The Romanov Conspiracy (75 page)

Sorg knelt beside Anastasia, clasping her hand. “How is she?”

“Still breathing, but I’m betting it won’t be for long,” Boyle said. “Not with half the Red Army encircling us and a train that’s going nowhere.”

Andrev looked at Yakov and said hopelessly, “Well? What now? Will you at least let the women live and honor Kazan’s pledge?”

A sound of marching boots erupted outside.

Andrev looked beyond the window. Dozens of soldiers tramped toward the carriage, led by their commander, his pistol drawn.

Yakov moved over to the table and picked up Boyle’s Colt automatic. “I’m afraid I can promise nothing.”

117

A fist rapped on the carriage door.

Yakov ordered Lydia, “Cover the girl’s face with the blanket.”

“Why?”

“Just do as I say.”

She pulled the blanket over Anastasia.

Yakov held out his hand to Sister Agnes. “Give me the gems.”

The nun handed him the leather pouch.

Another harsh rap came on the door and Yakov opened it. He beckoned the barrack commander and his men inside.

They stepped in warily. The commander took one look at Kazan’s body, and the bodies of Markov and Zoba, and his hand tightened on his weapon. “What’s happened here?” he demanded.

Yakov handed over his letter. “I’m Commissar Yakov. On a mission of special purpose for Comrade Lenin.”

The barrack commander examined the letter, studying its official stamp and signature. Then his gaze swept over everyone in the carriage, and at the figure lying on the cot, covered by a blanket.

He turned to Yakov uncertainly. “Do you mind telling me what’s going on?”

Yakov jerked his head toward the floor. “Remove Inspector Kazan’s body from the train, and the other two. You’ll also find the bodies of a couple of his men farther along the train.”

“Two more dead? I don’t understand—”

“You don’t have to. All you have to do is obey my orders. But if you must know, Kazan was a traitor and criminal. He and his men got their just reward for their crime.”

“What crime?”

Yakov opened the pouch, spilling out a handful of glittering gems. “Attempting to steal Romanov jewels from their rightful owners, the Russian people. Now, unless you want to be associated with Kazan’s crime I’d suggest you do as I say at once.”

“Of—of course, Commissar.”

“I want this locomotive replaced immediately. Any delay, and I’ll have whoever’s responsible shot.”

The barrack commander paled, and Yakov snapped, “What’s keeping you? Let me know the moment the train is ready to depart.”

“Yes, Commissar.” The commander barked at his men and when they had removed the corpses and gone, Yakov refilled the pouch and handed it back to the nun. The others stared at him in disbelief.

Boyle said, “Will someone slap me in case I’m dreaming?”

Yakov said to the medic attending Anastasia, “Well?”

“She seems stable enough, but whether she stays that way is another matter. I could do with an explanation, too.”

Yakov laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. “If I was you, I’d stay with the train, and pray you make it over the border. Look on the bright side: maybe finally you’ll get out of this godforsaken country.”

Sorg said, “I don’t understand you, Yakov.”

“No one’s asking you to. Just get yourselves out of Russia. I presume you have a strategy?”

“Boyle does. He’s an expert on the railway routes.”

Andrev stepped over. “I hate to be a pessimist, Leonid, but as soon as the
komendant
sobers up he may notice there’s a body missing.”

“Leave the
komendant
to me. Once I find out what he does or doesn’t know, I’ll deal with it then. There’s no shortage of corpses in the tunnel, if need be.”

Yakov removed his cigarette case from his breast pocket and held up a box of matches. “A spark to the fuel ought to take care of any loose ends.”

“That’s not going to explain Kazan’s death.”

“Kazan was despised. I caught him stealing. He paid the price, end of story. That’s my version of events and I’ll stick to it.”

He turned to address Sister Agnes. “I’d suggest you get out of here
immediately. Whether the girl lives or dies is beyond any one of us right now, but my medic will do his best.”

Sister Agnes made a sign of the cross, took the back of Yakov’s hand, and kissed it. “Thank you, my son. Thank you for what you’ve done.”

“A word of advice. I’d get your nuns out of this city if I were you. I have a feeling that when all this is done, I’ll have no say in what comes afterward. Leave now. Don’t delay.”

Sister Agnes patted Anastasia’s hand, hugged Lydia, and bid good-bye to the others.

When she’d left the carriage Yakov pulled down the blinds. “I’d leave these down if I were you, at least until you’re well clear of the station.”

Andrev said, “Why the change of heart, Leonid?”

“You’re right. There’s been enough death, enough killing. Let it end here.”

“Come with us?”

“Not possible right now. I’m expected at the Kremlin to make my report. Besides, how could I abandon Katerina?”

“Boyle wasn’t lying when he said he could get her out of Moscow.”

“And I intend to accept his offer. Explanations later. First, do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“Go make sure Nina’s all right. But hurry. This fog’s only going to get worse. I want you out of here while there’s still time.”

Yakov opened his cigarette case and offered a cigarette to Boyle, who accepted. Yakov lit them both and said to Lydia, “Your friend here doesn’t speak much Russian, so I’ll ask you to translate. I want my daughter taken out of Moscow.”

