The Rasputin Dagger

by Theresa Breslin

  I thought of the servants and estate workers and I knew what he said was true. He must have sensed my thoughts for his manner became more confident. Yet I was not so naïve that I couldn’t see that this was subtle manipulation.

  As I pondered the situation, the lawyer opened his hands and said, ‘I declare you may have the house as your own. I will remain in the village and we will only meet when required to do so by business matters.’

  Perhaps this was the best option, the most favourable offer I could hope for. I would have a home and an income and the freedom to come and go as I pleased.

  ‘I had a great affection for your father and I know he would have wanted me to look after you,’ Viktor Ilyich went on. ‘Here is a suggestion. Why don’t we agree that you give me the casket and its contents in exchange for the house? We can have an independent lawyer draw up a settlement right here in Petrograd. You give me the casket, and the house will belong to you for ever.’

  I thought about it. If I owned the house I could sell some of the furniture and send the money to Dr K and visit Petrograd whenever I chose. And …

  The dagger repelled me. Its history was tainted with blood and despair. If it did have some strange power, then better I gave it away. It would no longer haunt my dreams.

  I hesitated.

  ‘It is the best offer you will ever get. You should take it. Let me at least have the key.’

  I reached for the chain around my neck.

  At that moment the front door opened and Dr K entered the house. ‘We have a guest!’ he said in surprise.

  The lawyer chewed at his lip in frustration.

  ‘Come into my study, please, and sit down,’ said Dr K when I introduced them to each other. ‘So fortunate that I finished early at the hospital today.’ He nudged me as he set out some chairs. ‘You were Nina’s lawyer, Viktor Ilyich?’ Dr K’s use of the past tense hung in the air. ‘I assume you are here to settle the misunderstanding of her inheritance? It is good of you to travel so far to assure her that she now owns her father’s house and lands.’

  ‘I regret to say that the house and the estate were used as security for a loan to Nina’s father which was unpaid at his death. By the terms of our contract all his goods are mine.’

  ‘You must have rich clients and high earnings,’ observed Dr K, ‘to have been able to lend that amount of money.’

  ‘I have various means,’ Viktor Ilyich replied.

  ‘By what means has a country lawyer the ability to lend sufficient money to feed the folk and livestock on an estate over many months?’ Dr K asked the question with a quiet insistence.

  ‘I fail to see how this is any of your business.’

  ‘It is my business in as much as I am Nina’s godfather, a position I take very seriously. I was also her father’s friend, and have correspondence from him entrusting her to my care if anything should happen to him.’

  The lawyer gave him a sly look. ‘It is good that your friend recognized this girl as his own but, inconveniently, there is nothing to prove that she is indeed his child.’

  I turned my face away – that Viktor Ilyich should mention this so brazenly was humiliating.

  Dr K laid his hand upon my arm and spoke to the lawyer. ‘I was there just after Nina Ivanovna was born. Sadly, too late to save her mother, but I am a reliable witness to my friend claiming her as his own.’

  ‘I am relieved to hear that,’ said the lawyer. He rose to leave. ‘Nina and I have made an agreement and I must go and prepare papers for her to sign.’

  Dr K remained seated. ‘You have not yet answered my question. By what means has a country lawyer the ability to lend sufficient money to feed the folk and livestock on an estate over many months?’

  ‘One finds ways to help a friend.’ Viktor Ilyich was at the door. ‘When I return I will bring a contract wherein I will gift the house and all its goods to Nina Ivanovna in perpetuity. I think you’ll acknowledge that is a generous settlement.’

  ‘When Nina arrived here I made enquiries at the Ministry of War regarding the requisitioning of supplies,’ said Dr K. ‘It appears that payments were made to the estate of my friend in compensation for the materials taken for the war. They have details of the transactions for horses and grain in exchange for allowances paid to maintain the estate.’

  ‘These papers never arrived.’

  ‘And yet the money was withdrawn …?’

  ‘There is some mistake in their accounts,’ Viktor Ilyich blustered. ‘Corruption was rife in the Tsarist Government.’

