Alex left the countess’s mansion with the Okhrana dossier under his arm and climbed inside the family coach.
Within a few minutes, the Roskov residence came into his view. Alex had visited here many times in the last year and a half. He entered through the wide doors and, as usual, asked for Miss Roskova.
“Miss Roskova is with her cousin, Mr. Peshkov, in the drawing room. Miss Peshkova is also expecting you, Colonel Kronstadt.”
So, Sergei was showing himself within the Roskov social circle. It was bold of him. The Okhrana’s “shadow people,” as they were dubbed by those being spied upon, were watching him. He’d managed to slip away from the family manor in Kiev before Durnov could interrogate him, but he wouldn’t escape again if they wanted him. Alex was tempted to let the major-general know he’d heard Sergei’s inflamed rhetoric against the Imperial government, but to do so would be to expose Karena and Dr. Zinnovy as well. Alex had nothing against Sergei personally, nor was there anything to gain by harassing him now. Josef Peshkov had made his decision and was sticking to his confession. Alex imagined Sergei carried a crushing load of guilt—his father was even now at the Peter and Paul prison in Petrograd.
Alex dismissed the servant, saying he would announce himself, and made his way toward the drawing room.
The expansive rooms displayed a cohesive selection of Byzantine-style carpets and other furnishings of the old Eastern Empire. Wooden furniture and exposed beams were hand carved, oiled, and polished. Rich paintings, including one of the Romanov family, were prominently hung.
The drawing room doors stood open, and he heard challenging voices. Were the two cousins badgering each other?
Alex paused outside the wide doorway. Sergei stood, hands on hips, laughing at Tatiana. Alex could see at once that Sergei’s humor held biting sarcasm.
“Rasputin?” Sergei said. “So he is our hope, is he? Heaven help the world of fools.”
“How dare you laugh!” came Tatiana’s clipped words.
“Why do I laugh?” Sergei took a turn around the room as if pondering. “All right, since you wonder, I’ll tell you. To be honest, though, I doubt if you or your silly women friends can swallow the truth without choking. I laugh because women of the nobility who have everything but wisdom will turn to this peasant and sup with him. I laugh because when he tells you to lick sticky jam from his grubby fingers as an act of humility, you are stupid enough to do it. I laugh because you actually think this fool is from God—as if God would have someone half-drunk on vodka most the time. Oh, don’t turn purple about it. Yes indeed, you will kiss his dirty hands, call him Teacher and Shepherd, and say he’s good and wise and—worst of all—holy.”
She gasped, stunned by his words. Sergei grinned. “Rasputin is an absurdity that women with an ounce of discernment could see through in a flash. But women such as you—educated, rich, and otherwise intelligent—have no discernment at all. They blindly and devotedly follow a fool, and that even includes the czarina! Dirty Rasputin cannot even help himself. He’s drunk several times a week. Yet the women of nobility flock about him with their little elite band of disciples, claiming to be ‘seekers of light.’ ‘Oh, Razzy! I adore you!’ he mocked in a high-pitched voice. ‘Razzy, Razzy, kiss me, my wise peasant teacher.’ ”
Tatiana’s dark eyes flashed like a summer squall. Her palm connected with his cheek.
“You arrogant coward,” she breathed, stepping toward him as he stepped back, still grinning wickedly, though his cheek was blushed.
“Kiss me, Razzy, kiss me,” he goaded.
“Do you think I don’t know how you allowed your father to be arrested and sent to the mines to protect your own skin?” Tatiana sneered.
Sergei’s smile vanished. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It is you and your vulgar Bolshevik friends who have no discernment. Count Kalinsky was assassinated this morning. It wouldn’t surprise me if your best friend, Lenski, was involved. Oh, don’t look surprised, as if you didn’t know. Your little sweetheart Ivanna might have been with him hurling dynamite.”
“Leave Ivanna out of this,” came his warning voice.
Tatiana smiled now. “Ah yes, I do know. My father’s in the Okhrana, my dear cousin, and I know oh so much.”
