I Chose Freedom by Kravchenko Victor;

Author:Kravchenko, Victor;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hauraki Publishing
Published: 2016-07-19T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XVII—TORTURE AFTER MIDNIGHT

MY HEART sank within me when I recognized Gershgorn’s voice on the telephone.

“Well, well, so the little bird’s returned from its long journey....I hope you like the new quarters at the hotel....Come to see me at midnight!”

As usual I had to wait for him. It had been the first day in my new post as head of the Technical Division of the factory. I had worked long and late and had been on my feet most of the time. The emotional strain of my degradation, and of the eviction from my house, had taken more out of me than the physical effort. In any case, I was exhausted, despondent, half-dizzy when Gershgorn finally let me into his office.

“Well, Kravchenko,” he smiled wryly, “I hope you’ve had a profitable trip. We don’t like having our investigations interrupted in this way.”

“I had the necessary permissions,” I said.

“I know, I know. And I gather you went to find ‘protection’—through people like Ivanchenko and Margolin, eh? Now, alas, both of them are under arrest as enemies of the people!”

“It’s true, Comrade Gershgorn, I wanted help from Ivanchenko. And why not? He had been my superior for a number of years and a member of the government. As for Margolin, he happened to be the Party Secretary for the Region at the moment. After all, I wasn’t the one who appointed them to these posts.”

“Of course you weren’t. But an amazing coincidence—all your friends and patrons turn out to be traitors! Filline, Margolin, Ivanchenko, so many others. Tell me, how does it happen that Margolin wrote a favorable letter about you to the City Committee? An old friend of yours, no doubt.”

“I saw the man only once in my life, that day in his office.”

“I’m not so sure of that....But let that rest for the moment. I’m more interested in the dirty saboteur Ivanchenko. You’ve known the traitor for a long time—”

“Yes, but I didn’t know him as a traitor.”

“You never observed any acts of wrecking and sabotage on his part, working so close to him, being so friendly with him?”

“No, never.”

“What can you tell me about his work insofar as it touched on the pipe-rolling industry?”

I recounted all I knew, what the whole country knew. Gershgorn’s fat, glistening face now wore an angry grimace. His thick sausage-like fingers—I noticed how carefully they were manicured—drummed impatiently on the desk.

“Kravchenko, quit being funny. You know this isn’t the information I need.”

“It’s the only information I have.”

“I think we can help you remember a lot more before we’re through ‘training’ you. We’ve had stubborn customers like you before. Now what do you know about Ivanchenko’s relations with Kabakov?”

“Kabakov until his arrest was Party Secretary in the Urals and a member of the Central Committee of the Party. Naturally Ivanchenko had to see him often. But I know of nothing special or unusual.”

“In other words, you won’t talk.”

“I’d gladly talk, but surely you don’t expect me to invent information.”

The new day was visible through the window, but Gershgorn, louder and more insulting as he grew more tired, was still hammering at me.

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