by Kim Wright
With no further comment, the Queen turned and processed down the steps, presumably to her cabins below, her manservant following smartly behind. A sharp blast of the ship’s whistle indicated that departure was imminent, and within minutes of the sound, Rayley and Davy emerged up the same steps to join Trevor on deck.
“And so we are off,” Rayley said, as the ship begin to pull from its berth.
“Where is Tom?” Trevor asked.
“Already in his bunk, Sir.” Davy said. “I think he celebrated his last night in the Palace a little too much.”
“And what of Emma?”
“Also below deck, consoling Alix,” Rayley said. “Or perhaps it is the other way around. This country has a strange effect on people, does it not? Despite everything, I feel we have all fallen a bit under its spell.”
“I have a question, Sirs,” Davy said, as the yacht began moving toward the center of the Neva, the engines settling down into a low steady drone.
“We may not be able to answer, but by all means, give it a shot,” said Trevor.
“Should our loyalty toward ideals be greater than our loyalty toward people?” Davy asked, cupping his hand to be heard above the wind and the engines.
This was a bit more philosophical than either Rayley or Trevor was prepared for, and for a minute they all simply stood, still facing the Winter Palace. The eternal Palace. It seemed it would take as long to leave it as it had to approach it.
“We discussed this very topic during one of our meetings,” Trevor said. “One of the ones you missed. As I recall, we failed to come to any conclusion.”
“You have obviously given the matter some thought,” Rayley said. “What do you think?”
“I feel I’ve done the wrong thing, Sirs,” Davy said, his voice cracking. “In fact I know I have. I’ve lied to you, Sirs, and I have to get it off my chest or the trip back will be a proper torment…”
“Hold on, son,” Trevor said. “What are we talking about?”
“One of the lads in the Volya,” Davy said. “Vlad. I saw him on the dock last night and I could have given chase and I…I didn’t.” He was green with agony, gripping the railing as if the seasickness which had plagued him during the first trip had already taken hold of him again. “Then I didn’t tell you even after that was over, and this was as bad as a lie too, isn’t it Sir?”
“Yes, you should have given chase or called for help or at the very least you should have told me the truth when you returned to the courtyard,” Trevor said. His voice was neither scolding nor sympathetic, merely matter of fact. “But you didn’t, and it’s done. Orlov is dead and Krupin is arrested and they are the two who matter. As long as the sharks are caught, I can live with the fact that a minnow slips through the net now and then.”
“We did a similar thing, you know,” Rayley said, although it was unclear whether the comment was directed toward Trevor or Davy. “We might have announced that Filip Orlov was with the Volya, but we didn’t, and neither did Prakov. We let everyone believe he died a martyr to the tsar.”
“Things will likely go better for his widow that way,” Trevor said. “Based on what Tom told us, that poor woman’s position is precarious enough without us adding to her troubles.”
“So at times the truth is overrated?” Rayley asked, with a sly smile. One rarely got such an admission out of Welles.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Trevor answered. “I’d rather say that sometimes the truth is complex.”
But Davy was not totally convinced, so he continued to seek absolution. “Vlad swore the revolution was behind him, Sirs. Said that his mother had already lost one son to violence and he was going to go home and eat chicken and potatoes before she lost another.”
“Which may indeed have been the case” Trevor said. “A brush with death has a way of making a man crave chicken and potatoes.”
“And even if it wasn’t,” Rayley added, “perhaps it was simply not this boy’s fate to be captured.”
“Fate?” Trevor said, stroking his mustache. They had at last sailed beyond the looming shadow of the Winter Palace and the sun struck them suddenly full in the face, causing them all to flinch and shield their eyes. “I say, Abrams, you’re talking just like a Russian. There’s no such thing as fate. It’s just the word men give to decisions which have worked out badly.”
“Fatalism is the national disease of Russia,” Rayley said with a laugh, cupping both hands to his brow in an effort to stop the assault of the light. “Tom says the Grand Duchess Ella told him that and it seems most contagious indeed. And yet, Welles, you’re the only one of us who never caught even the slightest sniffle. I wonder why.”
Trevor turned his back on the sun, the palace, and Russia. “I fear I am too English,” he said.
From high on the riverbank Vlad Ulyanov watched the royal yacht slip from view. The kidnapping had been a failure, but even failures served their purpose. Hangings were surprisingly good for recruitment, boys being what they were, and the ranks of the Volya would soon swell with new recruits. Young and impressionable revolutionaries seeking guidance from the more established members and now that the British had sailed and Gregor and Filip were out of the way…
His destiny was fully upon him. He would climb to heights that even Sasha had failed to reach.
It was the fashion of the Volya for the leaders to choose new names. The custom was partly to protect their families from retaliation should something go wrong in this long and dangerous struggle. But mostly it was to signal their rebirths, to announce to the world that their old lives meant nothing to them once they had aligned with the Marxist party. Names based on the physical features of Russia were especially popular, since they seemed to suggest that the men and their cause had organically sprung from the very land they loved. Mountains, prairies, oceans, rivers…
Perhaps he should name himself after the Neva, Vlad thought, and then almost immediately rejected the idea. He would not so honor a river that flowed within sight of the Winter Palace, but would rather choose something humbler, more distant, more reflective of the true nature of Russia. There was a river in Siberia - the Lena, and he tried the sound on for size.