“Snooping where you’ve no right, eh? It suits you perfectly. And what do you think you have discovered?”
“About Ivanna Lenski? Nothing, but about Karena? Oh, you’d be surprised. Tell me, little Bolshevik cousin, how old were you when your sister was born, eh?”
He frowned. “What’s come over you? What are you talking about?”
“That pendant Yeva has, the one with all those treasured jewels, do you know where she got it?”
“Pendant?”
“The one from Dr. Zinnovy! And I’m going to get possession of it somehow and prove it. Countess Katya will know if it belongs to her set with one glance.”
“You’ve gone mad. I don’t know what you’re yowling about. All it takes is the light shined on your Razzy, and you and the other females go nutty. The czarina is nutty too, if you ask me.”
She stepped closer to Sergei and waved her jeweled finger under his nose. She pursued him across the room. “I know about the silly peasant girl, too, who died giving birth to your illegitimate daughter.”
Bitter gall showed on Sergei’s face now. His grin was gone, and there was nothing but hatred in his brown eyes. He flipped his dark hair back from his forehead.
“You reactionaries!” he scorned. “If Russia is destroyed, it won’t be by revolutionaries like Lenski. It will happen because of people like you. You love your lies. The czar and czarina kiss the hands of a drunken peasant and call him their ‘eyes and their ears.’ While you, Tatiana, you and your rich and noble and stupid little friends fall at his dirty feet and believe he has the answers!” He gave his mirthless laugh again. “And you think Russia can remain strong? Lenin is right. The fruit on the tree is rotten! All we need to do is wait and shake it hard. Our culture will come tumbling down to be trampled underfoot!”
Sergei turned on his heels and stalked from the sitting room. He stopped short upon meeting Alex leaning in the doorway, dossier in hand.
Sergei gave him a measuring look as if he wondered whether he was going to have a fight on his hands. He narrowed his gaze. “Who are you?” he demanded.
Alex dipped his head in a small bow, a smirk on his lips. “Colonel Aleksandr Kronstadt, Okhrana.”
Sergei paled, then rallied. “Now look here, Kronstadt. I don’t want to take you on, but I will if you want it.”
“The last time I wore my white dress uniform, I had wine thrown in my face,” Alex said, bored. “Let’s wait until I have dirty battle fatigues on, shall we?”
Sergei frowned and glared.
Alex arched a brow. “Or I could just arrest you this moment. You ran off from the Peshkov manor before Major-General Durnov could interrogate you about Grinevich. We’re still looking for one of those who landed a few kicks to his ribs. Would you know anything about that sort of violence?”
Sergei licked his lips. “No, it wasn’t me. I swear it wasn’t.”
Alex straightened, putting his height to his advantage. “You behaved like a fool tonight, mocking Tatiana the way you did. I might agree with most of what you said about Rasputin, but your goading was immature.”
“I don’t need your lectures where my cousin’s concerned.”
“You’ve a lot to learn, Sergei. I’m afraid your growing pains will be agonizing.”
“Am I free to go or not?”
“You can go. But we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, like it or not.”
Sergei squinted at him. “What do you mean by that?”
“Where is Karena?”
He scanned Alex curiously. “In Kiev, with our mother. They’re due here in a few weeks, though my mother wrote Natalia that they’d be staying with Uncle Matvey. Why do you ask about her?”
Tatiana stormed up. “Because Alex is falling for her, that’s why.”
Alex looked at her evenly. “You’re terribly upset, Tatiana. Better sit down and calm yourself. We need to have a talk.”
Sergei watched him with sudden interest, then flashed a smile and looked toward Tatiana. “So Karena’s won him away, has she? Doesn’t surprise me. She’s twice the lady you are.” He turned and marched out.
A terrible silence pervaded. Tatiana held her hands in fists at her sides.
“A Bolshevik. I knew it all along. You should arrest him and let poor Uncle Josef go.”
“Please sit down, Tatiana. We need to discuss matters in a sane and sensible way. I don’t want a yelling match like two children fighting.”
She turned and flounced over to the divan and sank into it, folding her arms and glaring at him, eyes smoldering.
