‘Dr Fine!’
‘Thank you for remembering me, sir.’
‘You are the very man I wish to see,’ Colin said.
‘Indeed, sir? I hope no one is ill at the mansion.’
‘Not to my knowledge. May I ask your business?’
Fine looked astonished; he was not used to being addressed in such civil terms by a Bolugayevski. ‘Why, Your Highness, I came to see you.’
‘Did you, now. Concerning what?’
Fine licked his lips. ‘I had hoped, sir, that being an English gentleman, you might be sympathetic towards the situation of my people.’
‘Ah. Well, I am prepared to listen. You’ll come in and breakfast with me, doctor.’
Fine looked more astonished yet. ‘You are most kind, Your Highness.’
‘Now tell me,’ Colin said, as they walked their horses into the mansion yard. ‘How is the woman Jennie Cromb?’
‘I do not know, sir. I am afraid she is probably not very well. Those fellows are devils. And a pretty woman...my heart bleeds for her.’
Colin drew rein. ‘What are you talking about? Which fellows?’
‘Why, sir, the police,’ Fine also halted his horse. Colin stared at him. ‘Is Mademoiselle Cromb not in your village?’
‘Why, no, sir. There is no reason for her to be.’
‘But she was in your village?’
‘No, sir. She was handed over to the police on the afternoon of the late Prince’s death, so far as I know.’ ‘Who did this?’ Colin spat out the words.
‘Why...the Princess Bolugayevska, I imagine, Your Highness. But...’
Colin slid from the saddle and threw his reins to the groom who came hurrying up. Igor came out of the house to bow to his master, and Colin stamped past him, heedless of the gathering pain in his shoulder. He went up the stairs to the gallery, turned towards his apartment, and encountered Dagmar, fully dressed, just emerging from the doorway.
‘Why, Colin,’ she said, ‘I did not expect you back so soon.’ Then she frowned. ‘What has happened? You have had a fall!’
Colin stood in front of her. ‘You sent Jennie Cromb to the police? I wish the truth.’
Dagmar’s features tightened. ‘And I think you have overtired yourself by your foolish exertion,’ she said. ‘Come and lie down.’
‘I wish the truth. Now!’ Colin said.
‘You are making an exhibition of yourself, in front of the servants,’ Dagmar said. ‘Now come inside.’
‘The truth!’ Colin shouted. ‘I am tired of lies. You have lied to me, one way or another, from the moment of our first meeting. Now I wish to know, where is Jennie Cromb?’
‘You dare to shout at me?’ Dagmar exploded, and moved her right hand. Colin had no idea whether she had been going to strike him or not, but his own reaction was instantaneous, driven by long pent up anger and frustration. His good right hand still held his riding crop, and before he understood what he was doing he had whipped it across her shoulders, from whence it rode up to slash into her face. Dagmar gave a shriek, and fell to her hands and knees.
‘I will deal with you, properly, when I return from Poltava,’ Colin said, and went to the stairs.
‘You bastard!’ Dagmar shrieked; blood was dribbling from her split cheek. ‘You...come back here!’ Colin ignored her. Dagmar scrambled to her feet and ran to the balustrade. ‘Stop him!’ she screamed.
Colin gazed at the servants as he went down the stairs. Igor looked as if he would have obeyed his mistress, then saw the expression in Colin’s eyes and stepped back into the throng. ‘Stop him!’ Dagmar shrieked again, but still no one moved. She had told them all he was their master.
Colin went outside, where Fine waited. He had dismounted, but the groom still held both their horses. ‘You’ll come with me,’ Colin told the doctor.
Fine mounted. ‘You did not know of this, Your Highness?’
‘I did not know of it,’ Colin said. ‘I was told the woman was with you.’
*
They rode in silence until the walls of the city were in sight. Then Fine observed, ‘The police are a law unto themselves, Your Highness.’
‘Their law does not affect the Prince Bolugayevski,’ Colin said. He was endeavouring to keep calm, not to give way to the fury in his heart. If Jennie lived, he would save her. If she was dead, he would avenge her. He did not care what might happen afterwards.
