Funeral in Berlin Page #2

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In England, roses are out, weeds are in.

- Is that all?

- That is all.

- I want comfort and security.

- You've got that in Russia now.

In Russia, there is no place for an old

Bolshevik. I've made many enemies.

What about your family?

My wife died in a German air raid in 1941.

My only son hasn't written

to me in three years.

- What would you do?

- I'd stop telling lies, for a start.

You have no son and your wife is

in Kiev with your daughter Katya.

I know everything about you. From

the size of your refrigerator

to the cubic capacity of your mistress.

You haven't brought me here

just to tell a sob story.

Let's stop quarreling, English.

- Do you play chess?

- Yes.

But I prefer a game with

more chance of cheating.

I like you, English. You're not

as stupid as you look.

I wanted to see how well you were trained.

- Train hard, fight easy.

- You quote Marshal Suvorov. Bravo!

But my offer is perfectly serious.

My wall has been penetrated too

many times in the last year.

And last week, when a piano player

flew over in a bucket...

- That's too much!

- You mean politically or musically?

I did not arrest you for a joke, English.

I must go, and soon.

Of all people, you should know a way

of crossing the Wall.

My department is being investigated.

I'm being watched!

When the axe falls, there's

no use pleading not guilty!

For you it is a propaganda victory.

My name is worth a headline!

We get plenty of Russians. It's

a pity you're not Chinese.

Will you cooperate?

Information?

Yes, but there are limits. I'm not a traitor.

I'm still a good Communist.

If you won't have me, I'll

go to the Americans.

Why don't you go to the Americans?

They have more money.

Who wants to live in America? They are

just Russians in pressed trousers!

Revolutionaries gone decadent!

Alright, I'll make my report to London.

I'll tell them that you talk well

and lie badly.

- One thing more.

- Yes?

I must have a foolproof method

of escape. Foolproof.

Organized by a professional,

like Otto Kreutzman.

He's organized all the most

important escapes.

He's responsible for my troubles.

Now let him get me out.

Good afternoon, Colonel.

I've instructed the guards

to escort you back.

- Worried about me?

- Not much. Where have you been?

Playing chess.

Monica, this is Edmund Dorf.

He's English.

I like England.

England likes you.

- She has a friend.

- Several, I should think.

- Bitte, mein Herr?

- No, Lwenbru, please.

The Wall doesn't seem to

have hurt business at all.

We're doing alright. See the man

in the plaid jacket?

He sells escape stories to editors

in the Middle West.

The guy with his head in his hands imports

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