‘If they think I’m a baron, sir,’ Box replied, ‘then they must be even dimmer than they look. Have you devised a secret plan to get us out of here, sir?’
Colonel Kershaw laughed, and regarded Box with something akin to affection.
‘No, I have not!’ he replied. ‘You always think I can pull rabbits out of my hat. Well, I can’t. We’ll just have to live by our wits, Box. Meanwhile, let’s contain ourselves in patience until we return to share the hospitality of the baron’s table.’
Soon afterwards, one of the servants came into the corridor and spoke to Box in halting English. ‘The food – it is prepared,’ he said, and motioned the four to follow him back into the great hall.
The long table had been covered in an embroidered cloth, and someone had set out cutlery, tankards, and pewter flagons of what looked like dark beer. The baron was sitting at the head of the table. His earlier gloating skittishness seemed to have disappeared, to be replaced by a quiet, collected seriousness. He told his guests to sit down along one side of the table to his right, where chairs had been placed. They noticed that two other places had been set at the table to the baron’s left.
Two of the retainers appeared with plates of what appeared to be a kind of stew, which they placed in front of each of the diners, bowing low to Baron Augustyniak and Mr Arnold Box. They returned in a moment with a wooden platter piled high with pieces of black bread, and a bowl of coarse salt. Bowing a second time, they withdrew from the hall, and quietly closed its door.
‘This is pork stew with spices, gentlemen,’ said the Baron, ‘a local dish. In the tankards you will find a strong Polish beer. Let us eat, and then we can talk.’
The stew was hot and appetizing, if rather over-spiced. The beer was excellent, though Box estimated that it was probably three times as strong as anything served in The King Lud. It was quiet in the hall, and the last rays of the declining sun crept in through the remaining stained-glass panes of the tall windows. All that Box could hear was the occasional sound of spoons and forks delving around inside the deep pewter basins in which the stew had been served.
‘Baron Augustyniak,’ asked Kershaw, when he had finished his meal, ‘you will pardon me if I ask whether this fortified house is your property? You seem very much at home here.’
‘My property? No, Colonel. This place – St Mary of the Icon – belongs to an old but impoverished Polish-German family, the Hardenbergs. They live not far away. The Hardenbergs make this place available for the likes of me, when business brings me back to this part of Poland. I, too, come from this remote and rather dangerous area.’
‘And what business brings you here on this occasion, Baron?’ asked Kershaw boldly.
Baron Augustyniak smiled, and shook his head. He was clearly more amused than angry.
‘Let me remind you, Colonel Kershaw,’ he replied, ‘that I am a Polish nobleman, and, as such, a subject of the Russian Empire. I have every right to be here, and have made no secret of that fact. You and your companions, unfortunately, are here without papers, trespassers in our country….
‘But let me give you one reason for my presence here. On the twenty-first of this month, the Tsar comes to Polanska Gory to open the new bridge. It will be a festive occasion, at which many of the local Russian and Polish nobility have been invited out of courtesy. So I shall be there when the Tsar sets foot on the stones of the Catherine Bridge.’
I bet you will, thought Box, and so will your friends Kessler and his mates, and the half-crazed Grunwalski. Well, we’ll see what fate sends in the next few days.
‘There are other things that I must tell you, gentlemen,’ the baron continued, ‘but I cannot do so until two of my friends have appeared. They will be here within minutes, if I’m not mistaken, and they will join us here at the table.’
He glanced at the two empty places on his left. Who would his two friends be? thought Box. One would certainly be Doctor Franz Kessler. Perhaps the other would be Gerdler, quartermaster of The Aquila Project, or Eidenschenk, whom Colonel Kershaw had described as a second Kessler. Germans…. And when they came, all hell would be let loose.
The door of the hall opened, and the two remaining guests were ushered in to the hall. It was Colonel Kershaw’s gasp of surprise that caused Box to look up sharply. The guests were Count von und zu Thalberg, and his faithful tactician, Sergeant-Major Schmidt.