  ‘So it would seem,’ said Dr K. ‘However, to take money from the War Office for personal gain is an act of treason. In the old days, for a treasonable offence you would have been tried and hanged.’

  ‘Possibly. Possibly not.’ The lawyer was unperturbed. ‘There is always someone to bribe. Everyone has a price.’

  ‘Often this is the case,’ said Dr K. ‘I myself do not think you will be tried and hanged.’

  ‘I’m glad that we can agree on that at least,’ said the lawyer.

  ‘Indeed,’ Dr K replied. ‘The Bolsheviks who now run the government departments have a different way of dealing with people like you. They have issued a directive that in some circumstances a person can be executed without trial. Those tiresome court procedures waste too much time. They’ll take you out into a yard and shoot you in the head.’

  Viktor Ilyich threw me a venomous look. ‘This is not over,’ he said.

  ‘On the contrary; it is.’ Dr K stood up to indicate that the lawyer should leave. ‘I will write to Dmitri, the steward, to say that you are not allowed further entry to the house. When the weather improves Nina Ivanovna will return to Yekaterinburg to claim her rightful inheritance.’

  Chapter 43

  ‘Nina.’ Dr K went to the window to watch the lawyer walk down the street. ‘Does the agreement Viktor Ilyich Volkov was referring to mean that you were considering marrying him?’

  ‘Absolutely not!’

  ‘That is a relief,’ Dr K said dryly. ‘I have yet to accommodate the idea of Tomas as a possible godson-in-law. The thought of being in a situation where I might have to welcome that odious lawyer into our family would have been a step too far.’

  ‘I would never willingly marry Viktor Ilyich.’

  ‘I applaud your decision. What was the agreement he mentioned?’

  ‘That he would let me have ownership of my papa’s house. And I thought if I owned the house I could sell the furniture and send you the money.’

  ‘Or transport it here and use it for fuel,’ the doctor said with humour. ‘But I know that type of man. He does not give in willingly. What did he want in exchange?’

  ‘Among my father’s papers I found a casket,’ I said. ‘A carved wooden casket.’

  ‘The lawyer pursued you far across Russia in winter for a casket? It must have some monetary value.’

  ‘I will fetch it,’ I said.

  Dr K was seated at his desk when I returned and placed it before him. ‘Of what worth is that?’ he mused. ‘Unless … does the casket contain some precious object?’

  I handed him the key and he unlocked it and opened the lid.

  ‘Oh!’ Such was his shock that he stood up.

  ‘Have you seen it before?’ I asked him.

  ‘Never.’

  ‘Where would my papa get such a thing?’

  ‘Perhaps …’ Dr K was staring at the dagger as if mesmerized. ‘It might have been part of a dowry. No … I do not know. Did he speak of it to you?’

  ‘Never, except … on his deathbed he was raving about all sorts of things … He said he and his best friend had danced at a ball in the Winter Palace, and it was one of the happiest days of his life.’

  ‘Ivan said that?’ There was a catch of grief in the doctor’s voice.

  ‘In amongst other nonsense,’ I said. I decided not to mention Papa’s last confession. I didn’t believe it to be true, and it would upset Dr K.

  ‘This dagger is … unu
sual.’

  Not so unusual, I thought. Should I tell him that Rasputin had once carried a similar dagger in his sash?

  ‘Its value must be immense,’ said Dr K. ‘The ruby alone is priceless … and the pearls too …’

  ‘Would someone give it to my father as a gift?’

  ‘I – I’m not sure. There is one place where that might have come from—’ He broke off. ‘And it can never go back there.’

  ‘I know where it came from,’ I said.

  ‘You do?’ The colour drained from the doctor’s face.

  ‘From the Alexander Palace,’ I said.

  ‘At Tsarskoe Selo?’ He seemed confused. ‘What makes you think it was in the Alexander Palace?’

  I told him the coachman’s story of the theft.

  ‘That could be true.’ Dr K nodded. ‘But wherever it came from and however it came into your possession, I think you would be better rid of it.’

  ‘We could sell it,’ I said. ‘And give the money to the hospital?’

