Paul Goldberg - The Yid

Zaytsev didn’t get up when Kogan walked in. When Kogan extended his hand, Zaytsev’s hand remained on the massive, prerevolutionary walnut desk.

Zaytsev drilled Kogan with his wide blue eyes. The two men were about the same age, early fifties, except Zaytsev was pudgy and looked officious in a blue gabardine suit and even a tie. Kogan was in his white coat. He would be returning to work, God willing.

“I will not play games, Sasha,” Zaytsev began. “We have a problem here at Pervaya Gradskaya.”

Kogan knew that when men like Zaytsev promised to refrain from playing games, they were, in fact, starting a game.

The doctor cringed a little after being addressed by his first name. This man wasn’t a friend, and decorum in medicine was important. Such were his manners; everything about Zaytsev was backward.

Zaytsev pointed to a chair, and Kogan settled in.

“A young doctor here, Arkady Kaplan, now deceased, was conducting religious propaganda with an ambulance driver. He said Jesus Christ was a Yid doctor. Were you aware of this?”

“No,” said Kogan.

This was no surprise. They got to Spartak after the stabbing, and with his friend dead, he had no reason to protect Kaplan.

Kogan had no idea precisely what was said in that ambulance, but it had to have been funny. He smiled. Arkashka would have wanted him to.

“What can you tell me about him, Sasha?”

“Nothing to tell, Comrade Zaytsev. I thought he was a talented young doctor. I met him before he enrolled in the medical institute. It was in Stalingrad. He was a medic. I was hoping he would get additional training and become a surgeon.”

“Stalingrad. Medic. Interesting … When he was evacuating the wounded, do you believe he got close to German positions?”

“I presume. This is one of the dangers of the job, being in no-man’s-land.”

“Do you believe that he may have come very close, close enough to get recruited by the Germans?”

“Why would that happen? And how? He was Jewish, by nationality, as you should be able to see in the dossier.”

“Exactly! Who would suspect him? Next question: do you believe Kaplan had the skills required to operate a radio?”

“I don’t know. What makes you ask?”

“I am not at liberty to discuss. The investigation is ongoing. Have you known this man outside work?”

“Well, yes, he was a frequent guest at my apartment.”

“Did he speak German?”

“Yes.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. You know from my dossier, I studied in Berlin.”

“I wanted to hear that from you, man to man. The professors you had in Berlin; were they German?”

“Some were. I ask that you familiarize yourself with my dossier, Comrade Zaytsev. I studied in Germany in 1926 through the end of 1928. I was sent there by the Commissariat for Health. It was official business.”

“And your professors, where are they now?”

“Some died in the war, some in the concentration camps; one practices in London, another, I believe, in America.”

“Where in America?”

“Boston.”

“Where in Boston?”

“Harvard University.”

“Are you in touch with them?”

“No. Not at all.”

“It says in the dossier you have relatives abroad…”

“Yes, I do. My parents left Odessa in 1918, just as I was joining the Red Army.”

“Are they living?”

“I don’t believe they are. Though I have never been informed of their deaths.”

“And you have siblings?”

“My sister was in Denmark, and my brother is in New York.”

“Are you in touch with them?”

“No.”

Of course, Zaytsev knew that maintaining ties with relatives abroad was suicidal. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to have been informed about Aleksandr and Vladimir’s only post-emigration meeting, in Berlin in 1928.

“Do you believe Kaplan would have been capable of a provocation against a Soviet officer?”

“No, why would he do that? He was a decorated veteran of the Great Patriotic War.”

“As I said, the matter is under investigation, I am not at liberty to discuss the details.”

“Well, no, I don’t believe that. If he was with a patient, he would have been focused on discharging his duties as a doctor. I know this because I trained him.”

“Did he have religious, fanatical views that would have prompted him to sacrifice himself in order to dishonor a Soviet officer?”

“Nothing in our interactions would have suggested that, and I am afraid I am unable to speculate. I wouldn’t want to lead you in the wrong direction. What does all of this have to do with me?”

“You were his friend, and he died on your operating table. Your notes from that surgery have been examined thoroughly, and they are too thorough, as though someone is trying to cover tracks.”

“Cover tracks? What tracks?”

“I read that document myself, and I can tell you what I thought: I thought that you killed him, Sasha. The admiral, Admiral Abrikosov, said that Kaplan declined to provide treatment for his mother and kept looking at his watch, causing the admiral, who was grief-stricken, to inflict a superficial wound. Sasha, you are a doctor, can you imagine a doctor refusing to help a dying patient? The ambulance driver confirmed that his wounds were superficial when he arrived in the hospital, and then he ended up on your operating table.”

“What are you saying?”

“That Kaplan’s wound, as described by witnesses, was not as severe as the wound you say he died of. It’s so laughable that we returned the dagger to Admiral Abrikosov, with our sincere apologies.”

“Are you really saying that I killed him?”

“Yes, actually, we are starting to come to this conclusion.”

“I did nothing of the sort. Why would I do that?”

“Because it was a part of your long-standing plan, dating back to Stalingrad.”

“But, Comrade Zaytsev, I remind you again that Dr. Kaplan was of Jewish nationality. The newspapers tell us that Jewish doctors are killing people of Russian nationality. In this, shall we say, hypothesis of yours, why would you think I killed another Jew?”

“Simple! Sometimes you have to kill one of your own, so people won’t think you are killing only Russians.”

“To cover tracks?”

“To cover tracks.”

“I see. So you hypothesize that Kaplan and I were German spies, recruited in Stalingrad?”

“It does look as though you were, when you put all the pieces together. They recruited Kaplan when he was pretending to evacuate the wounded, and he recruited you.”

“Would it be helpful to you if I reminded you that Germans killed millions of Jews, presumably including Dr. Kaplan’s family, plus about forty of my distant cousins? It should be in the dossiers.”

“Yes, and this is exactly what gives you cover.”

“That’s preposterous.”

“And we cannot, at this point, rule out the possibility that other intelligence services were involved.”

“Really? You can’t rule this out? Which ones?”

“America, England, the usual.”

“May I remind you that they were our allies during the war? Why would they be working with the Germans to recruit Dr. Kaplan?”

“Yes, we thought of that. Because even then they could foresee that the wartime alliance was fleeting.”

“So the Americans were in a secret alliance with Germany to recruit a Soviet medic in Stalingrad?”

“And pass on messages to you, from Jewish agencies in New York. And Denmark was collaborating with Germany, I should remind you.”

“Oh my … I don’t even know what to do with Denmark. I am not clear on my sister’s whereabouts, alas, so I can’t help you. What do you think my motivations would be in doing all this?”