The Romanov Code’s Story
The four of them shook hands outside Ipatiev House. Maksim Bulatov’s chauffeuse opened a rear passenger door of the gleaming eighth-gen Rolls-Royce Phantom. ‘It’s been fun,’ the Colonel declared. He got into his car. The chauffeuse closed the door, slipped behind the wheel and gunned the purring engine. The vehicle inched forward. Stopped. The window closest to Novak slid down to reveal Bulatov’s beaming face. ‘Let’s do this again some time, comrades!’
The Phantom glided away.
Silence for a moment.
Frank, Stacey and Novak began walking to the mustard-coloured Morris Marina.
They paused. The Colonel’s car moved through the estate’s iron gates and disappeared onto the roads beyond.
Stacey glanced at Novak. ‘Did you make the switch?’
Frank replied, ‘Course he made the switch.’
‘Hey.’ Novak pulled a small item from the poacher’s pocket specially sewn into the inside of his suit’s lining. Wrapped in brown paper, the package looked to be the size of a book. ‘I made the switch. Now, can we get a drink, please?’