William Ryan: The Holy Thief

“Perhaps,” Schwartz said, and then Korolev was closing the door behind himself as he left.

He took his time walking back, rehearsing what he’d say when he arrived. He had it all worked out by the time he opened the door and saw Valentina Nikolaevna standing by the table, as if she was waiting for him, and so he came straight to the point.

“Valentina Nikolaevna, I’ve thought it over. I can’t forgive myself for being the cause of those men coming into your home, and for what happened here. I’ve decided the best thing will be if I leave this apartment. I can stay with my cousin and I’ll say nothing to Luborov or anyone else. You’ll have the whole place to yourself, if I’m still down as living here. It’s not enough, I know it, but it’s something at least.”

She considered him for a time and then shook her head.

“Thank you for your offer, Alexei Dmitriyevich. It’s kind of you, but unnecessary. It wasn’t you that brought the men here, they came themselves. You’re not responsible for the evil of others.”

“But-” he began.

“Enough, please. I mean what I say. And anyway, Natasha wouldn’t hear of it. She will only come out to Gorky Park this evening if you’ll be there as well. So, you see? I can’t do without you.”

And then she smiled at him.