They rode to the governor’s palace, and attracted no attention. Even the majordomo at the palace door had no idea who sought the governor, although he could recognise the quality of Colin’s clothes. ‘You have a card, Your Excellency?’
‘No, I do not have a card,’ Colin told him. ‘I am the Prince Bolugayevski.’
‘The Prince...’ The man goggled. ‘His Excellency is in a meeting, Your Highness. I will see...’ He scurried off.
‘He does not seem to believe me,’ Colin said.
Fine was looking nervous, while various footmen stood around uncertainly. A moment later Lebedeff hurried into the hall. ‘Your Highness, what a pleasant surprise. I did not know you were up and about. And you have not even been offered a chair and a glass of wine?’ He looked at Fine in bewilderment.
‘Dr Fine is my personal physician,’ Colin explained. It was Fine’s turn to look bewildered.
‘Ah, doctor,’ Lebedeff said. ‘You’ll come in, Your Highness. And you, doctor. Yes, indeed. Lewitski, wine for our guests. I assume you have breakfasted?’
‘As a matter of fact, no, Baron,’ Colin said. ‘But no matter. I have not the time for that.’
Lebedeff ushered them into a book-lined study.
‘Do you know, Your Highness, I was about to come out to see you? Your letters patent have arrived.’
Colin sat down. ‘So soon? You told me they were unlikely to be here for another month.’
‘Yes. Well, I suspect that with all the unrest in the country following the death of the Tsar and now the fall of Sevastopol, his majesty is anxious to have people he can rely on in positions of authority.’
Colin raised his eyebrows. ‘And he imagines he can rely on me? Someone must have been stretching the truth a little. Does he not know I am English? Or rather, Scottish?’
‘You will have to ask the Princess about that, Your Highness. She was the one who, perhaps, stretched the truth a little. Anyway, your papers are here. I trust you are pleased about that?’
‘Very pleased, Baron. I will assume it makes my immediate task the more simple. Your police are holding one of my people in their cells. I wish her released.’
‘May I ask the name of this person?’
‘Jennie Cromb.’
‘The Englishwoman! Ah. Yes. I understand. However, Your Highness, I must inform you that this woman has made a complete confession of her part in the assassination of your father-in-law.’
‘I have no doubt that she was, shall I say, persuaded to make that confession.’
‘Oh, well, you know what the police are like. But the fact is, she has admitted that it was she who procured the weapon. That makes her an accessory before the fact of the murder, and therefore as guilty as Vassily Bolugayevski himself. They are to be tried together.’
‘Nevertheless,’ Colin said. ‘I wish you to sign an order for her release. I, the Prince Bolugayevski, wish you to do this for me, Baron Lebedeff.’
Lebedeff stroked his moustache, glanced at Fine, and then cleared his throat. ‘It would be very irregular. The woman is a confessed murderess. Of a prince,’ he added, as if suggesting that if Jennie had murdered some lesser person, the matter would be more easily resolved. Lewitski appeared with a tray, decanter and glasses, and poured.
Colin sipped. The alcohol gave him a glow of strength. ‘Has the Prince Bolugayevski not got the power of life or death over his serfs?’
‘Well...within reason.’
‘You mean that if I carelessly murder one or two of them I may have to account for my actions to my peers, who will, of course, exonerate me of any bl
ame in the matter. I should remind you, Your Excellency, that I have the right to hold court on my property, for any crime committed on my property. It was my wife’s decision that this business should be handed over to the police here in Poltava.’
‘Well, the assassination of a prince is hardly a parochial matter, Your Highness.’
‘Yet the right to try the case remains mine.’
‘Well, legally, yes, Your Highness.’
‘Then I am rescinding my wife’s original order. I wish the woman released into my custody immediately.’
‘And the other people who were arrested?’
Colin had only intended to get Jennie out of the hands of the police, whether she was guilty or not. Now he realised that with Dagmar and Vorontsov handling the business, there might well be a good number of innocent people involved. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I will take them all back.’
‘And what of Vassily Bolugayevski?’
