‘May I ask you something, Mikhel?’ Smiley said, selecting a line that was oblique to the main thrust of his enquiry.
‘Please.’
‘That evening when he called here to borrow money from you, did he stay? Did you make him tea? Play a game of chess perhaps? Could you paint it for me a little, please, that evening?’
‘We played chess, but not with concentration. He was preoccupied, Max.’
‘Did he say any more about the big fish?’
The drooped eyes considered Smiley soulfully.
‘Please, Max?’
‘The big fish. The operation he said he was planning. I wondered whether he enlarged upon it in any way.’
‘Nothing. Nothing at all, Max. He was entirely secretive.’
‘Did you have the impression it involved another country?’
‘He spoke only of having no passport. He was wounded – Max I tell you this frankly – he was hurt that the Circus would not trust him with a passport. After such service, such devotion he was hurt.’
‘It was for his own good, Mikhel.’
‘Max, I understand entirely. I am a younger man, a man of the world, flexible. The General was at times impulsive, Max. Steps had to be taken – even by those who admired him – to contain his energies. Please. But for the man himself, it was incomprehensible. An insult.’
From behind him Smiley heard the thud of feet as Elvira stomped contemptuously back to her corner.
‘So who did he think should do his travelling for him?’ Smiley asked, again ignoring her.
‘Villem,’ said Mikhel with obvious disapproval. ‘He does not tell me in as many words but I believe he sends Villem. That was my impression. Villem would go. General Vladimir spoke with much pride of Villem’s youth and honour. Also of his father. He even made an historical reference. He spoke of bringing in the new generation to avenge the injustices of the old. He was very moved.’
‘Where did he send him? Did Vladi give any hint of that?’
‘He does not tell me. He tells me only, “Villem has a passport, he’s a brave boy, a good Balt, steady, he can travel, but it is also necessary to protect him.” I do not probe, Max. I do not pry. That is not my way. You know that.’
‘Still you did form an impression, I suppose,’ Smiley said. ‘The way one does. There are not so many places Villem would be free to go to, after all. Least of all on fifty pounds. There was Villem’s job too, wasn’t there? Not to mention his wife. He couldn’t just step into the blue when he felt like it.’
Mikhel made a very military gesture. Pushing out his lips till his moustache was almost on its back, he tugged shrewdly at his nose with his thumb and forefinger. ‘The General also asked me for maps,’ he said finally. ‘I was in two minds whether to tell you this. You are his vicar, Max, but you are not of our cause. But as I trust you, I shall.’
‘Maps of where?’
‘Street maps.’ He flicked a hand towards the shelves as if ordering them closer. ‘City plans. Of Danzig. Hamburg. Liibeck. Helsinki. The northern seaboard. I asked him, “General, sir. Let me help you,” I said to him. “Please. I am your assistant for everything. I have a right. Vladimir. Let me help you.” He refused me. He wished to be entirely private.’
Moscow Rules, Smiley thought yet again. Many maps and only one of them is relevant. And once again, he noted, towards his trusted Paris adjutant Vladimir was taking measures to obscure his purpose.
‘After which he left?’ he suggested.
‘Correct.’
‘At what time?’
‘It was late.’
‘Can you say how late?’
‘Two. Three. Even four maybe. I am not sure.’
Then Smiley felt Mikhel’s gaze lift fractionally over his shoulder and beyond it and stay there and an instinct which he had lived by for as long as he could remember made him ask : ‘Did Vladimir come here alone?’
‘Of course, Max. Who would he bring?’
They were interrupted by a clank of crockery as Elvira at the other end of the room went clumsily back to her chores. Daring to glance at Mikhel just then, Smiley saw him staring after her with an expression he recognized but for a split second could not place : hopeless and affectionate at once, torn between dependence and disgust. Till, with sickening empathy Smiley found himself looking into his own face as he had glimpsed it too often, red-eyed like Mikhel’s, in Ann’s pretty gilt mirrors in their house in Bywater Street.