Spies in St. Petersburg

by Katherine Woodfine

  ‘If you were really from the Fraternitas, I would probably be dead already,’ the Count finished hoarsely. ‘Very well. I will come with you. In any case, I know I have no choice.’

  They walked slowly, side by side, the short distance back to the pink house. It was a strange walk: the Count watching her with anxious suspicion in his face, still wheezing after his dash through the Summer Gardens; Sophie slowing her usual brisk pace so that he could keep up with her. When they arrived at the house, Sophie was relieved to find that Nakamura was at home. She led the Count quickly down to the cellar, where she knew they would be able to talk undisturbed.

  ‘This is my friend, Captain Nakamura. He was one of the pilots who flew in the Grand Aerial Tour of Europe. He can vouch for my identity.’

  But the Count’s eyes had widened in recognition already. ‘Not just any pilot – the winner of the Bronze Medal!’ he exclaimed – almost forgetting what was happening for a moment, in his enthusiasm to shake Nakamura’s hand. ‘It is a great pleasure to meet you, sir.’

  Nakamura looked confused but accepted the Count’s hand politely just the same. He eyed Sophie uncertainly, as if to ask if this was all part of her plan to pose as a member of the Fraternitas. But Sophie shook her head. ‘I’ve told the Count the truth,’ she explained. She turned to the Count: ‘My real name is Sophie Taylor – I work alongside another agent, Lilian Rose, who you know as Miss Carter. She was sent by the British government to act as governess to Crown Prince Alex and Princess Anna, to help protect them. That’s how I know all about what happened in Arnovia and about the kidnap attempt in Paris. I was there on the airfield. I helped pull the Prince out of your plane. I watched you fly away and then I followed you, with Captain Nakamura.’

  ‘It’s true,’ said Nakamura. ‘She’s followed you right across Europe to get this notebook and the information it contains. She has told me many times that she must stop it falling into the hands of the society.’

  The Count was staring at Sophie intently, a spark of recognition crossing his face. ‘You ran towards me, when I was in the plane,’ he muttered. ‘I pushed you away . . .’

  ‘That’s right.’ Sophie nodded. ‘I was trying to get the notebook. That’s all I want. I know you’re hiding from the authorities. I won’t give you up to them – and I can give you money, if that’s what you want. But you must give me the notebook.’

  ‘It’s not money I care about,’ said the Count, taking the seat that Nakamura was offering him and wiping his brow with a handkerchief. ‘Though goodness knows, I have little enough of it left. It’s what’s inside the notebook that matters – and making sure it never falls into the hands of those villains.’

  ‘Do you mean the information about the weapon?’ Sophie asked at once.

  The Count nodded. ‘I spent a long time studying the notebook. I wanted to know why it was so important to them. Much of it is in some sort of code, which for all my efforts, I cannot understand. But from what I could make out . . .’ He shook his head again, and then fell silent, apparently running out of words.

  ‘It explains about the secret weapon, doesn’t it?’ asked Sophie. Excitement surged through her like an electric current. ‘And how to find it.’

  The Count nodded again. ‘Even from what little I could read, it’s clear that this notebook contains all the information the Fraternitas would need to decipher the clues in the paintings and locate the weapon. What’s more, the weapon itself has incredible power. It is greater and more terrible than anything we can imagine.’

  His voice dropped lower. ‘Europe is already teetering on the brink of a war unlike any we have seen before. I have seen many a battlefield in my time, but the thought of what lies ahead – it terrifies me. The Kaiser is hungry for power; he’s jealous of the British Navy and eager to prove himself a mightier man than his old chancellor, Bismarck. The Tsar will not tolerate any threat to his Empire; and as for your own government, mademoiselle . . .’ He paused, and Sophie had the sense he was choosing his words with care. ‘Your own government will stop at nothing to protect Britain’s power and prestige. If the Fraternitas were to intervene and sell this dangerous weapon to the highest bidder, the balance of power in Europe could be completely destroyed.’

