I smiled and walked out.
Behind his half-smile he was fuming.
Then I walked over to the ambassador's office. “Is he in?”
“Ah . . . sir.”
“I'll be just a minute.” I walked to the door and opened it.
Both Darwaard and Hagel looked up—almost guiltily—from where they sat on opposite sides of the ambassador's desk.
I closed the door behind me. “Gentlemen. I have a slight problem. Or rather, you do. This morning, I asked Colonel Sudwerth to see what he could find out about someone whose name was passed to me. When I returned from a visit with an old friend, who I thought might help, the colonel had left a note and a driver.” I extended the crumpled note, first to Hagel and then to his first secretary, but didn't let them have it. “The driver abandoned me in the middle of St. Petersburg, and I had to walk to my appointment with Pyotr Romanov. Scarcely a good sign, and although Prince Romanov was gracious enough to send me back in his limousine, that was not good, either. I no sooner walk into the embassy than Colonel Sudwerth is complaining that his driver is missing, as if I had anything to do with it.”
I looked from one to the other.
“Sir, Minister Eschbach . . . that note . . .” Darwaard said. “That's not the colonel's writing. I get all his reports.”
“Then,” I said slowly, “I think you all have a much, much bigger problem. And I do not think the Speaker will be pleased.”
Hagel looked like he'd been gut-punched. Darwaard appeared mildly concerned.
I smiled. “It's not my problem, except that whatever it is made it a bit harder to deal with Pyotr Romanov. What I was asked to do is hard enough without this sort of blunder. But I am most certain that you two and the colonel will find a way to resolve it.” I paused, before adding, “I am most certain you will.”
“Ah . . . yes, Minister Eschbach,” Hagel said slowly.
Neither said another word as I left, but after I heard the door close, before I stepped away, I could hear the ambassador's voice, and it wasn't gentle, although I couldn't make out the specific words.
Colonel Sudwerth stood by the desk of the ambassador's secretary.
“I'd wait a few minutes if I were you, Colonel,” I suggested.
“I appreciate the advice, Minister Eschbach.” Beneath the polite tone, there was a chill colder than all the snow still falling outside.
I kept smiling as I walked toward the elevator that would take me upstairs.
34
LLYSETTE AND I had dinner in the embassy dining area—early and alone at one of the smaller tables—and I told her exactly what I'd told the colonel and the ambassador. From my expressions and gestures, she understood that there was much more, and that there wasn't anything to be said where we were. She was also worried.
So was I, but I had a very good idea that nothing would happen—not until after Saturday night, when all bets were off.
Even with all the tension, I did fall asleepfairly soon. That was what walking around St. Petersburg in the cold had done for me. I just didn't sleepthat late.
Llysette did. So I was in the small kitchen a little after sunrise the next morning, suffering through tea that was too strong and too bitter . . . and going through the news summaries, and the Times of London. The Speaker had issued a statement saying that the Caribbean was open to all merchant shipping of any registry and invited Emperor Ferdinand to follow his lead. There had been no response from Vienna, and probably wouldn't be. Complaining about the Caribbean had just been an excuse for Ferdinand to extend Austrian control over another area of the globe, and little short of war would see an Austrian back-down there.
The quarters bell chimed. Even as I rose to get it before it rang again, I wondered who it could be so early on a Saturday morning.
Both Colonel Sudwerth and Commander Madley were standing outside in working undress blues. They looked most unhappy.
I opened the door.
“Colonel, Commander . . .” I just looked from one to the other.
“Might we come in, Minister?” asked Madley.
“Certainly, but I'd ask you to speak quietly. Llysette is still sleeping, and she has to perform tonight.”
“Of course.” That was the commander.
Sudwerth just nodded.
We sat on three adjoining chairs in the salon, and I waited for one of them to speak.
Finally, Sudwerth cleared his throat. “Your driver? . . .”
“Olaf?” I didn't have to act puzzled on that.