Alex closed the drawing-room doors and turned to face her. She bounced back up, stormed over to a cupboard, and drew out a bottle of burgundy. She was reaching for a glass when he walked up, caught her wrist, plucked the bottle from her hand, and put it back.
“I don’t like women who need alcohol to face their mistakes.”
She showed surprise and stared at him. She appeared to calm down, and after a moment of silence, she brushed past him to stand with her back toward him, folding her arms again.
“Well?” she challenged. “You heard everything I said about Karena and Dr. Zinnovy. Go ahead and rebuke me.”
He walked over to her, took her arm, and turned her to face him. “You promised me in Kazan you’d leave this alone. Why are you stirring it up again?”
“You’re infatuated with her. Admit it.”
He searched her face. Anger flashed in her eyes, and he could see the pulse beating in her throat. “You’re right. I am infatuated.”
“You admit it!” she fumed.
“Yes. I’m sorry if this hurts you, but I’m not sorry my path has crossed with Karena’s.”
She sucked her breath in. Like an adder, her palm was ready to attack the second time that evening. He expected it and caught her hand, holding it.
“You’re not ready for marriage, Tatiana. Like Sergei, you need mellowing. You’re a firebrand ready to burn yourself out. You need time—and some hard lessons.”
“And you’re the expert. You have all the answers, all the mature responses.”
“No, I’ve learned a hard lesson just recently. I’m thankful I recognized it before I allowed a mistake to happen that would ruin our lives. Marriage is a commitment established on love and values, not on career and inheritance. We’re not meant for each other, Tatiana. It would end in tragedy sooner or later. We’re not in love with each other, and you know it as well as I.”
Her face reflected unexpected shock. “Oh, Alex, I do love you. You don’t know what you’re saying. You can’t mean that you want to end our relationship.”
“I don’t think we’ve ever had a relationship. We’ve had a selfish agreement, and it’s time to admit it. We’re not engaged officially, so stop pretending we are.”
“Wait till Father hears this,” she warned. “You’ll be ruined in the military. Is that what you want?”
He ignored the threat. “Your father sent me here to talk to you about Rasputin. Do you see this dossier? It contains accurate information on his habits and character. It will be turned over to Czar Nicholas by members of the Duma. You’d be wise to sit for twenty minutes while we go over this.”
“I’ll do no such thing. Snooping into someone’s private life—”
“You don’t appear troubled over snooping into Dr. Zinnovy’s and Madame Peshkova’s lives. You have no qualms about bringing misery to them or to Countess Zinnovy.”
She walked away again, her back toward him. “I want to buy the pendant from Yeva. What’s so dreadful about that?”
“Don’t pretend. I heard what you told Sergei. You want to hurt Karena. You’re jealous of her.”
“She’s come between us. Why shouldn’t I resent her? She’s ruined everything.”
“She’s ruined nothing. She’s helped to reveal the truth about us. Will you read this Okhrana report, or won’t you?”
“No. And Czarina Alexandra won’t read those lies either. All of you are against him—merely because he’s an uneducated peasant—and yet he shows all of you to be smaller than he. He has power to do good, and you wish to destroy him because of it.”
“Then I’ll read a few of the reports for you.” He tossed the folder open. “Here is a copy of a letter from the czarina to Rasputin—”
“I won’t listen!”
“Don’t be so hypocritical. You’re willing to shame others, including a great doctor. If this dossier were on Karena, you’d pay a high price to get your hands on it! Sit down!”
She did so.
He read from the Okhrana agent’s report: “ ‘I followed Rasputin. Tonight Rasputin brought a prostitute to his flat; later in the day she was set free by the servant.’
“Twenty-sixth of May, ‘Rasputin and a prostitute came home in Manus’s (a financier) car in an inebriated condition. While saying good-bye, he kissed and fondled her passionately. Later he sent for the porter’s wife to fetch the dressmaker Katia, but she was not at home.’