Colin hesitated. Vassily was most certainly guilty of murder; he was an eye witness to that. ‘You may keep Vassily, and try him, Your Excellency.’
‘You are most generous, Your Highness,’ Lebedeff said sarcastically.
*
Colonel Vorontsov stood to attention as the Prince Bolugayevski and Dr Fine entered his office. ‘Your Highness! May I be of service?’
‘Yes,’ Colin said, and gave him the governor’s order. Vorontsov frowned as he read it. ‘This is most irregular, Your Highness.’
‘So I believe,’ Colin agreed. ‘Nevertheless, I wish that order implemented. Now.’
‘May I ask if the Princess Bolugayevska authorised this, Your Highness?’
‘Colonel Vorontsov, what my wife may, or may not, choose to authorise is neither here nor there. You have in your hand an order from Baron Lebedeff to release all prisoners held in regard to the murder of the late Prince Bolugayevski into my custody, with the exception of Vassily Bolugayevski. Now, I do not have any people with me, save for Dr Fine. Therefore you will deliver the prisoners to Bolugayen before dusk this evening. Is that understood? However, I will take the woman Jennie Cromb with me now. I wish to see her now, in her cell.’
Vorontsov gulped. ‘You know she is here?’
‘Of course I know she is here, man.’
A puzzled look crossed Vorontsov’s face. Then he seemed to pull himself together. ‘You understand that she has confessed to providing the weapon for Vassily Bolugayevski to kill his father?’
‘I understand that she has made a confession. But you are in the business of securing confessions, are you not, Colonel?’
‘What I am trying to say, Your Highness, is that the woman is a self-confessed accessory before the fact of a murder, and has been treated as such.’
‘I wish to see her, Colonel. Now.’
Vorontsov hesitated, then rang the bell on his desk. An orderly entered. ‘The Prince Bolugayevski wishes to see the prisoner Cromb,’ he said.
‘No, no, Colonel,’ Colin said. ‘I wish you to take me to the prisoner, in her cell.’
Vorontsov licked his lips, then went to the door. ‘If you will accompany me, Your Highness.’
Colin had the impression, when first entering the building, that the very walls seemed impregnated with fear. But as he and Fine followed Vorontsov and the orderly down the steps into the cells, he became aware of a sense of despair. It was compounded of the stench, of the various noises that escaped the cells to either side, of the lumbering figures of the gaolers, one of whom, at an order from Vorontsov, led them into the cell block, carrying a flaring torch. Colin glanced at Fine, and saw that the doctor was as shocked as himself. ‘Are there any of your people in here?’ he asked.
‘I would say so. Even if not from my village,’ the doctor replied.
‘This is something I shall have to look into,’ Colin promised.
They descended another level, and were now in the midst of scurrying rats. There was no daylight down here, and the walls dripped dampness. The orderly was carrying a torch, however, and Vorontsov checked the numbers. ‘One hundred and twelve,’ he said. ‘This one.’
The warder turned the key, with difficulty, and the door swung open, the hinges creaking. Clearly it was not opened very often; there was a small trap next to the floor through which food could be pushed, but exercising the prisoners or allowing them toilet facilities was not something in which the police indulged. Colin stepped inside, checking at the stench. ‘Bring that light,’ he told the orderly.
The torch flared above his head. The woman on the floor was already gathering herself into a trembling ball, shrouded only in her hair; she possessed neither clothes nor any kind of blanket—not even straw. ‘No,’ she muttered. ‘Please, no.’
‘You understand, Your Highness,’ Vorontsov said, ‘that she is here at the express command of your wife. I have disobeyed the Princess: she gave me instructions that the prisoner should die before the trial.’
Colin bent over the bag of trembling bones. ‘The trial is still two weeks off, is it not? I imagine you are on schedule.’ He thrust one arm under Jennie’s knees and another under her shoulders, and straightened, looking at Vorontsov. ‘That I do not kill you, now, Colonel, is that I am conscious you were but obeying my wife’s command. Now get out of my way.’