  Sophie stared at him. ‘But you worked for the Fraternitas,’ she said. ‘You conspired with them to have Prince Alex kidnapped, to cause chaos in Arnovia, so you could claim the throne for yourself.’

  The Count’s expression was deeply uneasy. ‘I know. It was my wife’s plan and I went along with it. But I had no idea what was at stake. I didn’t understand then who the Fraternitas were – and I had no idea that all this was part of their bigger plan to spark off a European war. I certainly never meant any harm to come to Alex. You don’t know how I’ve lain awake, night after night, tormented by the bitterest regrets – and wondering what was to be done.

  ‘More than once I almost threw the notebook in the fire, so that would be an end to it. But I don’t know what other secrets the coded sections may contain and how important they may be. What’s more, there’s no way of knowing how close the Fraternitas may already be to finding the weapon. More and more I have come to believe that the only hope is to find the weapon before the Fraternitas or anyone else can claim it for themselves.’

  ‘And does the notebook really tell you how to do that?’ asked Sophie.

  ‘The notebook outlines the specifications of a device which is needed to decode the dragon paintings,’ the Count explained. ‘I suppose you might call it a kind of spyglass. It’s made with a series of different coloured lenses, which can be used to allow the viewer to clearly see details that have been cleverly concealed inside the paintings.’

  Sophie frowned, trying to make sense of this. ‘How does it work?’

  The Count cleared his throat. ‘Imagine you are looking at a sheet of white paper, with a message written on it in blue ink,’ he began. ‘Now, let us imagine that another message has been written on the same paper in red ink, on top of the message beneath it. If you were to look at this paper through a piece of red glass, what would happen then?’

  Nakamura was listening intently. ‘The white paper would appear red – and therefore the message in red will disappear.’

  ‘Precisely. But what about the blue message?’

  ‘You’d still be able to see it,’ said Nakamura. ‘The red message would be gone and you’d see the blue message underneath.’

  ‘Yes. But now, what if you were to look at the same message through a piece of blue glass.’

  ‘This time the blue ink would disappear, leaving only the red message,’ said Sophie.

  ‘Exactly so. I believe that it is using this same basic principle that secret messages have been concealed in the dragon paintings. The spyglass contains a series of different coloured lenses, which can be raised, lowered and adjusted in different combinations. This will allow the viewer to see the secret messages, which would be otherwise invisible to them.’ He paused for breath, and then admitted: ‘For a little while, I have been wondering whether it would be possible for me to have the device made, so I could obtain the secret messages and destroy the weapon myself.’

  ‘So that’s why you came to Rivière’s so often!’ exclaimed Sophie. ‘And why you always wanted to look at the opera glasses. You thought they might be able to make the spyglass there.’

  ‘Yes. The craftsmen at Rivière’s are amongst the few who would be able to construct such a sophisticated and intricate device. But such a commission would be expensive and I have little money left. Besides, I have no way of finding the paintings. Yet something must be done.’

  Sophie leaned forward across the table. ‘Something can be done,’ she said. ‘If you give me the notebook, I’ll take it back to the British government. We have some of the paintings already, and my colleagues are even now hunting for the rest. We’ll be able to construct the device, examine the painting and locate the weapon – and prevent the Fraternitas from ever getting it!’r />
  The Count gave her a long, thoughtful look. Then he said gently: ‘But you must see that is impossible. If I give this information to the British government, they could use it to further their own power. To wage war on the German Empire, to strengthen their Naval might, or even to expand their territory in Africa or Asia. The British Empire is perhaps the richest and most powerful in the world. I don’t believe they could resist the temptation to become more powerful still.’

  For a moment, Sophie was silenced. She’d never considered such a thought before. But if they found the weapon, surely the Chief would not simply hand it over to the government to use against their own enemies? The Chief would feel as she did – that the weapon must be destroyed, before it could cause any harm.

  ‘But that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to stop the Fraternitas,’ she explained. She hesitated for a moment, and then went on: ‘My mother and father both gave their lives to oppose them. I don’t know what more I can say to convince you, except that you have my word that I will see this weapon found and destroyed – not handed over to anyone else.’

