Rasputin's Revenge (34 page)

Quite a long time passed. Neither of them said a word. I fancied I could almost hear the workings of Auguste’s brain trying to assimilate this new knowledge, to somehow fit it into his understanding of what had made both him and his father the persons they had become.

Finally, the chair moved and Auguste rose. “Thank you for telling me that,” he said. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

After the door closed and his footsteps had receded, Holmes’ match flared again. The wind battered the window. Eventually exhaustion overcame me and I slept.

21

[
KREMLIN FILE NO. JG
0665–4853;
PSS ACCESS, CLASSIFIED
]

15/12/17       

Winter Palace

The Grand Duchess Anastasia

Tsarkoye Selo

Dear Aunt Annie:

I don’t know who else I can turn to. My mother seems more and more under the power of Rasputin and my father has gone off to Spala. You and Uncle Nicky have always told me that I could come to you if I needed help, and that time has come.

All that I request here must remain strictly between us. The gravest issues of state—in fact, the very future of the Russia we know and love—may be at stake, and I must count on your most complete discretion.

I know that Uncle Nicky has always been the most popular general in the army. Even my father holds him in awe, and though other less loyal subjects have misinterpreted their relationship, I know that the bond between them remains strong and that both you and he remain loyal to the Czar.

I am in a position where I have to act, and I need to call on the loyalty and love that both you and Uncle Nicky have for the crown. Forgive me if I sound melodramatic and overly vague, but
there have been developments over which I’ve had no control that justify what I’m doing.

Briefly, my request is that you use your and your husband’s influence (but under no circumstances my name) to request several generals and citizens who remain here in St. Petersburg to gather tomorrow morning, the 16th, at 9:00
A.M
at the French Embassy. If it is within your power, please also try to assemble some of the ranking elite of the Duma, and others whom you think, collectively, might be able to effectively testify before my mother on a most urgent matter of state.

I recognize that your actions, if viewed in the wrong light, might be construed as a conspiracy—even one that I have arranged—but I must ask you to trust me. I assure you that I am acting in good faith, that I will personally guarantee your safety and that of those you invite, and that someone else who you trust is another party to all of this.

Please, Aunty, I implore you. My father’s reign is at stake! You must act quickly and decisively!

You may send the messenger back to me with your response if you feel you must decline. Otherwise, if I don’t hear from you, I will assume you are in my camp.

Praying that God will smile upon your endeavors in this cause, I remain your loyal friend,

Alexis Nicholaevitch

[
KREMLIN FILE NO. JG
0665–4059;
PSS ACCESS, OPEN
]

The Winter Palace

St. Petersburg      

16/12/17              

Elena Ripley
20, 63-64 Gorokhavaya Street
St. Petersburg

Dear Miss Ripley:

Just a short note to thank you for your warning last night. I remain unmolested and so far today there is no sign of the fugitives. I have taken the precaution, however, of keeping my room off limits to all staff, and I’ve even instructed Derevenko to stand guard at the entrance to my wing when I am within. Thus, I
feel certain that I am safe from kidnapping, and I extend to you my gratitude for your loyalty and concern.

I wonder if I might ask you to call on me tomorrow morning before you report to my sisters for their tutoring. There is a matter of some urgency that I would like to discuss with you, and I’ve instructed Derevenko to admit you.

Please give my best to our Friend. I know we have had disagreements recently, but my mother has asked me to forgive and forget, and I have decided to obey her. When this immediate danger has passed and the fugitives are caught, I will once again join the family and our Friend for evening prayers.

Hoping to see you tomorrow, I am

Alexis Romanov

[
KREMLIN FILE NO. JG
0665–4071;
PSS ACCESS, OPEN
]

    Dear Maurice:

Please accept the authenticity of Alexis Romanov’s letterhead as evidence that we are safe and working for the Allied cause. For obvious reasons, I will not sign this note.

Tomorrow morning I must ask you to be prepared for some very unorthodox events. Several generals, Grand Dukes, members of the Duma, and other citizens are being summoned by Grand Duchess Anastasia to your Embassy. Shortly after their arrival, we will join you with a kidnap victim.