“Second of June. ‘At one o’clock in the morning, Rasputin came home drunk in the company of Manus. Without going to his flat, he sent the porter’s wife for the masseuse Outina, who lives in the same house, but she could not be found. Then he went to flat number 3 to see the dressmaker Katia. Here, he was apparently not allowed to enter, as he came back directly, and on the stairs he assaulted the porter’s wife, asking for kisses. The woman managed to disengage herself and ring up his flat, whereupon Dounia, Rasputin’s maid, led him away.’
“Twentieth of July. ‘Rasputin paid another visit to Arapov. He left his host’s house in a drunken condition and immediately repaired to the palm reader’s wife. On his return home at five-forty in the afternoon, he once more set out in spite of Dounia’s endeavors to prevent him. He rudely pushed her aside, telling her to “go to the devil,” and, drunk as he was, splashed through the mud without picking his way. Later, he came out of his house and began questioning the agents about yesterday’s happenings, sighing and wondering at having got so drunk, since, according to his own words, he had only three bottles of vodka.’ ”
He turned a page. “And this is a letter from the czarina to Rasputin when he’d been away from Petrograd. ‘My beloved, unforgettable teacher, redeemer, and mentor! How tiresome it is without you! My soul is quiet and I relax only when you, my teacher, are sitting beside me. I kiss your hands and lean my head on your blessed shoulders. Oh, how light, how light do I feel then! I only wish one thing: to fall asleep, forever, on your shoulders and in your arms. What happiness to feel your presence near me. Where are you? Where have you gone? Oh, I am so sad, and my heart is longing. Will you soon be again close to me? Come quickly, I am waiting for you and I am tormenting myself for you. I am asking for your holy blessing, and I am kissing your blessed hands. I love you forever. Yours, M.’ ”
Alex looked at Tatiana and saw her shocked and sickened expression.
“Shall I read more?” he asked quietly.
Tatiana stood and swept past him to the door. She looked back, her face white and strained, her dark eyes bright and feverish with emotion. “I hate you for what you’ve done, Alex.”
“I’m sorry you do. A doctor who diagnoses a disease takes no pleasure in seeing his patient’s grief upon learning the facts. But to ignore the disease will bring death. That letter from the czarina, with a few changes, might have been a prayer to the only one worthy of such devotion.”
“I don’t believe a word of that lying report. The Okhrana is persecuting Rasputin.”
“Your father has ordered me to go with you tonight to Rasputin’s meeting at Anna Vyrubova’s place.”
“You jest! Do you think I’d bring you there, knowing you’re a spy? And you needn’t worry about your commitment to me. Our engagement is broken. After tonight, I don’t care to ever see you again.”
He bowed in deference to her request.
“As far as Karena and Dr. Zinnovy are concerned,” she continued, “I intend to learn the truth. If she’s not related to me by blood, I want to know it.”
She turned abruptly, opened the door, and walked out.
Alex flipped the dossier closed and walked toward the door. His emotions were mixed. He’d just unearthed another man’s sins, and he didn’t feel particularly pleased with himself for having dragged Rasputin into the bright light. Alex was fully aware that he, too, fell far short of God’s perfect standards. His one consolation was the fact that Rasputin was standing in a position of holy authority, allowing the czarina and others to put their trust in him as someone righteous, someone who could carry them on his strong, wise shoulders in their weakness. Alex had learned from Michael’s correspondence that there was but one holy Redeemer to whom every knee would bow.
In unmasking Rasputin to Tatiana, he’d turned on the light. She hated him for it.
What now troubled him more than her devotion to Rasputin was Tatiana’s determination to learn the story about Dr. Zinnovy and Madame Yeva. She’d already promised him once that she would walk away from the matter of Zinnovy and the pendant. But even before he’d angered her about Rasputin and disappointed her about his growing feelings for Karena, she had baited Sergei with the secret knowledge she had vowed to forget. How could he trust her again?
Countess Olga Shashenka’s mansion presented the sight of smartly uniformed Imperial officers and richly gowned women in a fairy-tale scene during the lightly snowing night.