*
Colin wrapped Jennie in his coat, and carried her to the Bolugayevski Palace in Poltava for Fine to examine. Clearly any kind of travel was out of the question. The servants were astounded to see their Prince arriving unannounced on the doorstep, but they began airing rooms and beds, in one of which Colin laid Jennie. She had done nothing but tremble on the way from the police headquarters, keeping her eyes shut. Now she opened them, gazed at her surroundings, and closed them again. Colin and Fine stood together, looking at the ribs protruding through the flesh, the mere sacks of breasts, the thin legs. ‘Once she had the finest figure in the world,’ Colin said.
‘She will regain her figure, with care,’ Fine said. ‘But the rest...’—he pointed to the bruises, the whip weals on her back and buttocks—’much depends on how capable she was of closing her mind.’
‘It looks pretty closed now,’ Colin said.
‘Yes,’ Fine said. ‘Thus even more depends upon how successful you are in opening it again. To sunlight rather than shadow.’
‘It will be your success,’ Colin told him.
Fine raised his head. ‘She is your sole responsibility as of this moment,’ Colin said. ‘You will stay here, and you will nurse her back to health. But the moment it is possible, I wish her brought out to Bolugayen.’
‘But, Your Highness...’
‘Are you married? I will have your wife come here and keep you company.’
‘My wife is dead, Your Highness. I have a son...’
‘Very well. He will be brought here. Do not fail me in this, doctor. Bring Mademoiselle Cromb back to her full health and you may ask of me what you will. Anatole!’ He called the butler. ‘Do you know who I am?’
‘You are Princess Dagmar’s husband, sir.’
‘Yes, but I am also the Prince Bolugayevski. Remember this. I am returning to Bolugayen, but I will be back shortly. From this moment Dr Fine is in charge here. You will do whatever he commands, supply him with whatever he requires. He has the fullest authority to act in my name in all matters within this building and its grounds. Do you understand me?’
Anatole looked from Colin to Fine and back again. ‘Yes, Your Highness.’
‘Very good. I will be back as soon as I can, doctor, but you understand there are certain things that I must attend to, on the estate.’
Fine nodded, his expression indicating that he wished his new employer luck.
*
Colin was returning to a crisis. But it was a crisis he had no doubt he could resolve. He enjoyed a tremendous sensation of power, together with an equal surge of energy. He had been a prisoner for too long. There was so much he could do, with the power and wealth he had been given. So much that needed to be d
one. So much that would be done. He drew rein at the top of the last hill above the mansion, and looked down at his estate. He had never seen anything so indicative of prosperity. Then he saw the horsemen, waiting, half-way down the hill.
He walked his mount towards them, and identified Smyslov, and Golkov, accompanied by ten of the Black Regiment. ‘You will pardon me, Your Highness,’ Smyslov said as Colin drew near. ‘But I have orders to place you under arrest.’
‘Whose orders?’
‘The Princess Bolugayevska, Your Highness.’
‘I see. And having arrested me, what were you to do with me?’ Colin inquired.
‘Take you to the Princess, Your Highness.’
‘Well, I am going to the mansion in any event. So you will be saved the trouble.’
‘I am afraid I must ask you for your weapons, Your Highness.’
‘I am sorry to disappoint you, Smyslov, but I do not have any weapons.’ Colin opened his coat to let them see for themselves. ‘Unless my crop is so considered.’
Smyslov hesitated, acutely embarrassed. ‘I think not, Smyslov,’ Colin said, and urged his horse forward. The others fell into place behind him, but Smyslov rode beside him.
‘I do beg of you to be careful, Your Highness,’ he said. ‘I have never seen Her Highness in such a mood.’
Colin grinned. ‘I assure you that the mood is going to worsen, Smyslov.’
*
They rode up the drive, and dismounted. Smyslov gestured his people to remain outside while he accompanied Colin into the front hall. Dagmar, who had clearly been watching from the windows, awaited him. With her were Igor and several footmen, as well as Dubaclov. Anna and Alexandra stood at the top of the stairs, faces tight with apprehension. ‘So,’ Dagmar remarked; her head was bound up in a vast bandage, but she could speak quite easily. ‘You have had the temerity to return.’
The Seeds of Power Page 14