“No . . . Corporal Bromwood.”
“Colonel . . . if you're talking about the man who drove me to the wrong place yesterday, he wasn't my driver. He was your driver. Now . . . what's the problem?”
“The Russians are charging the driver with murder.”
“Murder? What did he do? Go off and try a burglary or break into some woman's house?”
“No.”
I sighed. “Why don't you tell me what happened? I told you about my problems with the corporal.”
“The embassy car was found on a side street in a bad district in St. Petersburg yesterday around noon.”
“And you didn't find out about it until now?” I let my voice rise and sound half incredulous, half annoyed.
“We didn't find that out until after eight o'clock last night. The embassy got a call saying that one of our soldiers had been injured and was in the St. Petersburg hospital in serious condition. Captain Austin went to the hospital. He found a guard posted at the door to Bromwood's room, but no one would tell him why.”
I waited.
“This morning,” Sudwerth continued, “just about a half hour ago, we received a visitor from the Ohkrana. He informed me that Bromwood had murdered three Russians. They said the ballistics tests say that his forty-five killed the three men.” Sudwerth snorted. “There's a problem with that. He's got a shattered knee and a broken wrist. He's still in shock and can't remember anything. If he killed the three, how could he have done it in that condition?”
“They attacked him, and he probably fired at them after he realized they were serious.” I frowned. “It could be that there were several more attackers, and they got to him before he could shoot any more of them. It could be any number of things,” I pointed out.
“One of his attackers had a crushed throat. He probably would have died of suffocation if he hadn't been shot.”
“And?” I asked.
“You were the last person we know that saw Bromwood.” Sudwerth was sounding far less deferential. Far less.
I nodded. “I've told you what I know. Bromwood left me somewhere I couldn't possibly recognize and then drove off. All the signs were in Cyrillic, and, from what I could tell, it wasn't anywhere near where I was supposed to be. I'm stand ing in the snow, in the middle of St. Petersburg, wondering where I am and where you are, and where your driver's gone. Whatever it is, I'm sorry the driver got mixed upin it, but . . .” I spread my hands helplessly. “I haven't any idea of what I can add to this mess. Your driver made a mess of my day, and put me in not the best of lights with PetroRus, and now he's getting the embassy into trouble at a time when what I'm trying to work out is at a most delicate stage.”
“I'm trying to find out what happened, Minister Eschbach.”
I sighed loudly. “Colonel. I have told you three times what happened. Your driver left me in the lurch. I couldn't find the address, and I had to walk to my second appointment. Prince Romanov was well aware that I walked to his office. I wouldn't have wished this on anyone, but I have to tell you that I wasn't exactly pleased, and if the way he handled me was any indication, I really can't say I'm surprised.”
“You don't sound terribly sympathetic.”
I took a long deepbreath. “Your driver left me in a desolate part of St. Petersburg, where I was supposed to meet you. You didn't show up, and the driver left me to fend for myself. Now you're acting as though it's my fault that the man didn't do his job and got into trouble. I'm sorry he's in
trouble with the Russians. I wouldn't wish that on any innocent person, but if he'd escorted me to the right place, it's clear none of this would have happened.” I fixed very cold eyes on Sudwerth. “If you'd been there, this wouldn't have happened. I didn't create this mess. If anyone's responsible for it, you are.”
He stepped back.
“Maybe you have a problem with your military personnel, Colonel. Maybe you should look into that before arriving at my door ready to blame me.”
“Is that all you have to say?” He was still clearly angry.
“No.” I stood upand glared at the colonel. “I have one other thing to say. When matters go wrong at the bottom, there's usually a problem at the top. I suggest you look into that most thoroughly before you imply blame to someone who's been in Russia for exactly four days.” I looked at Madley. “Commander, I need to talk to you.” Then I turned my eyes back on Sudwerth. “Good day, Colonel. I suggest you look elsewhere for the cause of your problems.”