Yes, he liked it. It was a good name, strong and simple and solid. He uttered it out loud, called the name up into the sky, shattering the silence of the river and causing the birds above him to startle. Over and over he shouted the words, like an Adam newly christened into a world newly born. For this was the start of everything, was it not?
And so he said his name once again: Vladimir Lenin.
Historical Notes
I hope that City of Silence has inspired readers to learn more about this pivotal time in Russian history, i.e., the thirty years which marked the end of the imperial age and the rise of the Marxist Party. I knew very little about imperial Russia before I began my research – as I suspect is true of most Americans - but quickly fell under the spell of the endlessly fascinating and exasperating Romanov family.
The murders of the ballet dancers and the characters of Tatiana, Filip, and Konstantin were entirely fabricated. The fictional character of Cynthia Kirby was named in honor a friend of mine, a lovely woman with most excellent manners, who in no way deserves to be disposed of in such an inelegant manner.
In contrast, the tales of the royal families of both Russia and England were largely based on fact. Alix and Nicky truly met when Serge and Ella married, and carried on a long distance courtship to the dismay of both their families before ultimately marrying when she was twenty. The personalities and relationships within the Winter Palace are as close to accurate as I can imagine them, based on letters and diaries from the time.
My sins are mostly against the calendar. While Tchaikovsky did have a triumphant tour of Europe, he was not honored in St. Petersburg during that particular summer. Likewise, Vlad was not in St. Petersburg in June of 1889, nor was there an attack on any members of the tsar’s family at that time, although the previous attempts on the tsar’s life and t
he involvement of Vlad’s brother Sasha are based on fact. For dramatic purposes, I also collapsed the time frame of the courtship between Alix and Nicky, implying that events which occurred months or years apart, actually all happened within a two week period.
One aspect of the story which I did not have to adapt for dramatic purposes was the Queen’s reservations toward the men her granddaughters chose as husbands. Victoria did indeed dislike Russia, and used all of her influence in an effort to dissuade her granddaughters from marrying into the Romanov family. Many of the Queen’s quotes are taken directly from her letters.
And as history shows us, her fears were well founded. Both Alix and Ella died horribly brutal deaths in 1917 at the dawn of the Bolshevik Revolution. Their murders and those of their families were decreed by none other than the single-minded leader of the Marxist party, Vladimir Lenin.
What’s Next?
If you enjoyed City of Silence, look for the first two books in the City of Mystery series: City of Darkness, which takes place in London and explores in the infamous case of Jack the Ripper, and City of Light, which travels to Paris on the eve of the Exposition Universalle, the World’s Fair which introduced the Eiffel Tower.
City of Bells, in which the Scotland Yard forensics team will travel to Bombay to defend Aunt Gerry’s first love from a charge of murder, is due in late summer, 2013. To be notified of when it is available, either “like” the City of Mystery page on Facebook or leave your email address at [email protected].
And I would appreciate any reviews of City of Silence or any of the other books in the City of Mystery series. The link to Amazon is http://www.amazon.com/City-Silence-Mystery-ebook/dp/B00B7NHUWU/ref=pd_sim_kstore_2
Table of Contents
Dedication
Prologue June 13, 1889 The Winter Palace St. Petersburg, Russia 3:02 AM
Chapter One London - The Lawns of Windsor Palace June 13, 1889 2:29 PM
Chapter Two London – Geraldine Bainbridge’s Home in Mayfair 11:22 PM
Chapter Three The Winter Palace, St. Petersburg - The Private Rooms of the Orlovs June 14, 1889 9:20 AM
Chapter Four London – Scotland Yard June 14, 1889 10:10 AM
Chapter Five St. Petersburg – The Winter Palace June 14, 1889 4:45 PM
Chapter Six The Royal Yacht the Victoria and Albert - Skagerrak Strait June 16, 1889 7:28 PM
Chapter Seven St. Petersburg, the Winter Palace June 18, 1889 2:27 PM
Chapter Eight June 18, 1889 The Winter Palace – Ella’s Lounge 6:27 PM
Chapter Nine The Streets of St. Petersburg June 19, 1889 10:40 AM
Chapter Ten The Winter Palace – The Premiere Ballroom June 19, 1889 3:45 PM
Chapter Eleven The Winter Palace – the Kitchens June 19, 1889 10:20 PM
Chapter Twelve The Winter Palace – The Gentleman’s Enclave June 20, 1889 1:20 PM
Chapter Thirteen The Winter Palace – The Grand Ballroom June 20, 1889 3:40 PM
Chapter Fourteen The Café of the Revolutionaries June 21, 1889 11:20 AM
Chapter Fifteen The Winter Palace - Ella’s Apartments 5:20 PM
Chapter Sixteen The Winter Palace – The Imperial Gardens June 22, 1889 2:20 PM
Chapter Seventeen The Winter Palace – The Grand Ballroom June 22, 1889 4:50 PM
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen The Winter Palace - The Breakfast Room in the Imperial Suites June 23, 1889 10:45 AM
Chapter Twenty The Streets of St. Petersburg 1:50 PM
Chapter Twenty-One The Winter Palace – The Chapel of the Mournful 5:05 PM
Chapter Twenty-Two The Winter Palace – The Guest Quarters 7:12 PM
Chapter Twenty-Three The Halls of the Gentlemen’s Enclave 9:20 PM
Chapter Twenty-Four A Train Outside of Danzig June 24, 1889 7:50 AM
Historical Notes
What’s Next?