Alex was late in attending the ball. He’d spent the last hour with Gennady, Ivan, and General Roskov, discussing the assassination of Count Kalinsky. Alex had also to inform him of the sober news of his daughter’s bitter resentment.
“I read a few pages of the dossier to Tatiana, sir. I did my best to convince her of the hypocrisy of Rasputin’s immorality and the danger his influence over the czarina presents to Russia. Her response was decidedly negative, and at the close of our discussion she informed me that she would not allow me to accompany her to Rasputin’s meeting tonight.”
The general frowned his discouragement and insisted he would smooth matters over.
“I think it best, sir, that I reconsider my relationship with your daughter.”
The general looked too stunned to speak. Fortunately for Alex, Tatiana walked in with Madame Zofia and, ignoring Alex, called the general away to his guests.
Alex wondered again about Karena and her mother. He then noticed Dr. Dmitri Zinnovy, who’d just come from the library with the countess. Alex looked for Tatiana and saw her waltzing with Captain Karl Yevgenyev. He watched her float away in shimmering satin and pearls. For once, Alex felt relief at the sight. He turned away, walking the circumference of the ballroom until he came up beside Zinnovy.
“Good evening, Dr. Zinnovy.”
“Colonel Kronstadt.”
Alex recognized the wariness in his gaze. Zinnovy was probably wondering if he was about to question him on Karena’s alibi.
“Doctor, I’d like to speak with you alone for a few minutes, if I may. It’s rather urgent.”
The wariness became veiled. He straightened his shoulders and gave a brief, polite nod of his head.
“Why, certainly. Will the library be sufficient?”
“Yes sir. Thank you.
“After you, sir,” Alex said at the door. He reached over, opening it for him. Dr. Zinnovy entered, and Alex followed.
The orchestra’s music was muffled in the countess’s library, but Tchaikovsky’s wedding song from Swan Lake was heard in the background. Dr. Dmitri Zinnovy sat at the desk, hands clasped and folded upon the glossy table. Alex sat across from him. He pushed a handwritten paper across the table.
“I copied this directly from a paper on file with the Okhrana. It details your visits to Yeva Menkin in years past.”
Dr. Zinnovy read it and sighed.
“I have brought this to your attention, sir, to save time and argument. No man in public position who has money or power escapes being noticed by agents of the czar’s secret police. You married Countess Katya Rezanova, and it is known that her father leaned toward government reforms. That is why they watched her—and you as well.”
“Why do you bring this up now? If this has anything to do with the Bolshevik meeting back in August, I did happen to be in Kiev then, as my medical practice would have it, but it is known that I am strongly opposed to the Bolsheviks—not to mention their vile tactics. It was unfortunate I was in Kiev at the time.”
“That depends on how you see it. You saved your daughter from arrest, and that was very fortunate.”
Zinnovy met his gaze sharply.
“Karena is your daughter, sir. Is she not?”
“Karena should not be brought into this Bolshevik problem—”
“Dr. Zinnovy, I’d better declare myself. I’ve a personal claim in this. I’m falling in love with Karena Peshkova. I’m trying to protect her, and Madame Yeva. It’s presently a serious concern. As soon as I can get transferred from the Okhrana to my old regiment, or to the czar’s guard, I’ll be done with dusty files of secrets. I’ve no interest in digging through dirty closets. We all have them. Some are not as dark and ugly as others, but we all have our trespasses against God and man. I believe, sir, this is a foundational truth of Christianity, that all have sinned.”
Dr. Zinnovy removed his spectacles and placed a hand across his eyes.
“Let me go straight to the reason I’ve come to you, Doctor. There’s a pendant that belongs to Madame Yeva—of great value. It has recently been recognized by someone as part of a set belonging to Countess Rezanova. If it’s brought to the attention of your wife—well, you do see what I’m suggesting?”
He looked at him with a flash of realization. “The pendant!”
“Yes. I’ve a plan, sir. If you could buy back the pendant from a third party and return it secretly to the countess’s set, would you cooperate? It would remove the pendant from exposure, and the possibility of embarrassing questions.”