  The Count’s eyes were keen in his haggard face. There was silence for a moment as he looked at her; she looked back at him; and Nakamura watched them both.

  ‘Very well,’ said the Count at last. ‘I have always heard that an Englishman’s word is his bond – I must hope that is true for an Englishwoman too. For if what you say is true, then you are the answer to my prayers. I will give you the notebook.’

  A bright flame of joy seemed to spark inside her. ‘Thank you. I promise I won’t let you down.’

  ‘We can go to the bank vault and collect it whenever you wish. But you must keep it safe – and take it away from here quickly. There’s no hiding from the Fraternitas. I am certain they know I am here. Putting the notebook into the bank was the only way I could think of ensuring its safety – and my own safety too.’

  Sophie nodded, knowing at once what he meant. The Fraternitas had killed for the notebook already – they would certainly not hesitate to harm the Count to get hold of it.

  ‘Can you tell me any more about the Fraternitas?’ she asked him eagerly. ‘How did you and the Countess come to be involved with them?’

  The Count shrugged wearily. He looked older and smaller now that he had confessed his secrets. ‘I can’t tell you much. The plot was my wife’s doing. I don’t know how she encountered the Fraternitas, and I don’t know the name of the fellow she dealt with. She always used a code name for him – “Gold” she called him. She would get letters and telegrams sometimes, which I suppose contained her orders. I buried my head in the sand – I didn’t want to know what she was doing. I should never have agreed to the kidnap. I couldn’t be sure no harm would come to the children, but what they were offering us was impossible to resist. My wife had always had grand ambitions, and now she saw me as a king and herself as a queen. I was naive – I really believed it was for the best, that I could make a difference . . .’ His voice drifted and he shook his head sadly. ‘Now, I suppose I shall never see Alex and Anna again.’

  Sophie felt a sudden stab of sympathy for him. The Count had been weak and foolish, and there was no doubt he had made some terrible mistakes, but he was facing a dreadful punishment – forced to hide far from everything and everyone he cared for.

  ‘I knew nothing of any notebook until my wife put it into my hand on the airfield. All I was told was that it contained vital information about an important weapon, and I needed to deliver it to a rendezvous point in Vienna. But then my wife was arrested – I was afraid and alone, with nothing but my plane. I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I had to get away, find somewhere safe to hide. I hardly thought about the notebook at first, but when I examined it and learned a little of what it contained, I was more frightened than ever. The Fraternitas were on my tail: their agents nearly caught me twice, but I managed to get away. I hoped Russia would be safer, at least for a while, but I had no doubt they would find me eventually. They must have their agents here, as they do everywhere.’

  ‘So what will you do now?’ asked Sophie. ‘Will you stay in St Petersburg?’

  The Count shrugged. ‘I haven’t the least idea. I’m not sure which would be worse – being murdered in Russia by a Fraternitas agent or spending the rest of my life locked in an Arnovian prison, a traitor to my country. Though I daresay neither is worse than I deserve.

  ‘I’d hoped to travel further East, but I don’t have the money. I thought of selling my plane, but it’s risky – it might draw the attention of the Fraternitas. So for now, yes, I believe I will stay here. Perhaps I may find some work and save a little, so I can travel onwards.’

  ‘We may be able to help you there,’ suggested Nakamura quietly. ‘You know about aeroplanes – perhaps there may be some work at the Aero Club?’

  The Count nodded, but he looked defeated. Sophie did not envy him the prospect of staying in St Petersburg, jumping at every noise and every shadow, watching and waiting for a Fraternitas agent to catch up with him. But what else could he do?

  ‘Let’s go to the bank now, before it closes,’ she said, eager to have the notebook in her hands at last. ‘And then why don’t you stay here tonight? It may be safer for you. Vera, our landlady, has a spare room, and there’s always plenty of supper to go around.’

  ‘We could talk more about the Aero Club,’ Nakamura suggested. ‘And I’m working on some new aeroplane designs – I’d like to have your input, if you’re interested?’

