The rot had set in, early on as a matter of fact, when O
'Reilly had insisted upon at every meal time, on eating the crust of the 'Black Loaf'. Rustaveli found the Scouser's lack of, 'Breeding' and 'Good Manners' all the more infuriating; especially when O'Reilly kept on shouting, and this happened at every meal, 'Fairst on the Croost!' The others in the hostel were amused by the antics of the Liverpudlian, and realising that the behaviour of the Englishman, or Irishman, as he preferred it to be known, only served to further incense the conservative Rustaveli feelings. So, unbeknownst to the pair of them, the other Georgians derived great pleasure from egging on 'The 'Scouser' to go even further.
So as he began to plot, much to his disdain, the jovial O
'Reilly's star continued to rise. So as the Irishman's star rose on up through the ranks of 'The Kevshors', the demented Rustaveli carried on with his fruitless machinations. But as time went by, the further away O'Reilly's trajectory took him, that is to say further away from the embittered Rustaveli. Aslan resolved that something needed to be done and it needed to be done right now. But he could not think of anything, every time he thought of something, he couldn't remember it, or because his mind suddenly would draw a blank. That was until, in a new 'Living Space', he struck up a friendship with a barefoot Estonian called Toomas.
The new,
'new', friend, was just as deranged as he was. In fact he made Rustaveli look almost sane by comparison. Night after night, the pair of them, lost to the world in their drunken stupors, would rave on about the harsh injustices of life. Toomas would go on about how a friend had stolen his only pair of boots. The other would go on about Royston O'Reilly stealing his 'rightful' destiny.
Each proved to be
the foil for the other, Aslan Rustaveli warmed to his, 'new' best friend, he slowly got it into his head that fate had thrown the two of them together. As far as his twisted mind was concerned there could be no other explanation to their meeting. So he reasoned that, if their destinies were to be entwined, then there could be no other rational explanation, other than, the two of them were there to help the other one out. It didn't take much convincing, only a pair of boots, to get the Estonian Toomas onboard; as a result the two of them became, as they say, 'Fast Buddies!'
The plan was straightforward
- they would find O'Reilly and kill him. The Estonian would have his boots and the Georgian would have his rightfull 'Kevshor' destiny returned to him.
O
'Reilly on the other hand, even though he went through the motions with Rustaveli whenever he saw him, had never really liked or trusted the Georgian let alone the 'New' new best friend; but in a city where friendship was in short supply, 'The Scouser', felt that any form of companionship, even Rustaveli's, was preferable to the loneliness and isolation etched into the faces of the locals. Besides, he didn't want to make too many waves. So much for 'World Socialism', meagre rations and no money, he thought. Crime paid a whole lot better!
For Rustaveli an insurmountable blow to his meticulous planning happ
ened. Whilst he had spent hours scheming and plotting with the Estonian, he found that for all of his painstaking work it was getting him, absolutely, nowhere, O'Reilly had been given other duties and, as a consequence, he had been moved to another part of the city. It was an obstacle, not too disastrous, as he felt, given the circumstances; he would go back to the drawing board. Nevertheless he was determined to carry on, kill O'Reilly and give the 'Scousers' boots to his Estonian friend.
Albeit, it had came as a bit of a shock for Royston to find out that his former associate was now making
'menacing' enquiries as to his whereabouts. He had known for a month or two, that the others always gave Rustaveli short shrift. Indeed he had even seen Kevshor colleagues, make, 'loop the loop' gestures behind Rustaveli's back when the Georgian wasn't looking.
But he
had never been one to judge a book by its cover; he always liked to judge on merit, especially that is, if they had anything worth stealing; Royston O'Reilly soon came around to, and agreed with, what everybody else was saying and thinking about Aslan. It was a simple fact; the man was, in his estimation, 'a couple of bricks short of a full load'. In short he was trouble. Rustaveli was simply the kind of guy you did not want to get in an argument with. O'Reilly put it this way, if you were in a drinking school, or any other kind of competition, you let him win, even if you could down the measures faster, or answer the question, you still let him win.
So it came as quite a relief to them all, and to
'The Scouser', when fate stepped into solve the problem. Toomas, on the promise of a new pair of boots disappeared and the 'Luckless' Aslan was 'pressed' into service and drafted away to the front. Without placing to finer a point on it, the problem, as they all saw it, had kind of solved itself.
As the summer moved towards autumn; O
'Reilly, ever thinking about the future, thought and, though his reasons were quite selfish, and not wanting to spend another winter in Moscow; Royston O'Reilly thought he might like to look up his old 'Mucker' Georgii Radetzky. See what he was doing and also see if his friend had thought any more about spiriting him out of this Godforsaken land.
The problem was that his new duties had taken him out of town.
He was responsible for smuggling in and out, contraband for the Moscow markets. One of his chosen routes had been past the Novgorod gate. And it was on one such journey in June that he had seen his erstwhile colleague sitting behind a desk at the checkpoint.
Much to his own relief, his friend and associate had not recognised him.
Indeed it is doubtful whether the paranoid Rustaveli would have even recognised himself; because he had changed almost beyond all recognition. Royston O'Reilly had quite simply 'Georgianised' himself; he had gone, overnight, from 'Scruff' to 'Smart Tuff'. As time went by, he decided to go down to the Nizhny Novgorod gate to make contact with Georgii Radetzky.
Half of the day he stood there queuing in the sweltering he
at. The queue was long and slow. By the time he reached its head the official he wanted to see was not around. Royston was told to step over to one side. After what seemed like an eternity he was ushered into a 'Field' ridge-tent. A tall, attractive woman sat behind a desk.
'
What do you want,' the woman said.
'
I'm making enquiries after the whereabouts of one Georgii Radetzky. I was told he was the commandant of this outpost.'