“I swear I’d forgotten all about it. Yes, of course. I would certainly cooperate to buy it back—discreetly, that is.”
“I was hoping you would say that. I believe Madame Yeva is in difficult financial straits. You know about her husband’s being sent to the Peter and Paul fortress. He’s likely to get a harsh sentence when the case of Policeman Grinevich goes to trial. Without her husband, Madame Yeva lacks enough support to live and care for her two daughters until they marry. I’m sure she’d sell the pendant for a reasonable price. She’s not the kind of woman who would extort, as you know. A reasonable price is all we would ask.”
Dr. Zinnovy studied him for a long moment. “You’re seriously interested in Karena?”
“Yes.”
“I won’t ask how this will affect your relationship with the Roskovs or your military career. But I’m sure it won’t aid you in the least.”
“I’ve already thought that through. I’ve made my decision. Even if Karena will have nothing to do with me, I’ll not marry Miss Roskova.”
He nodded. “A wise decision. Yes, of course, I’ll buy the pendant at more than a fair price.”
Alex snatched up the incriminating paper and laid it on the fiery coals in the fireplace. He turned to Dr. Zinnovy.
Dmitri stood and came around the table. “Thank you, Colonel Kronstadt.”
Alex gave a small bow of his head. “Where shall I meet you?”
“At the medical college. I’m there each day from noon until seven.”
“I’ll contact you with the pendant as soon as I can arrange to meet with Madame Peshkova.”
Alex bowed again, walked to the door, and departed.
Alex was standing in the archway that opened into the ballroom when Konni came up to him.
“Colonel Kronstadt, sir, Majors Sokolov are both looking for you. They are in the drawing room.”
Gennady and Ivan were talking with Natalia Peshkova when Alex came in. Natalia saw him and quickly excused herself. Ivan turned his head with apparent interest to watch her leave the parlor.
“I like that young lady,” Ivan commented.
“Very profound words,” Gennady said gravely.
“Well, I do like her.”
“You like them all.”
“This one is different.”
Alex cocked a brow at Ivan. “I happen to know that Natalia is different. So watch your behavior, my son,” he stated with mock gravity.
“Just so, Papa.”
“She’s also happily engaged to a conscript named Boris, a veterinarian who is presently facing the Huns in Poland,” Alex continued. “So if you like her, play the officer and gentleman, or she’ll avoid you—permanently.”
“She is also half-Jewish,” Gennady said with a sober gaze. “You know what that will cost you if you should fall for her.”
Alex stepped behind a masquerade of indifference.
After a moment of silence, Ivan looked at his glass and scowled. “It’s empty.”
“Good,” Alex said.
Gennady rubbed the scowl between his brows, his dejection over the Count Kalinsky assassination showing. “Look, we’ve important things to discuss. What did Durnov say about me?”
Alex told him. Ivan devoutly assured his twin that he would take his place before the firing squad. “How will they tell us apart, I ask you?”
“Firing squad!” Gennady sank into a brocade chair and held his head between his hands. “All these things are against me.”
There were no reassuring words that had not already been spoken, and the room lapsed into silence.
Alex walked to the window. Glowing lamps strung along the front pine trees emphasized the bleak silhouettes clawing in the breeze against the gray sky. His thoughts turned toward the pendant. He only assumed he could influence Karena’s mother into selling the jewels back to Dr. Zinnovy. He decided there was no time to lose on the matter—he’d leave for Petrograd first thing in the morning.
Then he heard a commotion in the entranceway.
“Sounds like trouble,” Ivan said. “I’d know that gravelly voice in my nightmares.”
Gennady turned quickly and stood.
Alex too looked toward the doorway where Konni appeared perturbed over Major-General Durnov’s entering the house without waiting to be escorted and presented.
Durnov stood, his bulk behind the greatcoat blocking the way, reminding Alex of a sullen bear.
Alex suspected there was something more than Gennady’s chance involvement in the Kalinsky assassination that morning to have brought Durnov here now.
Durnov then spotted Alex.
Alex heard a groan of despair from Gennady. “Here comes Major-General Death.”