“My friend,” Wesley attempted to sooth the monk, “if you return to the library later today, you will find that Rasputin has plans for you, too. You are just pawns to him. I don’t know what his game is, but I’m sure he doesn’t intend to keep you two around.”
“But we swore an oath of secrecy.”
“Yes, but he didn’t.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
A few hours later, Wesley was aboard a ship headed for New York. The two monks boarded another ship bound for South America and Brazil. Their pockets were bulging with money. They intended to start a company which exported products to America. Wesley had skimmed an additional sum of the money from the diamond sale for his trip from New York to Virginia.
This time, as he stood at the rail, he was leaving a port instead of arriving. He had much to think about. He had helped the now hated Rasputin to retrieve an all-powerful artifact that could change the world. He pondered the impact. He and Gabriel had personally destroyed a racist society and killed the leader. He had also promised Mary Beth York sanctuary. But would she actually go to America? In the course of saving many lives, he had changed the culture of an African tribe. What would be the long-term impact? He had saved two monks from sure death and had given them new hope. Finally, he surmised, he had information about a power that was unrivaled on Earth. He also knew the diamond had infected him. There didn’t seem to be any additional side effects, but he could now understand any language. As he stood at the rail of the steamer, all the people around him seemed to speak English. How long will this last? he mused. He also knew his greatest desire could not be stopped. He intended to learn more about the Black Diamond and to track it down. He had already decided to be the caretaker of the diamond. All he had to do was get it back.
Chapter Thirty-Three
It was now the late summer of 1904. Wesley had taken his time in returning to Charlottesville, Virginia. After the Atlantic crossing, he had dallied in New York and now was the proud owner of a large bank account with a prestigious firm on Wall Street. He had traded the last tribal diamonds with jewel merchants on the Lower East Side of Manhattan to fund his account. He then spent several months visiting the museums and libraries of New York in hopes of finding new information about the Black Diamond. His searches were for naught.
He had abandoned his quest to write a novel about his adventures. He had realized about a week into his voyage that he was good at writing detailed notes, but not good at writing a compelling story. He did, however, continue to update and complete his diary, which he kept with him at all times during his travels in the hope of adding new chapters.
A horse and carriage had delivered him to his small but very comfortable cottage just outside of the Charlottesville city limits. He had inherited the cottage, built in 1870, from his mother, who had also taught at the university and had instilled in Wesley the desire to study history. A widow, she had suddenly died while working in the small garden located in the backyard of the house. Wesley was just eighteen then and had to learn to fend for himself. He had never ventured into the garden, and it now was seven years overgrown. He had decided on his voyage back to America that he would hire a gardener to tend to the entire property and restore his mother’s beloved garden.
The small estate looked beautiful in the mid-morning light. He marveled at the six large elm trees which bordered the front of the property. He studied the pockets of rhododendron and azaleas, the unkempt, but lush lawn, and the very green ivy that all but entrapped the small brick house. This was his home, but he wondered if things should change in his life.
Wesley had come to understand that he was now rich, had extraordinary language skills, and a great desire to learn about the Black Diamond. He wondered how he could use these gifts to better humanity. He considered this question for many months. But a greater question nagged at him. Was he located in the best place to take advantage of his needs? Sure, he could update the cottage, add central heating, acquire a phone, and even purchase an automobile. Technology could greatly advance his lifestyle. But his desire to learn was outweighing the benefits of the creature comforts of his home.
His first decision was to not resolve the question, at least not for now. He longed to be back at school, teaching classes, and doing more research. He needed time to recover from the madness of his adventures. He needed to figure out how to find the Black Diamond.
As a result of his non-decision, Wesley set about the task of spending some of his new found money. His first trip to town was to buy an automobile. Actually, he had to go to Richmond to find a dealership. The automobile was a new commodity and was scarce. The two-day journey by carriage to Richmond took him only four hours to return. The auto gave him the freedom to travel, even though there were few paved roads in 1904.
Once back home, Wesley hired a plethora of craftsmen to upgrade his cottage. It took them several months to finish, but Wesley didn’t care. He now could walk through his mother’s garden, eyeing the delicate colors of the flowers. He began to ready himself for a return to college life.
School started in September. Wesley was assigned two classes in Balkan history and one in ancient languages. His students noticed a difference in his teaching. He spoke as if he had been a spectator to the events that were required studies. His enthusiasm bubbled over to the lectures, and soon there were more students than seats. This of course delighted the professor. His reputation on campus grew, and he became well known for his positions on human rights and injustice. People asked his advice and council on a variety of topics, including supremacy. He found himself in coffee shops, talking politics and history. He was in rapture.
During the winter break in December 1904, Wesley piled into his automobile and went to the post office to retrieve his mail. He had submitted his resume to several universities in the big cities of Chicago, Boston, and New York. He reasoned that if he decided to move, these cities offered the best chance for research.