  ‘Absolutely not.’ He shook his head vehemently. ‘There is no way to sell this without attracting attention. The kind of attention that has fatal consequences.’ He pursed his lips and blew out a long breath. ‘Has the lawyer seen it?’

  ‘I think he must have caught a glimpse of it at some time in the past.’

  ‘So he knows that there is a precious object inside the carved casket, which is why he wanted your agreement for an exchange. This dagger is worth more than your house, the estate and everything on it.’

  ‘It sounds ridiculous but I think my father thought it cursed.’

  ‘My friend Ivan had a lively mind. He thought there were forces other than human inhabiting our world.’

  ‘Do you believe in spiritual things?’

  The doctor shrugged. ‘“There are more things in Heaven and Earth …” than we might imagine. Cursed or not, men would kill for this. It may be that you should fling it in the Neva.’ He closed the lid of the casket and handed it to me.

  ‘Thank you, Godfather-Uncle,’ I said, ‘for exposing the fraud of Viktor Ilyich.’

  ‘My dear child, I didn’t investigate anything. I assessed the lawyer’s character and made a correct guess as to his working methods. I knew your papa very well. He would never have left you destitute and in that man’s power. And,’ he went on, ‘be assured that your parents were indeed married. I was your father’s groomsman.’

  ‘Do you have a copy of the marriage certificate? If you do, then I would like to see it.’

  ‘There is no need for you to see a marriage certificate.’ Dr K’s answer was swift and explicit. ‘I give you my solemn word that your parents were officially married. Afterwards, they decided to travel. They both loved the countryside and horses, and Ivan was interested in the peoples of Russia. He wanted to make a written record of their languages before they were lost.’

  ‘Why did I not find a marriage certificate among Papa’s papers?’

  ‘Ah’ – Dr K paused – ‘perhaps the lawyer stole it so that he could have leverage over you to give him the dagger?’

  Even though Viktor Ilyich was a thief and a bully, that explanation didn’t quite fit. It was more that he believed my parents weren’t married and tried to exploit the fact. When I’d mentioned the subject to Dmitri he’d been uncomfortable. And then there was the reaction of Professor Kirichenko at the university when I had told him my real name.

  So I said, ‘In the church where my parents were married, the priest would have recorded the ceremony. I could go there and see the certificate for myself.’

  Dr K didn’t reply but dropped his eyes to focus on the work piled up on his desk.

  ‘Where were they married?’ I persisted.

  ‘Oh, a chapel somewhere. I can’t recall the name.’ Usually Dr K was a forthright man, but he was dissembling now.

  I couldn’t understand how the doctor could have forgotten the name of the church. Why was he reluctant to tell me where it was? Maybe it made him sad to think of his two friends, now dead. But I didn’t have the opportunity to question him further, for the next moment Galena sounded the gong for dinner.

  ‘Ah!’ Dr K spoke fast. ‘I’m hungry. Are you? While we eat I’ll tell you of some of the escapades your father and I got involved in when we were students together.’

  Chapter 44

  On the fifth of January 1918, the results of the first free election in the history of Russia brought over seven hundred men and women to Petrograd as our elected representatives.

  This initial meeting of our fledgling democracy was to convene as an Assembly of Constituents in the Tauride, a magnificent palace built by Catherine the Great. Dr K had secured four seats for us in the high gallery. Galena, stalwart in her winter coat and heavy boots, fished in her bag for a handkerchief to dab her eyes.

  ‘May I ask an Imperialist woman if she is shedding tears of joy that finally the people have a voice?’ Dr K teased her.

  ‘I am,’ she admitted. ‘Although I would prefer it if the Tsar were here to officially open the proceedings.’

  Dr K dug Stefan in the ribs to stop him saying anything to spoil Galena’s day. But Stefan was leaning far forward, his arms along the barrier rail, to get a better view.

  ‘I am shaking with tension,’ he confided in me.

  ‘As am I,’ I replied, stretching towards the rail. I was aware how close we were to each other. I could feel his breath on my cheek. Unbidden, into my head came an image of us sitting on my bed the night Rasputin was murdered.

  ‘Nina,’ Stefan whispered, ‘isn’t it amazing to be here?’

