Aleksandra sat tiredly in front of a sheet of paper lying on her desk. She had taken off her shoes. What should she write in the report about today? She looked at the half-written sheet, which bore the date of yesterday. What had struck her about the strange guest? He had carried his luggage himself and had not waited for it to be brought to him by one of the railway employees. Or was he just afraid it would be searched? Or did he not want her, as the hostess, to carry his luggage just because she was a woman?
This man was difficult to judge. His interaction with the interpreter was also interesting. Of course, Aleksandra also knew Shakhlikov's accounts of the first meeting in Lviv and the entire trip, even the casual card game. Either this man was a paragon of modesty and kindness, or he was an extremely cunning agent pursuing his mission of information gathering behind a façade of naivety.
But his astonishment at his accommodation could not have been an act after all. Aleksandra had shown him the suite at the Moskva Hotel, which she herself had admittedly been impressed by: a spacious reception room with a cloakroom, a dining room, a study with a typewriter and a small selection of German-language books that had been quickly procured from the Thuringian Embassy, a large bedroom and a modernly equipped bathroom. A lockable door led through a small corridor to Shakhlikov's accommodation, which consisted of a study, a bedroom and a small bathroom.
Of course, this accommodation had not been chosen out of appreciation. General Shelepin had agreed that it would be better for the time being if Johann took his meals in his room. Should he also work there, which was necessary at least for appearances' sake, there would have to be a study. And it went without saying that Shakhlikov would be watching over him at all times. At the latest, if Johann tried to open the door to his flat, he would find out that he couldn't. Even trying to make a phone call would be impossible. Even an attempt to telephone would be diverted to Shakhlikov's machine. The priest took the explanation that all this was for his protection rather calmly. Too calm? Was he prepared to get himself out of the flat? Well, his reaction to the accommodation was first genuine amazement at the size and generosity of the rooms. When Aleksandra's tour was over, he had paid her a special compliment on the tasteful wall decorations, which showed contemporary Soviet architecture in black and white photographs. Had he really liked it, or was he trying to win the confidence of a female architect by this clever remark?
Aleksandra took a sip of her tea, which was starting to get cold, and simply noted down the order of events for today with precise timings: the joint lunch and the boat tour, the walk, during which they also passed several parades, finally the big fireworks display at 21h00. They had been so engrossed in conversation that they had completely forgotten about dinner. He had asked questions about the history of the city, the architecture of the Russian churches and the Kremlin, about the idea of holding a Labour Festival and about many other things that seemed to seriously interest him; and which at the same time were completely irrelevant from a security point of view. Aleksandra concluded her report with, "Is either a good spy or a good person despite his office, further observations needed."