His car was open like a carriage and he was chilled to the bone by the time he reached the center of town and the post office. His main goal was to get warm in the building while reading his mail. There were several letters on this trip. This surprised Wesley, since he knew few people who would write to him.
The first two letters were from Columbia University in New York and from The University of Chicago. Both were delighted to accept Wesley on their faculty. Both asked when he could transfer. Wesley was thrilled.
The third letter was ominous. The return address was Cape Town, South Africa. The name “York” was written in the upper left hand corner. Beth Ann, he breathed. With great anticipation, he tore open the envelope and unfolded a short letter.
Dear Mr. Wayne,
I am writing you to inform you that Mary Beth will not be coming to America. Since the uprising at a local farmhouse where the leader of a white supremacy group was killed, there has been a crackdown on native South Africans. Mary Beth was caught attempting to leave the country. Since she knew the leader, she became a suspect and was sent to a detention camp in the north. There she contracted a disease that took her life in September.
I know you promised to help her, and I thank you for that. She was always full of joy—remember her that way.
Sincerely,
Your friend, Harold York
Wesley slumped to the floor. His mind staggered at the realization that he had a hand in her death. His senses shut down as he splayed on the floor in a catatonic state. In his attempt to help someone he thought he could love, he had caused her demise. He had tried to not think of her since his return, but he had actually started many plans to seduce her to stay with him. He had expected her to come to him. Now she was gone. The emptiness that filled him was beyond his understanding.
“Sir, sir, are you alright?” the postal clerk inquired. He had seen Wesley drop to the floor and had rushed to help him.
At first, Wesley didn’t reply. He was lost in intense thoughts of death, destruction, and sadness. Finally he looked up wi
th glazed-over eyes and responded. “What…did you say something?”
“Did you slip?” the clerk asked.
“Yes, yes, of course. Help me up.”
“You dropped your letters,” the clerk pointed out. “I’ll get them for you.”
“No,” roared Wesley. “I’ll get them myself.”
He collected his mail from the floor and staggered to the door. The drive back to his cottage was surreal. He couldn’t hold back the tears that froze on his face, making the driving even more difficult. Every bump in the road, every bounce of the carriage strained his sanity. He was a complete emotional wreck by the time he returned home. He went straight to bed and remained there for a whole day. He had only known her a few hours, but she had affected him dramatically. Or was it the effects of the diamond?
The always-rational professor had fallen off the ledge.
He spent several days in denial. He ate little and tried to sleep, but he was attacked by nightmares of Mary Beth’s demise. Anger soon filled his mood. He wanted to get even for his loss. He once again began to think about the Black Diamond. If he could find it, he could gain the power of a superman and go back to Africa. He could kill all the people responsible for her death. But what would he do then?
The rational and analytical part of his brain began to regain control. After a few days his anger had subsided. The Black Diamond was the real cause of everything bad. He needed to find it and prevent others from facing his issues. But he didn’t know where it was. Rasputin had it last, but had he already destroyed himself and maybe others?
Within a week, Wesley was back to being somewhat normal. He returned to his classes and planned a new life. His focus was finding the diamond and protecting it. He knew it would surface again. This time he needed to be ready to take it. When it appeared, he reasoned that there would be articles and news stories in the newspapers. But Charlottesville was off the media mainline. He needed to be near the action. The center of media activity was New York. He decided to accept the position offered by Columbia University. He could scour the papers every day to find the diamond.
Chapter Thirty-Four
He decided to keep his house in Virginia. He thought he would probably return once he found the Black Diamond. He was not unhappy there, but for now he needed to be close to the information available in New York. So in the spring of 1905, he packed a few bags and began the long drive to New York.
He rented an apartment on Eighty-Ninth Street near West End Avenue. It was a short ride to the university and offered many amenities. It was also only forty blocks to the main library on Forty-Second Street. There he could read many newspapers every day, including Russian newspapers, although they would be two weeks old. There was also a large Russian population in New York, and Wesley vowed to befriend some who had ties to the Mother Land.
He taught Russian and Balkan history at Columbia. He found he could read any language, as well as understand the many dialects. This made him very successful. Students once again flocked to his lectures, and many brought news.
One student was a niece of Alexandria, Czarist of Russia, and wife of Czar Nicholas II. Alexandria was actually of German and English decent. Her Grandmother was Queen Victoria of England. The niece, Olga, a German, had lived with her aunt for many years in Russia, but had come to New York to finish her education at Columbia University. The czarist wrote Olga letters once a week. When Wesley became aware of the letters, he sought out Olga. They met at a coffee shop every week to discuss Russian politics.
“So what is the news from Russia?” Wesley asked as he slid into the seat across from Olga, spilling some of his coffee.
“We have wonderful news,” the animated Olga gushed. She was tall and robust. Although only in her early twenties, she appeared much older. She had long blonde hair and a European figure with many curves. But it was her eyes that caught the most attention. They were a deep blue and contrasted with her pale completion. Wesley liked her, but not with any romantic feelings.