  I turned to look at him. Even in profile he had a handsome intensity. ‘Amazing,’ I whispered back. ‘At this moment there’s nowhere else in the world I’d want to be.’

  He grinned at me, his face alive with expectation. ‘That’s exactly how I feel!’

  In the vast hall below us chairs had been set out in a semicircle facing a central podium. There were more than twenty political parties with varying ideologies, but since the election the majority Socialist Party had fallen out and split into two. The Bolsheviks had seized on this and tried to argue that these two parties were no longer valid representatives of the people.

  Most of the day was taken up with swearing in the people’s elected representatives. The political parties were diverse, from high conservative to extreme left wing. It wasn’t until after four p.m. that we realized that the Bolsheviks didn’t have an overall majority.

  ‘Ho!’ said Stefan. ‘I wonder how Fyodor will greet that outcome?’

  Dr K’s brow furrowed. ‘The Bolsheviks will have had their spies at the polling stations, so Lenin must already be aware of the make-up of this Assembly.’

  Different delegates got up to speak. The Bolsheviks insisted that the two main Socialist parties did not represent the people. They put forward a motion to declare the Bolsheviks as the governing party. When the vote was taken, the other parties united against them – with the result that the Bolsheviks were defeated in the count.

  ‘This will not go well,’ said Dr K, and he put his head in his hands.

  From below we heard a ruckus.

  ‘What is the commotion?’ asked Galena.

  ‘The Bolsheviks are walking out!’ said Stefan.

  ‘Good riddance!’ said Galena. ‘It is better that Russia lets them go.’

  ‘But they will not let Russia go,’ said Dr K. ‘There will be repercussions. Perhaps we too should leave?’ he suggested.

  ‘I want to see what happens next,’ I said, and Stefan agreed with me.

  ‘I fear it has already been decided what will happen next.’ Dr K pointed to the doors of the Assembly Hall, where soldiers of the Red Guard were taking up positions. ‘There are the wolves who will tear the heart out of Russia.’

  A uniformed man strode onto the podium.

  ‘Fyodor!’ cried Stefan.

  ‘You will disperse at once!’ Fyodor announced. ‘This meeting has been deemed illeg
al. The Soviets are a higher form of democracy than this Assembly of Constituents. The Bolshevik Party will not allow the hard-won power of the Soviets of the Workers and Soldiers to be usurped by a spurious bourgeois elite! We speak on behalf of Russia!’

  Stefan was out of his seat and clambering over the gallery benches to get to the stairs. I chased after him as he caught up with Fyodor, who was overseeing his soldiers in harrying the members of the Assembly out of the hall.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Stefan grabbed Fyodor by the sleeve.

  ‘Protecting the Revolution!’ Fyodor replied. ‘We know the true needs of the proletariat.’

  ‘Fyodor,’ I said. ‘It was the various Soviets – those of the Workers, and the Soldiers and the Peasants – who directly elected these people.’

  Fyodor stared back at me. ‘We are the people,’ he said. ‘The Soviets will do as we say.’

  When we got home Galena spoke again to Dr K about moving out of the city.

  ‘Why don’t you come to Yekaterinburg?’ I suggested. ‘I would love to welcome you all there. Now that my Godfather-Uncle has spoken to the lawyer I can claim Papa’s house as my own.’

  ‘When did you speak to the lawyer?’ Galena asked Dr K.

  ‘Weeks ago. He came to the house to bully Nina. Fortunately I arrived home unexpectedly and was able to … em … persuade him to change his mind regarding his claim on her property.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me that man was in the house?’ Galena rounded on Dr K. ‘I would have had harsh words to say to him.’

  ‘For that very reason, woman,’ he replied. ‘I didn’t want you chasing him down the street with a broom in your hand.’ Then, addressing Stefan and Galena, Dr K asked, ‘Perhaps Siberia is too far away?’ Neither of them replied, so he said to me, ‘But you should go, Nina. I’ll buy you a train ticket at the earliest opportunity.’

  ‘I don’t want to go on my own,’ I said. ‘I want to be here.’

  ‘Do you mean with us, wherever we go, or “here” in the city?’