  ‘Thank you,’ said the Count, gruff but grateful. ‘I believe I should like that.’

  They set out to the bank shortly afterwards. The Count’s face grew paler as they approached, and she saw that even Nakamura, who had insisted on accompanying them, was glancing sharply around as if anticipating trouble.

  Inside, it only took a few short moments for the Count to withdraw the brown paper parcel from his safe deposit box. For a few moments, he hesitated, as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to give it up – but then he took a deep breath and gently placed the parcel into Sophie’s hands.

  Her fingers closed around the rustling brown paper. Lifting a small corner of the wrappings, she glimpsed a notebook so very ordinary-looking that for a moment, she thought it must be a mistake. Just a battered old composition book, with a marbled cover. It looked more like a school exercise book than a secret document.

  ‘We should go,’ said the Count anxiously.

  Outside, Nakamura hailed them a cab, and they made haste to scramble in, Sophie’s hand wrapped tightly around the parcel in her pocket. She did not feel quite safe until they were back inside the pink house – the heavy front door closed firmly behind them.

  That night, after the Count had been safely installed in one of Vera’s spare bedrooms, Sophie stayed awake for a long time, looking at the notebook. She sat up in bed, leaning back against the pillows, carefully turning over the pages. It seemed so extraordinary that she had it in her hands at last – it gave her a rather strange, shivery feeling to examine its pages by the light of the flickering candle. They were scribbled all over with strange writing: although she knew something about cracking codes, like the Count, she found it mostly indecipherable. Yet there were fragments she could understand: here a scribbled note on the origins of the Fraternitas Draconum, written in English; there a translation from an old document in what looked like Latin. And then there was the diagram the Count had talked about – an intricate illustration of the spyglass:

  She pored over it for hours, and it was very late when she at last slipped the notebook carefully under her pillow and blew out her candle. But even in the dark, she felt too excited to sleep. She’d done something that she had never even dreamed would be possible: she’d travelled across Europe by aeroplane, she’d found Count von Wilderstein, and now at last she had the secret notebook too.

  There was such a lot to think about. Should she leave St Petersburg at once, and take the notebook straight back to the Bureau? Or should she per
haps stay and have the spyglass made at Rivière’s? There wouldn’t be many people that could craft such a device, but she knew Boris would be able to do it. At last she made up her mind: she would write to the Chief, explaining everything and asking him what she should do next. In the meantime, she’d go about her business as usual. She’d wrap the notebook up again and lock it securely in the big safe at Rivière’s – which must certainly be one of the safest places in St Petersburg, perhaps even more secure than the bank.

  She smiled in the dark. Whatever the Chief’s instructions, she knew she’d soon be back in London with Lil and the others. Back at Sinclair’s, in the wonderfully familiar offices of Taylor & Rose, and then all this would seem like an extraordinary dream. She’d been working undercover since Paris, trying on different names and different identities, but soon she could be herself once again. She’d be sad to say farewell to St Petersburg, and to Vera and Boris of course – but it would be such a relief to be Sophie Taylor once more, and to be back amongst the people and places she knew. She wrapped her hand carefully around the notebook under her pillow, and at last she fell asleep.

  The next morning she was up at dawn, writing her letter to the Chief. But once it was safely delivered to the Embassy, she knew she would have to wait a while for his response. Even when they were sent via diplomatic bag, it took a while for messages to get through. Yet this time the Chief’s answer came within a matter of days, in the form of a telegram. It was short and very simple:

  Sophie grinned. She knew exactly what the Chief meant. He’d given her the go ahead to have the spyglass made, and he wanted her to bring it back to London as soon as possible.

  At Rivière’s the next morning, she slipped through into the workshop to find Boris.

  ‘I’ve got another commission for you,’ she began, reaching in her pocket for the diagram, which she had carefully copied from the notebook. ‘It’s for that customer again, the one who ordered the dragon brooch. It’s something a bit more unusual this time – it’s rather urgent and it has to be a secret.’