'How could this have happened?' wept one man. 'Why? Why did they kill the children?'
'Enough of that,' said the second in command who had been left behind to supervise the clean-up. 'Get to work and get this cleaned up. There can be no trace left of what has happened in this house tonight.'
They set to work; it was a filthy job, the blood so thick on the floors they first tried to sweep it away with brooms, before dousing it with bucket after bucket of cold water before setting to and scrubbing it in earnest. The stench of blood and gunpowder was unbearable, and often they had to take short breaks to go outside and breathe the fresh early morning air, before venturing back to continue. They sprinkled sawdust on the floor in the hope that it would assist in soaking up the blood and then swept it up, along with discarded bullets and cartridges. They wiped the walls down with wet cloths, but blood splatter remained, clearly visible.
'Not much we can do about this,' said one guard, surveying the damage as he inserted a finger into one of the many bullet holes in the papered plaster walls. 'I reckon we've done our best, but it still looks like a murder room to me.'
Two
London.
Mid-August 1991.
'Come on, you two, will you please hurry up? We're going to be so late!' May shouted up the stairs, just as her two teenage children, Amy and Tara came racing down, clutching their school bags and coats.
'Quickly, grab some toast and hop in the car,' May said 'you don't have time for anything else.'
'We never do, Mum,' Amy laughed, hugging her. 'Since when has breakfast been more important than sleep?'
May laughed, in spite of her annoyance at yet another rushed, stressful start to what was going to be a busy day. Amy was right. The days of the girls waking the house at the crack of dawn were long gone, and she certainly couldn't complain about that, especially on the weekends.
She got them to the bus stop for the school bus just in time, and waved them off, making sure that she knew they were safely aboard before moving off herself, easing into the heavy traffic that slowly ground itself towards the city centre. As she did every day, May thanked her lucky stars that her job with the London Metropolitan Police came with her own parking space; if finding a parking spot at this hour of the morning had been required, she thought that she might as well have stayed at home.
'I have to get those girls more organised in the mornings.' She said aloud, again, just as she did every morning, but knowing that it would be an impossible task. Amy was sixteen, Tara fourteen, and it seemed as though overnight they had morphed from two little angels to headstrong, independent teenagers. She didn't mind, and truth be told, quite enjoyed it. They were fantastic company, the three of them good friends even, particularly over the last six months since she and her husband Matt, had separated.
She shifted uneasily in her seat, thinking about the separation. She didn't quite know what had gone wrong, just that they had grown apart; their dedication to their work was taking them in entirely different directions, and it seemed as though they had suddenly woken up one morning to discover that they had nothing in common anymore.
She hoped that it would just be temporary; she did still love Matt and hoped that spending some time apart might be just what they needed.
Reaching work, she pulled into the car park and parked in her usual spot before walking in and taking the elevator to her office. Her watch said it was just before half past eight, so she was pleased to know that she still had some time up her sleeve to make a quick coffee before making a start. Again, as per usual, in her morning rush, she had not had time to finish the cup she had made at home and had left it somewhere, she couldn't remember where. It would be rank by the time she got home, she thought.
May was a forensic anthropologist for the police, focusing on identifying old bones. For the last two months, she had been working on the identification of a partial skeleton that had been found buried at a building site in central London. Her job was to determine whether the bones were old and if so, how old, and whether further investigation was warranted. She had decided that these bones were historical, some poor sod who had been dead and buried for centuries, and beyond anyone’s help now. She had almost finished writing her report and as she was not working on any other active cases, had been planning to talk to her boss, James Stanton, in the hope of coaxing him into letting her have a week off.
'May, there you are. I was just on my way to your office.' She turned to see him, almost as though her thoughts had conjured him up, walking down the corridor behind her.
'Good morning James, I was just going to make a coffee, do you want one?'
'No thanks, but can you come to my office when you're ready? I've got something I need to discuss with you.'
'Yes, of course, but that sounds ominous,' she said jokingly, 'am I in trouble again?'
She looked up at him laughing, and saw that he was not laughing back at her; in fact, he looked as serious as she had ever seen him.
'No, no, of course not,' he replied, 'just, as soon as you can, please May.' She watched him as he walked off in the direction of his office; same black pinstripe suit, today with a lemon-yellow shirt and light blue tie, his back ramrod straight, his stride long and purposeful, as though he owned the ground he walked on.
'Interesting,' May thought. She finished making her coffee, and not wasting any time, went straight to James' office, knocking lightly on his door as she entered.
'Can you close the door please?' he asked before she sat down. He sat regarding her for a moment, and she thought, not for the first time that he certainly was a handsome man with salt and pepper hair and a matching moustache, and at this moment, his bright green eyes were suddenly and unexpectedly serious.
'How are you going with the unknown building site case?'
'I'm almost finished writing my report. I should have it to you by the end of today.' She replied. 'Actually, I'm glad you asked because I was going to ask you if I could have some-'
'Something important has suddenly come up, and I'd like you to handle it.' James interrupted, picking up a sheet of paper from his desk and glancing at it quickly. He leaned forward towards her, closing the space between them.
