Colton Banyon Mysteries 1-3: Colton Banyon Mysteries (Colton Banyon Mystery Book 20)

by Gerald J Kubicki

  “You need the spiritual healing that only I can provide. I want to save your soul, my dear. The Orthodox Church demands it.” He spoke with the red fire in his eyes Wesley remembered.

  “It’s not your faith-healing spirit, but your hands that want access,” she spat back at him.

  “Perhaps another time then,” he quickly replied and dismissed her. He now turned to Wesley.

  “So you are now a cultural attaché for the U.S. government. How quaint. We should sit down and discuss cultural things, Professor Wesley.”

  “You should keep a few bodyguards with you when we do meet,” Wesley sarcastically replied.

  Ignoring the comment, Rasputin started to walk toward a door in the hall. “Come along,” he coaxed.

  They were soon ushered into a small library off the great hall. Kara was asked to stay outside. Rasputin immediately displayed a bottle of vodka and two glasses. He motioned for Wesley to sit.

  “Now we must drink to the past.”

  “You tried to kill me,” Wesley spat back.

  “You were in no danger. Those monks were very afraid of you. I knew they would not succeed. I only wanted to delay you so that Brother Ivan and I could leave. I am a man of the Church.”

  “And how is Brother Ivan?”

  “He, unfortunately, is no longer with us. It seems he got involved with the wrong crowd and one day just disappeared.”

  “I’m shocked,” Wesley sarcastically replied. “Where is the Black Diamond?”

  “Ah…you Americans are so direct and to the point. I have it right here in my pocket.” Rasputin produced the pouch and twirled it around on his finger. Wesley wanted to smash him in the face and take it, but he relented.

  “I understand you have been making good use of it. There are many people who see you as a problem because of the way you are using the powers.”

  “What powers? The diamond lost its powers a few years ago. It is just a black diamond now.”

  “What?” Wesley replied as he sat up in his chair

  “I no longer need it anyway,” Rasputin added. “I have secured my position in the government, and I am accomplishing all that I have desired. My only meager need is to help the people of Russia.”

  “You mean it no longer affects people?”

  “It’s just a valuable stone now,” he replied with a shake of his head. “I’m going to sell it and use the money to help my friends.”

  “Which friends do you mean? Would those friends be the communists I’ve been learning about?”

  “We’re working to improve the conditions of my people. They are helping. The monarchy will understand.” He waved his hand as if to dismiss the subject, but Wesley pressed on.

  “You’re helping to create chaos when there needs to be order. There is a war going on in Europe. Russia needs to be strong to fight the Germans.”

  “The war means nothing to me. Only my people are important.”

  “If Germany invades, you would be one of the first they’ll kill,” Wesley replied vehemently.

  “But I am invincible.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I few months ago, a woman named Khionia Guseva tried to assassinate me. She stabbed me in the stomach with a knife made of whalebone. I had my entrails in my hands, but I have completely recovered. The Black Diamond has made it impossible for anyone to harm me.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Wesley left the monk sitting in the room and headed back to the exhibit area. His meeting with Rasputin had stunned and frightened him. He figured Anna must have managed to switch the diamonds. But it meant she had to have been very close to the Mad Monk. He was sure of that, but where was it? He had also learned that Rasputin had retained the powers of the Black Diamond even after it was no longer in his possession, just as Wesley had. He had many entries to make in his diary. But first he needed to find Kara.

  As he walked the hall, he pondered his conversation with the Mad Monk. Some of the Russian gentry had bestowed the title to him based on his belief in faith healing. Many in Russia longed for modernization, and faith healing was not modern—medicine was. Rasputin was most certainly insane and now believed no one could harm him. The monk had continued to point out that he served the people and was a high ranking member of the Russian Orthodox Church, and no one, including Wesley, had anything to fear from him. He had then dismissed Wesley with a wave of his hand. Wesley was only too happy to be away from the madman.

  Wesley finally spotted her in the back corner of the hall. She was in an animated conversation with the stern man from the front door. Wesley was sure he was with the secret police. He also realized she was reporting on the monk, and maybe him, too. As he approached he tried to hear what was being said, but the hall was too noisy.

  “Kara,” he smiled. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

  She turned toward him with a red face of embarrassment. “Adam, we were just talking about you. This is Sergeant Orlov,” she offered with a wave of her hand.

  Sergeant Orlov immediately asked a pointed question. “What were you discussing with Rasputin?” He had produced a notebook and pencil and got ready to write.

  “Don’t worry. I want nothing to do with him. I had met him in 1902 in the Mid-East and needed him to clear up a misunderstanding.”

  “Stay away from him,” Sergeant Orlov ordered. “He and his friends are trouble. He is under constant surveillance.”

  “Thank you for the advice, Sergeant. I shall heed your warning,” Wesley nodded in acknowledgement.

  After their conversation with the secret police, Kara then led Wesley to a small alcove and they were seated at a table. She was visibly shaken, and he gave her time to recover before he asked his questions.

  “If everyone hates the monk, why is he still in power?”