In a single dramatic moment, Box’s whole world seemed to revolve dizzily, and then settle into an entirely new and unexpected pattern. He knew from personal experience that these two men were staunch allies of Colonel Kershaw, and devotees of the Balance of Power concept. Therefore, Baron Augustyniak could only be another ally, another devoted worker in the cause of peace and stability in Europe. He looked at the baron, and saw from the broad smile on his face, that his assumptions were true.
‘How nice to see you again, Kershaw,’ said Count von und zu Thalberg, sitting down at the table. ‘And you, Mr Box. You remember Oberfeldwebel Schmidt, of course? Now, Baron,’ he continued, leaving the four Englishmen temporarily speechless, ‘our friends are completely in the dark about what’s going on. Will you enlighten them, or shall I?’
‘I think it’s a task for you, Thalberg,’ the baron replied. ‘Tell them everything, including Morrison and Kolinsky. Where this matter is concerned, the more they know, the more effective they will be as allies. I’ll only interrupt if I think it’s advisable to do so.’
‘Gentlemen,’ Thalberg began, ‘you must know at once that Baron Augustyniak is a senior officer of the Okhrana, the secret intelligence department of the Russian Imperial Police. For some years he was based at the Foreign Bureau of the organization in Paris, where he was able to monitor the activities of various dissidents who had escaped from Russia in order to continue their nefarious activities from France—’
‘The Okhrana?’ cried Colonel Kershaw. ‘Good God, you might have told me, Thalberg! I’d not the slightest idea…. But there, I must stay quiet until you’ve done. I’m completely confused: in a moment, I’ll doubt my sanity. The Okhrana?’
Baron Augustyniak threw back his head and laughed.
‘An unlooked-for complication, hey, Kershaw? Yes, my chief vocation is to protect the life of the Tsar and his family from terrorists – what we call “bombists” – socialists, anarchists, and other malignants. But I digress. Please continue your narrative, Thalberg.’
‘Baron Augustyniak and I have worked closely together for many years, giving our joint attention to matters effecting the security and stability of Central and Eastern Europe. We have had many successes, and a number of reversals, but between us we have forged an organization that is highly regarded both in Russia and Germany.
‘And then, about three years ago, we began to detect the presence of a new dissident group, a group which gradually developed into what is now called The Thirty. Its aims were to assassinate the Tsar, Alexander III, and to see that the blame would be laid at the door of the Tsar’s Polish subjects. Do I need to elaborate, Kershaw, or do you know all this?’
‘I know it well enough. Russia would launch a punitive military invasion of its Polish lands, bringing its troops so perilously near to the Prussian border that military engagement between the two empires would be inevitable. It was the fear of that happening, Thalberg, that brought the four of us here today.’
‘Yes, I know it was. I do wish you’d leave these Central European matters to us! Now, Baron Augustyniak there, and the Okhrana in general, are skilled and subtle opponents, and it was the baron who proposed getting himself accepted into The Thirty by a combination of bribery and principle—’
‘I am a Polish patriot, gentlemen,’ Augustyniak interrupted, ‘but I believe that a viable Polish nation can only be achieved by the political expediency of creating it as a wholesome buffer state between the German and Russian empires. That’s why I can work for both countries at once. But I have no time for dissident groups of murderers and anarchists. The Thirty are the same kind
of people as the Eidgenossenschaft, that nest of German vipers that almost succeeded in plunging all Europe into the dark night of war. The destruction of that gang, Colonel, was one of your signal victories: the annihilation of The Thirty will be one of ours.’
Count von und zu Thalberg resumed his narrative.
‘The Thirty, like many other dissidents before them, decided to operate from England, where many sympathizers were ready and waiting for someone to lead them. Some of these people were ideologues, others were opportunists, who saw a united Poland as a possible source of wealth.
‘I learnt from various contacts in Berlin that Doctor Franz Kessler was about to be appointed Second Secretary at Prussia House, in London. He was a founder member of The Thirty, and it was clear that someone in Berlin – you know who I mean – had arranged for him to galvanize The Thirty into action. That was when Baron Augustyniak decided to settle in England, and establish his Polish cultural institute there.’