'Oh, really? What is it?'
'I've had a fax …well, you're probably not going to believe this May, because I hardly can myself, but it's from the Russian government.'
'The Russian government?' she asked in surprise. She took a sip of coffee and placed her cup on the edge of his desk.
'Apparently, last month they discovered a shallow grave in a forest, Koptyaki Forest, I think it's called, not far from a place called Ekaterinburg, and it appears to contain several bodies. At this stage, they're not sure who they are, but they want to get an international team of experts together to examine and, if possible, identify them.'
'You're right, that is interesting.'
James leaned back in his chair. 'I'd like you to go over there to represent the Met on that international team.'
'Go to Russia? You are joking, aren't you?'
'No, I'm serious. I’d love to go myself, but you know I'm tied up with the Butler murder trial and need to give evidence in the High Court over the next couple of weeks, and I think it's best if I stay here to cover any new cases that might come in while you are away.'
'You are serious about this then. But I don't understand.' May shook her head in disbelief, 'why are the Russians requesting an international team? Don't they usually handle these types of things themselves?' She picked up her coffee cup again, only to find that her hand was trembling. She quickly put it down hoping that he hadn't noticed.
'I don't know much,' he replied, scanning the sheet of paper again, but it seems as though they think the bodies might be those of the Romanov family.'
'The Romanovs?' she repeated, stunned, 'you mean the last Tsar of Russia and his family?
'The very same.' James nodded, handing the sheet of paper over to her. 'The last time anyone heard from them was towa
rds the end of World War One; July seventeenth 1918, to be exact.'
May quickly scanned the paper, but it didn't tell her anything more than James had said, that of the discovery of a grave containing human remains in a place called the Koptyaki Forest, that they were requesting international help in identifying them, and that there was a high likelihood that they were those of Nicholas Romanov and his family.
'But James, how can I go to Russia? I've got my work here, and the girls and…'
He leaned forward in his chair again, his voice low and intense. 'May, this could be important, and perhaps be a find of significant historical importance, not just to Russia, but to the rest of the world. The mystery of what happened to this family could finally be solved.' He paused, as if wondering whether to say more, then decided to. 'In addition, we need to consider the political angle with regards to the ongoing British and Russian relationship, particularly now given the political shift over there. There's also the fact that the Tsar and Tsarina were both related by blood to our Royal family.' He looked at her, unwilling to say any more.
'But, even if I could go….and I'm only saying if, James, how would I even get there and when?" May felt as though she was in a dream, this seemed so unreal, but at the same time, she felt a growing sense of excitement at the idea of travelling to a country she would never have dreamed of visiting and being a part of something that had the potential to be so intriguing.
'You'd need to go as soon as possible.' he responded. 'We have no idea how much work the Russians have done on this already or whether they've even excavated the grave yet. You must get there as soon as possible.'
'Who else is going to be involved in this international team?' she asked, knowing that she sounded resigned to it now.
'The Russians, of course, and a team from America, as I understand it.' He laughed cynically, 'you'll be in good company.'
'I need to talk to Matt about the girls. If I can work that out James, then yes, OK, I'll go…. But reluctantly. I don't know a thing about Russia or the Romanovs….'
'Well, I suggest you read up on them if you can. It might be useful to have some background information. Go home and get yourself sorted, and I'll get your travel arrangements made.' He stood up and came around his desk to stand in front of her. 'This is a unique opportunity, May. You're the best investigator at the Met - I know you'll be an asset to them over there. I have the utmost trust and confidence in you.'
May made her way back to her office, and was unsurprised to see that James had already arranged the delivery to her office of a case containing a pre-packaged forensic kit for her to take with her. As was standard practice, it included disposable gloves and suits as well as the other items she would typically use either at an excavation or in a laboratory. It would seem that James had already decided she was going before he had even spoken to her, she thought wryly.
She picked up the phone and rang Matt at his office. He was a lawyer at a firm with offices on the other side of London, and they often joked that she helped to catch the bad guys while he did his best to prevent them from going away. Much to her relief that he was at his desk and not at Court, he picked up his phone after a couple of rings.
'Matt Dawson here.' His tone, as always, was clipped and professional.
'Matt, it's me, something has come up at work, and James has asked me to go to Russia of all places!' She quickly gave him a brief rundown on her conversation with James.
'I'm so sorry, Matt, I know it's such short notice, this trip has come completely out of the blue.'
He didn't hesitate. 'Hey, it's fine love, whatever you need me to do. I can move back home for the time that you are away if you think that will be best.' He laughed, 'I hate my bedsit anyway. It will be nice to be home again.'
'That would be fantastic, Matt, and it will be lovely for the girls to have you home again. Thank you so much. I'll let you know when my travel arrangements come through so that you know what's happening.'
She hung up just as Leyla, James' secretary, came in with a bundle of papers on a folder.