“And you?”

“That’s not important right now. I no longer trust Trotsky or Lenin. If I can, I’ll arrange the release of Nina’s parents. Can he do it? Can he get them all out?”

Lydia translated, and when Boyle answered, she replied, “He says it can be done.”

“How soon?”

“Within weeks. You have his word.”

Yakov considered. “I’ll need more than that. After what’s happened tonight, I’ve no idea if I’ll be alive for much longer. That’s why I have a condition in return for my help. One of you must come with me to Moscow and keep Katerina safe until you take her out. I’ll arrange for you to both stay somewhere secure. Anything less may only jeopardize her life.”

“What about you?”

“If I’m still alive, we can all leave together.” Yakov took a notebook from his pocket and scribbled an address. “That’s the apartment where your people can make contact.”

When Lydia explained to Boyle, there was a sound behind them. Andrev returned and was leaning against the doorway, listening.

Yakov said, “You heard?”

Andrev stepped away from the doorway. “Enough of it. I’ll stay, Leonid.”

Yakov shook his head. “No. Nina’s going to need her son’s father close to her for now. Be good to her. Her heart’s broken. Otherwise, I fear she’ll go over the edge. Besides, you’re a wanted man; your presence would be risky.” Yakov gestured to Sorg. “He needs medical attention. And Boyle’s your ticket out of here.” He turned to Lydia. “I’m afraid it’s down to you.”

She said, “I’ll stay.”

Boyle said, “Would someone care to explain?”

Lydia did so, and when Andrev went to protest, she said, “I’ve made up my mind, Uri. It won’t be long, weeks at most.”

A look passed between them, something close to distress.

A locomotive engine whistled, the carriage jerked a little, and then came the brittle, metallic noise of buffers shunting.

A sharp rap came on the door, and the barrack commander poked his head round. “We’ve shunted another engine in place. Whenever you’re ready, the train can depart, Commissar.” The man snapped off a salute and disappeared.

Boyle said, “Lydia’s right, Uri. It won’t be long. I really hate to rush this, but we need to move.”

Yakov peered out at the thickening fog, descending rapidly like a gauze veil.

Off in the distance, cathedral bells rang out 3 a.m.

Yakov turned back, put a hand on Uri’s shoulder. “There’s nothing more to say. Go, before it’s too late. With any luck, we’ll meet again.”

On the platform, the fog was thickening. It shrouded everything in a gray steam.

Andrev, Lydia, and Yakov waited as Boyle checked the dials in the engine cabin, then he scurried down the steps. “The steam pressure’s good, we’re all set. You’ve said your good-byes?”

Andrev nodded grimly. “As best we could under the circumstances.”

Boyle offered Yakov his hand. “Here’s to our reunion, and with any luck cracking open a bottle in London.”

Andrev translated, and Yakov told Boyle, “I may hold you to that.”

Boyle took Lydia’s hand, kissed it, and winked at her. “As for you, young lady, keep your head down, watch that Irish temper of yours, and try not to get in any trouble. Do what Yakov tells you, and I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Good-bye, Boyle. I hope you make it.”

Boyle smiled tightly. “One interesting aspect of life is that whenever we endure a terrible experience, everything that comes after seems like a bonus. Until we meet again.” He turned to Andrev. “We leave now, before this fog gets any worse.”

Boyle climbed up on the engine again. As the locomotive started to move, he gestured to Andrev. “Don’t delay. Time waits for no man, Uri.”

The carriages jerked forward.

Andrev produced a silver locket and pressed it into Lydia’s palm. “I meant to give you this in Moscow. But then everything got muddled and there never seemed to be the right moment.” He closed her fingers around the locket, then kissed her on the cheek. “A small memento. Look after her, Leonid.”

Yakov nodded. They shook hands.

The train picked up speed. Andrev jumped on board. He stood
on the carriage footplate, staring back at them as the engine drew away.

As Lydia watched it go, she touched a hand to her cheek, let it linger and fall, then looked at Yakov. “Why? Why let them go?”

He lit a cigarette. “Life is always one thing on the surface, but something else beneath, don’t you think? Perhaps sometimes we never know how deep feelings run until they’re tested. And you and Uri, I sensed something, if I’m not mistaken.”

She didn’t speak but unclenched her hand and looked down at the silver locket. On the front were the double-headed Imperial eagles, inlaid in gold. She turned it over in her palm. There was an inscription. She studied it.

Yakov said, “It means something to you?”

She nodded and looked up. Yakov thought he saw tears at the corners of her eyes. “Yes, it means something,” she said hoarsely. “And you and Nina?”

The question caught him by surprise. She said, “Don’t look so shocked. Women sense these things.”

He took another drag on his cigarette. “There are many kinds of love, I think. There’s passionate love, and there’s dutiful love, though often we don’t realize that really they’re just different sides of the same coin.” He pulled up his collar. “And then there’s another kind of love. The kind we can only show by setting someone free.”

Lydia shivered in the early morning chill. “Is that why you did it?”

“Who knows? Who knows anything, anyhow? Except what our hearts tell us.” Yakov removed his coat and placed it around her shoulders to ward off the cold. “Allow me.”