‘You see, gentlemen,’ observed Baron Augustyniak, ‘I had myself been a member of The Thirty for nearly a year – the Okhrana had furnished me with all the necessary documents, incriminating letters, and so forth. Once I had arrived in England, it was easy enough for me to assume a kind of patronage of the group, who had no hesitation in confiding all their plans to me.’
‘I see,’ said Colonel Kershaw. ‘A very clever piece of organization on your part, Baron. And so the time was ripe, I suppose, for The Thirty to look around for an assassin?’
‘Indeed yes,’ said Augustyniak. ‘And so we recruited the man Anders Grunwalski, a terrorist who had already acquired a sinister reputation in Europe, and had just surfaced in England. He was a man of Polish extraction, easily persuaded as to the justice of the cause.’
‘And then, sir,’ said Box, truculently, suddenly breaking into the baron’s narrative, ‘you and your doubtful friends decided to stage that rehearsal on Tower Bridge?’
‘We did, Mr Box, and I can understand your anger at what happened. For reasons that Kessler was unwilling to divulge, The Thirty determined to stage a rehearsal of their assassination attempt at Polanska Gory. It was to take place at the opening of Tower Bridge, and Grunwalski was to plant a bomb of his own devising in the boiler room. He was also to test the possibility of sprinting up on to the bridge brandishing a revolver. He did both things successfully, but then, as you know, a zealous young soldier contrived to knock him unconscious. I was present, as you know, watching the proceedings through my telescope, and saw the whole incident. It was vital, of course, that Grunwalski was rescued, and a plan was concocted by Gerdler, who had access to stores of explosive. We blew our man out of that police station and spirited him away.’
Box opened his mouth to make a comment, and then thought better of it. He glanced at Kershaw, and saw that the colonel, too, had realized something of great import. Neither Count von und zu Thalberg nor Baron Augustyniak knew that Grunwalski was, in fact, one of Colonel Kershaw’s agents.
‘Where are Kessler and his associates now?’ asked Kershaw. ‘Surely they’re not here with you, in this fortress? I gather that they left England on the ninth.’
‘They have not yet arrived in Poland,’ said Augustyniak. ‘Kessler thought it prudent that they should lie low for a while near the Russian border, and cross over this coming Wednesday, the eighteenth. When they do, they will all be surprised and arrested before ever they reach the Catherine Bridge. Polanska Gory is thick with Okhrana gendarmerie. Nothing can prevent their total destruction.’
The baron treated the company to one of his uninhibited laughs. He laughed so much, that the gold-rimmed monocle fell from is eye.
‘Oh, Colonel Kershaw,’ he cried, ‘I still have fond memories of your little girl spy! It was impossible not to like her, and when she spilt mint sauce down the front of Kessler’s coat, I felt that you’d done me a personal favour by sending her to my house. She was very brave, you know. She hid in my silver cupboard, and overheard all the secrets of The Thirty. I’m quite certain that Kessler would have killed her, given the opportunity. When we all heard a noise in that cupboard, I flung open the door, dragged Susan out, and immediately accused her of being a thief. I knew, you see, that the safest place for her that night would be a police station. I rang the bell, and by good fortune my coachman entered the room immediately. He summoned the police, who came very quickly, and identified her as a common burglar. I’d been right about her, you see. So you employ criminals as well as law-abiding folk, Colonel Kershaw? Well, so do we, I must admit. The Okhrana, you know.’
‘It was very kind of you to save this girl from the tender ministrations of Kessler,’ said Kershaw, ‘but I can assure you, Baron, that I never employed this person in any capacity. It sounds to me that she was what the police said she was – a common thief.’
The baron smiled, but made no reply. So, my noble sir, thought Box, you evidently don’t know everything. I wouldn’t expect you to believe the colonel’s fibs, but I did think you’d realize that both your coachman, and the two policemen, were all Colonel Kershaw’s agents. We British are not as stupid as you evidently think we are.
‘What will happen to us now?’ asked Kershaw. The two noblemen exchanged a glance, which betrayed their air of puzzlement. Thalberg drew Augustyniak aside, and spoke rapidly to him in low tones. They saw the baron nod his assent to some whispered proposal.
