arkady dove into a telephone booth. A recorded message on the phone repeated over and over that the international circuits were busy. The only way he could get through was to call continuously. As he was about to give up, he noticed a fax center.

Polina had said she would take Rudy’s fax machine. At the desk, he wrote her telephone number and the message, “Looking forward to seeing you. If you have a painting of Uncle Rudy’s, could you bring it with you? Drive very carefully.” He added his flight number and arrival time and signed the message, “Arkady.” Then he asked for a fax directory and wrote a second message to Federov: “Followed advice. Please inform City Prosecutor Rodionov of return today. Renko.”

The clerk’s eyes opened as wide as a doll’s. “You must be anxious to get home,” she said.

“I’m always anxious when I go home,” Arkady said.

Irina waved him to the gate, where Stas and Peter Schiller were regarding each other like examples of different species.