  “I’ve already told you,” she exclaimed. She was near tears and threw up her hands in frustration. “Besides, it’s Anna you’re after. I know, she told me you would come.”

  “When did she tell you this?”

  “Just before she was arrested. We’re cousins, you know. We were very close, but now I can’t even speak of her anymore. It’s forbidden. So many bad things have happened to us. And now you arrive. When will it end?”

  “You must tell me where she is,” the excitement was clearly in his voice.

  “I cannot,” she whispered in despair. “If the secret police find out, then I’ll also be sent to a gulag. I’m too afraid.”

  “Anna and I have unfinished business. The business is bigger than you and me or even Rasputin. He was the one who sent her away, right?”

  “She, like me, has had to deal with his sexual appetite. I think he stole the diamond and blamed it on her.”

  ***

  It was late in the same evening. Wesley sat at his little desk in his somewhat warm bathroom. He updated his diary and set about the task of finding Anna. He knew gulags were forced labor camps, and all were located past the Ural Mountains in a place known as Siberia. The camps were usually located along the great Trans-Siberian Railway system which ran all the way to the Pacific Ocean from Moscow. He knew how to get to Moscow.

  After Kara had left the Hermitage that evening, Wesley had hung around and talked to as many people as possible. Whenever he brought up the word gulag, everyone made an excuse and left his company. Clearly the people of Russia were afraid of the gulags. So how would he find her?

  He had also received a message, but didn’t know where it had come from. When he was undressing, he came across a note in his suit jacket pocket. The note simply said, “Meet me tonight at midnight” and gave an address of a café. He wondered if this was a trap, but he decided to go anyway.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  The Café Volga was near the embassy. His name was John Scales. He was a captain in the British army and was assigned to the British Embassy in St. Petersburg. Wesley had expected that the British would contact him, but not so soon. His coordinator back in New York had told him
as much. They greeted each other with a polite handshake and now sat sipping weak coffee and watching everyone around them. There could be spies anywhere in Russia.

  Scales finally broke the ice. “Well, old chap, I understand you’ve had relationship with this Rasputin fellow.”

  “I wouldn’t call it that. The man tried to kill me many years ago. He now claims it was a joke.”

  “He does have a way with words; they get all twisted and in the end mean nothing.”

  “He has much influence with the monarchy.”

  “We know. He’s been trying to stop the Russia war effort. If Russia pulls out of the war, it will be hard on the rest of us. Do you think he’s working for the Germans?”

  “No, he works only for himself. I’m sure of that.”

  “So you have no objections to the elimination of him?” Scales was feeling Wesley out.

  “He’ll be hard to kill.”

  “We know—we’ve tried to eliminate him already.”

  “Ah…the woman with the knife.” Wesley recalled his conversation with the monk. “The knife wasn’t metal, was it?”

  “Actually it was made of a whale bone. She used it as a tie for her hair.” He paused a minute. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious, but he didn’t die.”

  “Yes, somehow he recovered. Now he has his own bodyguards, and the secret police are watching him, too. A well placed bullet is next for him.”

  Wesley knew he had to say something. “I think you should poison him. It’s the most effective way to stop him.”

  “We need to isolate him first. That could take some time. When we do take care of him, you’ll need to be far away. By now everyone knows you’ve had a prior relationship with Rasputin. Reprisals will be swift and final. We’ll let you know when the event will occur.”

  “Thank you,” replied Wesley as he sipped his coffee. “You seem to be well informed, Mr. Scales.”

  “My time here has not been wasted. I’ve made many contacts; it only takes a little money in this godforsaken country.”

  “What do you think of the communist movement?” Wesley asked off-hand.

  “Most of the leaders have been living in England for years. They are very popular with the people of Russia. They preach equality, but practice terrorism. A scary lot they are. They have a strong foothold in Russia. We need to keep them at bay until the war is over. Then, who cares what these radicals do to Russia? There’s nothing here but snow, anyway.”

  “I have another question,” Wesley blurted out. “Can you find out anything about a woman named Anna Van Kleef? I knew her many years ago, and now she has disappeared.”

  Scales raised an eyebrow. “Many people just disappear in modern Russia. Sometimes it’s hard to know which side anybody is on.”

  “But I’m only looking for one person. She used to be the protector of the crown jewels. Kara is her cousin.”

  “We do know who Anna is. She was very popular with the diplomatic crowd. I also know where she was sent, but she may be dead by now. She was sent to a work camp. They literally work people to death in those camps. There are no laws inside the camp. Women are treated equally, meaning they do the same work as men and often live in the same huts as men, the men outnumbering the women by ten to one. I think you know what that means.”

  “Yes, unfortunately I do. But where have they sent her?”

  “She’s in the gulag in Kolyma. The town is past the Urals.”

  ***

  Later, Wesley was back at his desk in the bathroom of his suite. He was excited and determined. He wasn’t sure if his excitement had to do with learning where Anna was sent or if finding her meant he had a lead on the Black Diamond. He poured over maps and travel logs, attempting to learn everything that was written about Kolyma. He had to go there, and he had to have a reason to go there. The Russian state didn’t allow anyone to just catch a train to the East.