‘The truth is, gentlemen,’ said Count von und zu Thalberg, ‘that your coming here has proved to be a grave embarrassment. The business of rounding up this gang of dreamers was something that Baron Augustyniak and I had already addressed. Kessler, Balonek, Haremza, Gerdler, Eidenschenk – all those men will be here on the eighteenth, together with Grunwalski and his hired keepers. They will all be immediately arrested as soon as they set foot in Polanska Gory. They are all known, and they are never without an Okhrana shadow. They are doomed, and so are the other members of The Thirty. But if it becomes known that you are here—’
‘If it becomes known that you are here, Colonel Kershaw,’ the baron interrupted, ‘there are people in St Petersburg who will immediately suspect that you have come here for some subtle and secret purpose connected with the British Government. There are people in Fontanka 16 who will want to believe that your Foreign Office is secretly in league with these fanatics.’
‘So what do you propose we do, Baron?’ Kershaw asked.
‘I propose that tomorrow I take you with me to survey Polanska Gory, and see the Catherine Bridge, where the attempt upon the Tsar’s life was to be made. You will be relieved to hear that the town is only a short walk away through the woods. Polanska Gory is full of my gendarmes, as well as units of the Russian Army, and if you are seen with me, all suspicion will be allayed. After that – well, I suggest that you make your way back discreetly into Germany, and take the swiftest means possible to return to England.’
‘Sir,’ said Box, when he and Kershaw were alone for a few minutes in the colonel’s room, ‘I don’t like this business one little bit. When I agreed to accompany you on this mission, I didn’t think I’d become involved with the Okhrana. It’s hardly my cup of tea.’
‘Nor mine, Box,’ Kershaw replied. ‘I’ve not exactly covered myself with glory over this escapade. Baron Augustyniak’s right: the best thing we can do is to leave Russia as soon as possible. Have you had dealings with the Okhrana?’
‘No, sir, but I’ve heard of it, and what I’ve heard hasn’t been very pleasant.’
‘Its roots stretch back to the late sixties,’ said Kershaw, ‘so that it has had decades to establish its power base. It operates from 16 Fontanka Street in St Petersburg, with secret offices in Moscow and Warsaw. The Okhrana uses covert operations and undercover agents, who often employ what is called “perlustration” – the reading of private correspondence – to gain the means to apply blackmail and extortion to achieve its ends. Its agents are everywhere, and its methods are merciless. So it’s not my cup of tea either, Mr Box.’
‘
What will happen to Kessler and the rest?’
‘They will all be handed over to the civil power, which is the custom in Russia. They will be sentenced to death, and executed soon afterwards. The lesser fry will be sent to forced labour camps in Siberia.’
‘And what about Grunwalski, sir? He’s your own agent.’
The colonel’s mouth set in a grim line, and not for the first time Box sensed the streak of ruthlessness that underlay the man’s outwardly quiet and unassuming exterior.
‘Grunwalski knows what to do if he finds escape impossible,’ said Kershaw. ‘Every day I remain in this place poses a danger for Baron Augustyniak and his agents. I have done what I could for Grunwalski, and I can do no more. His future, if he has one, now lies in the lap of the gods.’
A further meal was served to the four Englishmen in the great hall that evening, but neither Augustyniak, Thalberg nor Schmidt was present. Kershaw was coldly silent, as though fearing criticism from his colleagues, and the conversation was stilted and banal. By unspoken consent, the party retired to their cell-like rooms just after eleven o’clock.
Box lay awake for over an hour. The room had become stiflingly hot, as though the heat of the summer’s day had built up in the stone walls, and was now radiating back into the little room. But it was not only the heat that kept him awake. His mind constantly recalled his meeting with Colonel Kershaw at Burlington House a fortnight earlier, when they had examined together a great map of Europe spread out across a table.
He’d said to Kershaw that Germany seemed to be rubbing shoulders with all its foreign neighbours, and looked as though it might explode at any moment. He could see the borders now: France, Austria-Hungary, Russia, Switzerland…. Why should he remember that map now? Was there something about it that had escaped his notice?
The Aquila Project Page 18