You will be harboring three fugitives and will be an accessory to the kidnapping. If you wish to absent yourself, I would not blame you, but I think you should be in attendance. In the best of circumstances, there will be a role for you to play, although we cannot predict the exact course events will follow.

I must stress that the entire War could hinge upon our success tomorrow. The hopes of all of France ride on your shoulders.

22

[
KREMLIN FILE NO. JG
0665–4075–4087;
PSS ACCESS, CLASSIFIED
]

M
aurice has requested a formal report, and I am only too glad to supply it. After the past days’ events, I am grateful for an afternoon in a warm room, a snifter of cognac by my side, a ream of foolscap and a quill with a sharp nib. Most of all, I am grateful to be alive.

Lupa and I stood behind the door in Alexis’ bedroom as Elena was shown into the suite in which we’d passed the previous night. When I saw her through the crack in the door, and in spite of all we’d surmised about her since our escape, I nearly couldn’t go through with it. Her face, even with the abrasions she’d suffered (at Rasputin’s hand?) was more beautiful than ever, her body fuller, somehow more womanly than I had recalled.

My heart went out to her. Could she be a murderer? It was unthinkable! I don’t know what strength—or weakness—kept me in my hiding place behind the door.

She greeted Alexis, and when he introduced her to Holmes, she backed up a step.

“Sherlock Holmes?” she repeated.

Holmes nodded. “You know me, Madam?”

“Of course I know of you. I’m British, after all.” She turned, smiling. “And you must be Dr. Watson.”

Watson stuttered out a hello. His reaction to Elena was similar to the one I’d had.

Alexis played his part wonderfully. Holmes was here, he explained, as an emissary of King George, with a mission very much like my own, related to the Eastern Front.

Holmes had arrived (Alexis said) only two days before, and had just missed seeing the Czar before he’d gone to Spala for a week. It made little sense to follow Nicholas there since he was only staying at headquarters for a few days before returning, so Holmes had chosen to pass his time reviewing the Lupa affair and the Palace murders.

Holmes smiled thinly. “After all, crime is a bit of a hobby of mine.”

As Elena had figured so prominently in the investigation, he had prevailed on Alexis to be introduced to her so that he could get her impressions.

She shook her head. “It’s so sad,” she said. “All those people killed. And now, since the escape, I’ve been scared to death myself.”

“Oh?” Holmes said. “I’d understood that you were on friendly terms with the Frenchman. Surely he’s no danger to you.”

“I don’t know, Mr. Holmes. I think that’s been somewhat overplayed. We spoke occasionally, that’s all.”

That wound cut deep. It was the first time I had caught her in a lie, and, if anything, Lupa had underestimated her skill as an actress.

Watson looked at his watch. “It’s time, Holmes,” he said.

Elena looked at them questioningly.

“Would you mind accompanying us?” he asked in his blandest tone. “We have an appointment with the French ambassador on this very topic. We can talk on the way over.”

Watson kept his hand in his greatcoat pocket, ready to persuade her with a gun if necessary, but Elena accepted Holmes’ explanation, and the three of them left Alexis’ chambers, talking casually of London’s wartime theater.

There was no danger in Holmes’ appearance on the streets of St. Petersburg since as the radical Sigerson he’d been an unwashed, stubble-cheeked musician. Lupa and I, however, would be recognizable to any number of people, and to be caught would mean death. I don’t think either of us forgot for a moment that only the day before we were to be shot at dawn. That knowledge lent a great deal of piquancy to our actions.

Alexis was puffed up with pride when he came back to his bedroom. “How did I do?” he asked.

“Satisfactory,” Lupa said.

At the boy’s slight frown, I added, “That’s the highest praise he can give. I thought you were wonderful.”

“Yes,” Lupa concurred, a trace of a smile showing, “very satisfactory. But now we have to go.”

On some pretense or another, Alexis had obtained uniforms of the Russian navy from Derevenko, and Lupa and I had them on over our suits. Lupa’s weight loss would make him hard to identify, but I felt safer with an eye patch and bandage on my jaw. Lupa limped, leaning heavily on a cane. Alexis saw that the hallway was clear, and then joined us as we walked through it to the gate.

After that, we were on our own. In the event, we sensed the stares of passing townspeople on the streets, but in the new snowstorm, no one stopped us, and we pulled it off.