“And what would your wonderful news be?” Wesley spoke as he sipped his too hot coffee.
“My cousin, Alexei, is much better,” she replied.
“That is good news,” the professor acknowledged. Alexei, the only son of the czar, had a bleeding problem somewhat common to European royalty. Any bump or bruise would bleed and not stop. Alexei was often bedridden for weeks. No one at the time knew the disease had come from his great-grandmother, Queen Victoria of England, and was called hemophilia.
“Yes, it is. Auntie has found a wonderful faith healer and psychic who had amazing results in treating Alexei. Isn’t it wonderful?”
Wesley was aware that the Russian culture was steeped in superstition and faith. The Orthodox Church was a main proponent of faith through prayer. “Has he had any medical advice?”
“Auntie wrote there is no need now that the strannik has arrived in St. Petersburg.”
Wesley was only half-paying attention until Olga said strannik. “A religious pilgrim, you say. Like a wandering monk?” he asked a little too quickly.
“How did you know?” Olga replied as she tilted her head and considered his question.
Wesley’s pulse had already quickened. He blurted out the next question. “What’s his name?”
“Grigori Rasputin. He just showed up at the palace and offered to heal Alexei. He also has a huge black diamond that he uses in many of his sermons. It’s just like one that czarist owns.”
“Is he still in St. Petersburg?” The very thought that he had suddenly found the trail to the Black Diamond made Wesley ask the question abruptly.
“Why, yes,” she replied. “He now lives near the summer palace, but wanders all over Russia and Siberia. She says he is gone for months at a time. She says he helps heal many people, but he returns to St. Petersburg to attend to Alexei whenever he is bleeding.”
“Tell your aunt the man is dangerous. She must detain him. I must go to Russia to stop him.”
“Wait, do you know something about Rasputin?” Olga was now very nervous. She wondered how Wesley could possibly know him.
“I know enough to expose him. He is a very ambitious person who would do anything to achieve his goals.”
“Oh my God,” Olga covered her mouth with her knuckle.
“Can you get me an audience with the czar?”
“Of course, he is my uncle, but I’m going with you. I need to understand what is happening to my family. We will need to get papers to visit the country and to get into the palace.”
“Olga, this is very important. Rasputin is possessed with an evil stronger than anything on Earth. He has plans to change Russia forever. He must be stopped.”
“But he has helped Alexei.” Olga was very protective of her cousin and wanted no harm done to him.
“I’m afraid it’s only a ploy to get into the circle of power in Russian society. His goal is to exert pressure on the monarchy and make radical changes in Russia. I know. I have had dealings with the ‘Mad Monk’ while he was on a pilgrimage.”
“Now that you mention it, he seems to have some kind of mystical power over Auntie. She said as much in her last letter. I hope you’re wrong, but I’ll get us the papers. It’ll take about a week. Let’s meet here a week from now.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
It was mid-June in 1906. Wesley sat in his luxury apartment in Manhattan, sipping a bottled beer and making notes for his classes. It had been several days since his discussion with Olga, and he was pondering what he would do when he got to St. Petersburg and confronted Rasputin. It was clear the monk had handled the Black Diamond and had gained some powers. What were those powers?
In his diary, Wesley wrote:
Mystical, faith healer, psychic, and influence dealer. These all point to a desire to be recognized as a leader. Is Rasputin’s greatest desire to be a leader? Is it to have influence over other leaders? He had stated that he wanted to improve society for Russians. But what Russians did he refer to—peasants, church,
or the monarchy? Who does he intend to help? What other powers does he possess? All these questions need to be answered if I am to defeat Rasputin and regain the Black Diamond. Where is the weakness? What can I exploit to gain control? How can I wrestle the diamond from him?
He knew he had to have a plan before he entered Russia. Rasputin would remember him, and Wesley already knew the monk was not above trickery and even murder. Russia was also his home ground, and many thought of the monk as a respected religious leader, included some of the monarchy. But Wesley also knew he had to do something. His greatest desire was to protect the Black Diamond. He must succeed.
His reverie was broken by the telephone. He had recently installed one, and only a few people knew his number. Who is this? he mused.
“Hello, Adam Wesley speaking.”
“Adam, it’s Olga,” she announced with a slight German accent. Then before he could respond, she charged forward. “I have very bad news from Russia.”
“And what bad news do you bring?” His senses had already told him it had something to do with the hated Rasputin.
“It’s about our trip,” she answered in a voice full of tension and anxiety.
“It’s been delayed?” Wesley guessed.
“No, worse.”
“Tell me everything,” Wesley coolly responded.
“It’s Rasputin. You were right. He’s trying to change everything. I’m very concerned…scared, really. There’s nothing we can do He’s too powerful.” Olga was rambling, and Wesley needed to get her on track.
“What’s happened? Tell me exactly.”
“We both have been blacklisted. We can’t get visas to Russia. Rasputin has called us ‘subversives,’ enemies of the state. I can never return to visit my Auntie. This is so wrong.”
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