'
He has been relieved of his duties, because he has the fever,' she replied.
'
Is there any way that I can get this message through to him?' O'Reilly said.
'
I know him Royston, you can give it to me,' Yulia said. O'Reilly slightly taken aback, bowed and started to exit the tent. She called over to him in perfect English, 'When he's better he will contact you. Don't worry, he's told me all about you ... and by the way he did know that you were in and out of the city!'
'
Bastard', O'Reilly thought to himself. So the wily old fox did know after all. It wasn't long before contact was made. He was at the large night market down by the railway marshalling yard when two children came up to him. The girl, Anna, thrust a note into his hand. Next morning, when he got back to the Kevshor hostel, he opened the small envelope and read it. Instantly he recognised the writer's articulate hand.
Royston,
Meet me tonight!
A Friend
The meeting down by the river was to the point. Radetzky told him what he was to do. They would meet again the following day at three.
Elsewhere Comrade Radetzky was feeling pleased with himself, he picked up the two folders.
The third one was now safely hidden away. He anticipated that 'The Boss', as those close to the Georgian referred to him, would be pleased with his labours. He set off for the Kremlin.
Chapter Twenty Nine
Instinct, as Joseph Stalin well knew, was the key to it all, especially when it came to dealing with
his
people. Instinct was something that you could not quite put your finger upon, but that was not of any great importance now, because instinct was telling him something quite different about this young man. He could instinctively feel that a self evident truth was about to emerge; of course God, in heaven, was always there to guide him, but there was something quite different about Georgii Radetzky this morning. He cast those thoughts aside and looked away from the two files neatly laid out on his desk. Stalin looked at them and then at Radetzky.
'
Good work Radetzky. Good work,' the Georgian said. He looked across at the young man standing on the other side of the desk. 'Return to your office and await further instruction. I'll call you when I need you.'
'
But I've got nothing to do,' Georgii said.
'
Don't worry something will come up. Besides I need you on standby,' the Commissar for The Nationalities said.
As soon as Radetzky was gone,
'The Georgian' opened the top draw of his desk. He pulled out a set of keys and put them in his pocket. Waiting for a few minutes until he was sure Radetzky was out of earshot, he went outside and told his secretary that under no circumstances was he to be disturbed. He re-entered his office and locked the door from the inside. He sat behind his desk and read the first file. Most of its contents were known to him. It had been written by the late Yakov Sverdlov.
A
n hour, and an ounce of tobacco later, Joseph Stalin started to read the second file. As well he knew, this was the one which was going to make the best read. He emptied his pipe, refilled it and then lit it up. He started to read it:
Vladimir Iilyvich,
On your instructions, I have carried out a series of wide ranging and comprehensive enquiries into the activities of Joseph Stalin, nee Djugashvilli.
My enquiries were conducted over a period of time, from August Nineteen Eighteen to January Nineteen Nineteen. Many people were interviewed, but our investigations concluded that the accused was innocent of any wrongdoing.
In light of these e
nquiries, it became clear to me and the other associate working for me, Comrade Goldstein, that Comrade Stalin was innocent from any of the allegations that had been levelled towards him. Those being: Black-Marketeering; Subverting Party policy. Indeed, during the course of our enquiries, a picture of a conscientious and dedicated 'Comrade' totally dedicated to the cause of 'World Socialism' began to emerge.
Those interviewed were close
'Party' associates, colleagues and family friends. All we could find out about him was, yes, he was head strong and determined, but when was that ever a crime! It is fair to say that my investigation totally exonerates Comrade Stalin of any wrong doings whatsoever. It is my pleasure to conclude that Stalin is innocent; therefore we can clear him of any suspicion of 'Foul Play'.
Unfortunately, I wish I could say the same for Lev Trotsky and his associate, former Okhrana agent Auguste Gerhardt.
It would seem that these two, have been involved in a smear campaign aimed at denigrating the good name of Joseph Stalin. But it would also appear, that these two men's activities do not stop there. My investigations conclusively unearthed that these two men are no more than a couple of rogues who will not be content until they have submitted the party to their will.
It turns out that Trotsky and Gerhardt are no more than a couple of modern day
'Decembrists' who will never be happy until they have removed all opposition to their perfidious plans. That opposition is to yourself, Comrade Stalin, and several others.
During the course of my investigations, I was able to conclude that, even though Comrade Stalin was innocent, he was no more than a pawn in their treacherous game.
It soon became clear that Gerhardt and Trotsky were aided by others keen to see you removed. They are, Bukharin; Zinoviev, Kamenev and Dzerzhinsky. But, due to the nature and focus of the enquiry, time could not be expended on them or their associates. But it is believed that even though they may have been contacted by them, I cannot ascertain the level of their involvement in the conspiracy. But one thing is clear, that a secret faction is emerging within the main caucus of the Bolshevik party. It also became clear that the sole purpose of their conspiracy was to sew fear and paranoia within the upper rank of The Party. Singling out Stalin was quite ingenious on their part. Once he had been removed, they could start on other 'Loyal' supporters. Their 'Modus Operandi' was that fear and suspicion of one another would paralyse the workings of 'The Central Committee'. I deduce that with the Committee members constantly looking over their shoulders, they would up the ante by framing others, as they had framed Stalin. Thus the whole central workings of government would find themselves unworkable. This situation could only benefit our enemies. However, I could find no evidence that they had made contact with 'The Whites'. It seems that regime change is their sole aim.
But as I have previously mentioned, and due to the meagr
e resources available to myself and my team of one, the purpose of the investigation was to prove whether comrade Stalin was guilty or innocent. As investigations carried on, it became all too clear that the investigation needed to be wound up. In my experience, the longer an investigation goes on; the more the likely that those you are investigating will get wind of it!