Sudwerth was furious, which was exactly the way I wanted him. He looked at Madley as if to say something.
“Commander Madley was detailed by the Minister of Defense to work for me, Colonel. I suggest you remember that, as well.” I gestured toward the foyer. “Good day, Colonel.”
Madley stood there, half dazed, if not in outright shock, long after the door had closed behind a departing Sudwerth. Acting the situation hadn't been that hard, because Sudwerth had been the reason for the mess.
Madley wiped his forehead. “Sir . . .”
“You're wondering why I was so hard on the colonel and worried that I've put you in an impossible position.” I laughed. “If I hadn't done that, you'd be in an even worse position.”
“I can't say I understand, sir.”
“You will. Just think about this. Sudwerth arranged the meeting I was supposed to go to; his driver relieved Olaf. If you look into it, I suspect you'll find Olaf was detained or sent on an errand.”
I extended a piece of paper. “I was given this. Either Sudwerth wrote it or his driver forged it or someone else forged it who knew I was tracking Yelensov. At that moment, there were exactly three people in the embassy besides me who knew—you, Christian, and the colonel. Did you tell anyone?”
“No, sir.”
“Did Christian?”
“He couldn't have, not for a while, because I helped him go through the records. We were together for at least an hour.”
“That leaves the colonel, Commander, because I had that note less than an hour after I told you two.” I paused. “Analysis will show it's not my writing. If Sudwerth sent me on a wild hare chase . . . that's not exactly good. If he didn't, then it shows that his detachment isn't what it should be. Either way . . .”
“That's a pretty serious accusation, sir.”
I sighed. “Commander . . . just ask yourself two questions. Why am I here, and why are you here?”
After a minute, his eyes dropped. “This isn't a good situation.”
“If it were, would you have been detailed to answer to my orders?”
“Probably not, sir.”
“There's nothing you can do right now, Commander, except keepan eye on the colonel and keepan accurate record of what happens.”
“Yes, sir.”
After he left, and the door closed a second time, Llysette slipped out from the bedchamber into the salon. She looked at me. “You have troubles, mon cher.”
“Colonel Sudwerth's driver—the one who left me on my own—has been charged with murder by the Russians. The good colonel thinks I had something to do with it. He doesn't seem to understand that he and the driver caused the problems, not me.”
“Toujours, that is the way of those like him. They would blame everyone but themselves.”
“He's more than a little angry, and I worry about what he might do.”
“You will do what is necessary, n'est-ce-pas?”
“We each have our jobs to do.” I smiled. “What will you wear tonight?”
“The other recital gown.”
“You thought something like this might happen. Performing for the tzar, I mean.”
“Non. It could happen. That I knew, but to count on it, non.”
“After you get dressed, we need to eat.”
“After you offer me tea, mon cher, I will dress.” She arched her eyebrows.
I laughed for a moment before I hugged her, trying not to think about what would happen after her performance.
35
I WAS MORE than a little nervous going to the Winter Palace on Saturday night. It had been made clear that Llysette's performance was for the imperial family and friends, not for dignitaries. The ambassador was not invited, nor was Deputy Minister Drummond Kent. There were only four of us in the embassy limousine—Terese, Llysette, Commander Madley, and me. I'd insisted on the commander as both an aide for us and as a translator, and the Russians had apparently agreed.
“This is really a command performance,” Terese said. “I wish I had a chance to practice with the instrument. I don't know how it will even feel. It's nerve-wracking enough to play for an imperial tzar, without even knowing the piano.”
“That's why the huge fees,” I said dryly. I shifted my weight. The pen projector with its new battery, and the spares inside my jacket, felt huge, and yet simultaneously, I felt as though I were about to walk into a battle unarmed.
The driver turned off the Palace Embankment and eased the limousine through the left hand archway in the lower level of the Winter Palace, the only one whose iron gates were brightly lighted. Once inside the huge courtyard, the limousine pulled upunder a covered portico, where footmen uniformed in gray with green piping opened the doors.