  He was happy to have made a good contact with the British agent, Scales. The man was very well informed and had been in Russia for over a year. They had exchanged phone numbers and agreed to share information about the monk and the communists.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  It was late in June of 1916. Wesley stared at the bleak countryside. He calculated that the train was somewhere past the Ural Mountains in Siberia. Even in the height of summer, the land east of the Urals was wild and desolate. The train had been traveling for three days and required another day to reach Kolyma. Wesley had little to do but watch the monotonous scenery stream past his window. He had to share a cabin with a man who was too controlled to be a farmer. He claimed he was visiting his brother in Kolyma. Wesley was sure he was with the secret police and was sent to spy on him. Wesley had decided to not give him any information whatsoever and kept his satchel on his lap while trying to sleep as much as possible.

  It had taken Wesley several months to arrange the trip. The ambassador had been his usual uncooperative self, but with the proper threats and a phone call from the president, he had acquiesced and had ordered the proper papers from the Russian government. Wesley had simply told him that he wanted to explore several artifacts in Kolyma. When the ambassador had asked why, Wesley had replied that the president would tell him—or not.

  Wesley’s’ reverie was broken when he realized the farmer/secret agent was attempting to talk to him.

  “Why are you headed for Kolyma?” he blurted out.

  “I never said I was going to Kolyma,” Wesley replied evenly.

  Ignoring the comment, the agent continued. “I can help you find the place where you are going. Give me the address,” he all but ordered.

  “Sorry, it’s official U.S. Embassy business.”

  “It is a very dangerous town, this Kolyma. Bad things can happen there very quickly,” the agent threatened.

  “That is why I’m not telling anyone anything.”

  The train pulled into the station shortly after noon a day later. Wesley had not said another word during the trip. He spent his time wondering about Anna—what she would look like. What should he say to her, and most of all, where was the Black Diamond?

  His cabin mate had sulked and was clearly upset that he had not been clever enough to glean Wesley’s destination. As Wesley left the train, he realized the station and the town off in the distance were small. Everything was made of the abundant wood from the massive forests in the region. Mud was everywhere. Wesley had read that the ground was usually frozen in Siberia, but for a few months in the summer the hot sun melted some of the top layer, resulting in massive amounts of mud. He had been warned to wear boots.

  As he secured his single suitcase from the luggage area, he glanced over his shoulder and noted the oaf agent was getting ready to follow him. Wesley, who was a trained spy, smiled.

  Losing the oaf would be fun. But first he had to find the hotel. There was a taxi line in front of the station. Wesley entered a taxi and gave the driver the address of the hotel. The driver made a rookie mistake, lingering too long as he inspected his passenger. Wesley knew this was a technique used by spies to memorize a face. The driver was also a spy. No matter, thought Wesley, I’m only going to the hotel.

  The clerk in the hotel was sullen and demanded the proper papers be presented. He had called Wesley by name even before he looked at the documents. Wesley now realized that someone was attempting to keep a short rope on him. He would have no privacy in his room, and when he was out, his room would be visited like a train station with several people rifling through his possessions. This country was seriously paranoid.

  After napping and refreshing himself with a bath, Wesley secured his important travel documents in his suit and left everything else, including his companion-like satchel on the bed. He wondered how efficient and subtle the spies would be in examining his possessions. Would they put his possessions back or just leave them tossed all over the room? He left the map, with directions for the church he intended to visit, as cover, in his bags. His initial plan was sim
ple.

  He walked out the front door of the hotel and immediately noticed a woman pulling a child down the street. He walked up to her and produced some money. He asked her where he could find the church. She began to point frantically down the street, eager to take his money. Wesley noted two men now—the oaf and the taxi driver. Both had steady eyes on the woman. He thanked her, gave her the money, and then set off to a coffee shop a block up the street.

  He decided to order some food and watch the watchers. As soon as they saw that food was being served, one left immediately and entered the hotel. The other one quickly grabbed the woman by the arm and pulled her into the shadows. Wesley was now sure they were not well trained and would fall for his ruse. He dropped some money and disappeared.

  He actually knew where he was going, having memorized the location. He now wore a cap and a topcoat, both purchased after leaving the restaurant. He wasn’t going to the church. The spies would stake out the church in the hopes of reconnecting with their prey. Since there were only two of them, Wesley was pretty sure he would be alone. Nonetheless, he kept a watchfully eye on the way to the gulag.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  His destination was the Kolyma Gulag located on the edge of town. The sentry posted at the gate may have been an agent for the secret police as well, but his small office was inundated with women, children, and old people demanding to see some loved ones. Many had bags of food and clothing. Some young women were there to provide comfort in any way they could. Desperation and despair hung in the air.

  Wesley stood patiently in line. He had bought some food at the kiosks that fringed the camp. He had also bought a warm sweater. He appeared like everyone else, anxious to see a loved one. It was midday when he finally reached the entrance. The sentry demanded papers, but settled for a hundred-ruble note. The administrative system in Russia was both paranoid and corrupt.