'Here's all of your paperwork May; flights, accommodation, and everything else you should need. Someone from the Russian team will meet you when you arrive and take you to where you need to be,' she smiled her face merry with excitement. 'I must say you are so lucky; this all sounds so exciting!'
May took the folder from her and quickly leafed through it.
'You got all of this arranged very quickly Leyla,' she said accusingly, 'James only told me about it an hour and a half ago!'
'Yes, well….' Leyla looked shifty. 'He might have known last night, and I might have come in early to get it done.' She laughed as she made her way out of Mays' office.
May took a closer look in the folder. She was booked on a charter flight leaving Heathrow at seven the following morning and arriving at Koltsovo Airport, wherever that was, at eleven, Russia being four hours ahead of London. She felt her excitement levels jump a notch at the ease of which everything was falling into place to enable her to go.
May drove home, dropping into the local library to see if they had any books on the Romanovs available to borrow so that she could do some research and try and find out a bit more information on the family, and what may have happened to them so many years ago. Choosing one from their selection, she checked it out at the front desk, noting that it needed to be back within a month. She certainly hoped that it would be returned a long time before its due date.
Running up the steps and unlocking the stained glass decorated front door that graced the front entrance of her terraced brick house, May reminded herself to water the potted plants on the doorstep before she left; their bright flowers were starting to droop, and she hoped that the girls would take care of them while she was away. She went through each room, tidying up, restacking the pile of magazines on the coffee table, placing dirty dishes, including this morning's coffee cup, which she eventually found on the bathroom floor; into the dishwasher and clothes into the laundry basket. She stood for a few moments considering the wilderness that was her back garden and wished that she had been able to take some time off as she had wanted to so that she could do some weeding and landscaping.
Returning upstairs, she packed a suitcase, noting from the information Leyla had given her that July was generally Ekaterinburg's warmest month, but she included a couple of cardigans and a jacket too, just in case. It was disconcerting packing while not knowing how long she was likely to be away for; and noted that as there was no return ticket included in the paperwork from Leyla could only assume that James would sort that out once she was no longer needed in Russia.
She cooked their favourite meal, roast chicken with all the trimmings and treated herself to an early afternoon glass of wine, while waiting for the girls to get home from school and she could tell them she would be away for a while.
'But that's fabulous, Mum!' exclaimed Tara, hugging her tightly around the waist when she told them her news, 'Russia! How exciting!'
'Are you sure it's going to be OK?' May asked anxiously, 'Dad will be here and….'
'Of course, it will Mum, we'll be perfectly fine,' replied Amy, coming over to hug her as well. 'I'm so proud of you!' The three of them stood together for a long while, hugging each other tight, and May thought how lucky she was to have such great kids, grumpy, contrary teenagers or not.
'You know what, Mum,' Amy said after dinner, 'I'm so pleased that you're going over there to do this. I've had a look at this book that you got from the library, and it's pretty awful what happened to those people.'
'What love?' May asked, coming over to sit next to her on the sofa.
'Well, according to this, the Mum and Dad were the rulers of Russia, the Emperor, and Empress, and they had five children, four girls, and a boy. There was a revolution, and he abdicated his throne. Then they were imprisoned; firstly, at a place called Tobolsk, then they were moved to Ekaterinburg, and then they just disappeared. No-one ever saw them again, and no-one ever reall
y knew for sure what happened to them. Look at this photo, they all look so nice, and the girls are so pretty!' Amy said, sadly.
'Isn't that where you're going, Mum? To Ekaterinburg? Maybe it is that family who they've found in the forest.' Tara mused.
'Maybe.' May replied, taking the book from Amy and looking at the photograph displayed on the opened page. It was a formal portrait, in black and white of a handsome, regal looking family, and looking at them, May felt cold suddenly, goose bumps rising on her arms. It was as though "someone had walked across your grave," as her Dad was fond of saying.
She shut the book, and seeing that it was getting late, headed off to bed. 'I'll be up really early in the morning and won't see you,' she told the girls, 'but Dad will be here to get you off to school. I'll be in touch with you as soon as I can'. She kissed them both goodnight and watched as they went to their respective bedrooms. After showering, she rang her parents, who lived in Auckland, New Zealand. May had not seen them for a couple of years; she and Matt had taken the girls to visit their grandparents and her homeland for her thirtieth birthday. She felt a need to hear their voices and to tell them that she loved them. She told them about her upcoming trip, what she would be doing, and how excited she was about it.
'I don't know how long I'll be gone for, but I promise you I'll let you know once I'm there and settled.'
Three
Ekaterinburg, Russia
1991
The plane landed at the airport at Koltsovo right on time. The six-hour flight had seemed to go so quickly, and May felt that she had hardly got herself settled. She enjoyed flying; loved the sensation of being sealed in a capsule high above the world, moving silently and motionlessly through time and across different countries. She had never flown privately before and found the experience to be luxurious, especially compared to being squashed into the economy class, which she was more used to when flying.
The Girl With the Crystal Soul Page 2