Once inside, we walked through a large mesh arch, a detector of some sort, and Llysette had to open her metallic purse, apparently because the metal sequins blocked the scanners. Llysette looked disconcerted when the attendant motioned for her to open the purse, but there wasn't much in the velvet-lined purse—just a compact, a lipstick, a folding brush, and similar items.
Partway down the corridor were three women in identical dark blue velvet dresses. One stepped forward and said something.
“She wants to take your coats,” explained the commander.
We surrendered our coats, and then another functionary, this one in gray and gold, appeared to escort us, taking us up a huge staircase and then back through what seemed endless halls, most of them with parquet floors of intricate and original designs that changed from hall to hall.
The concert hall was on the second level of the Winter Palace, although they called it the first floor in the European tradition. I also wouldn't have called the room a concert hall. There was a small raised built-in dais against one wall; it looked to be an elongated hexagon lifted only a foot above the mixed and polished woods that comprised the elaborate parquet floor of the rest of the space. The walls were white, with intricate moldings, including what I would have called a ledge molding all the way around the hall about fifteen feet off the floor. The ceiling rose at least another ten feet above that. Etched glass doors were set at intervals on two sides of the hall.
There were close to two hundred seats set out in an arc, and each seat was an armless upholstered wooden chair— except for the larger throne-like upholstered armchairs set apart from the others just in front of the wall opposite the performing dais.
Somewhere around fifty people, all in formal attire, stood in the open spaces around the chairs, and the low buzz of conversation ebbed and flowed.
I looked for the four chairs to the left and in front of the tzar's chair. That was where the four of us were to sit.
As we sat down, more people appeared in the room, until it was almost full. Then, another set of doors opened, and everyone stood. So did we. The tzar and the tzarina entered, preceded by three children, a girl and two boys, all roughly between nine and twelve, I would have guessed.
When the tzar was seated, everyone else sat, and so did we.
Then a functionary in a gold and green uniform stepped out and looked toward us. Terese and Llysette rose and stepped onto the low dais. Terese did take a few moments to run through a scale or two and to get a feel for the piano.
As at the cultural exchange concert, Llysette began with Rimsky-Korsakov's Nightingale, her voice soaring and filling the hall, yet with a warmth and a delicacy that was more obvious in the smaller space.
That got sighs, before the applause. Next came the three Tchaikovsky pieces, with more nods, sighs, and greater applause, especially for the Russian version of “Last Night.” Then she did “The Lilacs” before going to her French heritage with Debussy's “Air de Lia.”
That's where she added another French piece, “Air des bijoux,” Marguerite's “jewel song” from Gounod's Faust, before doing the Rachmaninov Vocalise. Even though it was a vocalise, with no actual words, with Llysette's interpretation and feeling it sounded angelic, powerful, beautiful—and very Russian.
There was a respectful moment of silence after the Vocalise, before enthusiastic applause.
Llysette gestured to Terese, conveying that there would be another song, and murmurs passed around the room for a moment.
They finished with Mozart's “Alleluia,” which, of course, was in Latin, and the applause was even greater. There were enough cries of something, which Commander Madley translated as “encore” for me, that she sang the Gershwin “Summertime” as the encore. They wanted more, and after a moment, she and Terese turned to each other and spoke. Then Llysette did the “Adieu, forêt” aria from Tchaikovsky's Orleanskaya-Deva, which I'd been told meant “Maid of Orleans.”-The tzarina liked that, and there was more applause, but Llysette and Terese just smiled and bowed.
Before they could leave the dais, the tzar beckoned, and a functionary in a gold and green uniform stepped forward, carrying a moderately large black lacquered box and a smaller box.
The smaller box was tendered to Terese.
“You are most skilled, madame, and allowed a true talent to flower for us all.” The tzar smiled. “That too is talent, and to be rewarded.”
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