The Fabergé Secret
Page 28
‘There you go, old-timer,’ the Cossack said in a pleasant tone of voice.
‘Now off with you,’ said the other Cossack. He yanked his horse away from the wagon bed.
Instead of going in the opposite direction, the Cossacks rode along with the wagon, chatting about the proper sharpening method for their swords. Dimitri listened to the banter, gritting his teeth. After a few more nerve-wracking minutes, the soldiers took a right onto another street.
‘Are you all right, Your Highness?’ Josef asked in a low voice.
‘Yes, Josef. When will we get there?’ Dimitri asked.
‘Just a few more minutes, Your Highness.’
The wagon finally stopped. It was very quiet, but Dimitri could hear water lapping gently against stone. He knew they were somewhere along the Embankment overlooking the Gulf of Finland. Josef shifted the load to the back of the wagon, to make it easier for them to slide out.
‘Quickly, Your Highness,’ Josef whispered.
The coachman pulled out Dimitri by his arms, then Katya. Hay clung to their clothes and hair. They were at the red granite wall of the quay on the Embankment. A fishing boat moored below awaited them. The boatman caught the bags Josef tossed down. Then Josef took hold of Katya’s waist, and lowered her down. Dimitri had swung his leg over the ledge when a voice called out.
‘You there! What do you think you’re doing?’
A city policeman ran toward them. He glanced over the quay wall and saw the boat below, then turned to Dimitri, who still had one leg over the wall.
‘It’s against the law to board a boat like that. You must do it at an official customs dock,’ the policeman snarled. ‘You could be smuggling illegal goods. Let me see your papers.’
‘Certainly, your honor.’ Dimitri smiled at the young man, then hurled himself off the wall. He crashed down onto the deck of the boat. At that moment, the vessel revved its engine and chugged off at full speed.
Enraged, the constable started screaming at the boat to halt.
‘Smugglers!’ he shouted. ‘Stop!’
The boat was now about forty yards away. When he saw that it wasn’t going to stop, the policeman drew a revolver from his holster.
‘Stop, I said!’ he yelled as he fired a shot at the boat, then took better aim and prepared to shoot again.
Meanwhile, Josef had circled around the young policeman. He grabbed him from behind by his collar and the seat of his pants, then tossed him like a bag of flour over the quay wall.
The boatman, a gray-haired, grizzled seaman, led Dimitri and Katya to the cabin below. He hid them in an opening in the wall, placing a false panel over it.
‘As a matter of fact, I am a smuggler,’ the boatman told them with a smile.
In the total darkness of the recess, Dimitri and Katya held hands. They didn’t say a word to each other; both were lost in thought. For the first time in hours, Dimitri was able to sit quietly and think clearly. The hum of the boat’s engine and the constant rush of the water against the hull were the only sounds he heard. He realized that Nicky finally knew he was a revolutionary, which was true – and he also believed he was an assassin, which wasn’t true. He’d never forget the look in his friend’s eyes. Sadness engulfed Dimitri as he thought of the Grand Duchesses hearing that he had tried to kill their mother and father. He knew the time would come when the Tsar discovered his involvement in the revolution, and they would have parted as friends forever. But he certainly didn’t want it to happen the way it did today. Still, he’d had made the right decision to join the revolt. He just couldn’t stand by any longer. He thought of writing Nicky a letter after he was settled in New York, explaining why he’d distributed the books and fliers, and that he hadn’t known about the bomb in the gift. But it would be of no use. He knew Nicholas and Alexandra would never forgive him for what he did.
Dimitri heard Katya sobbing quietly. He knew she was thinking that she would never see her homeland again. It broke her heart to leave her family. Who would look after her father? She’d never see Noskey again. Dimitri would never see Russia again, either. The minute he set foot back in the country, he’d be arrested.
Dimitri wrapped his arm around Katya. They sat there in silence. He thought back to the bizarre events of the groundbreaking ceremony earlier that day. It suddenly dawned on him that the Tchaikovsky Memorial would never be built – since it had been designed by a revolutionary assassin. None of his buildings done in the Style Moderne would ever be constructed. His heart sank at the thought. He had made a great creative breakthrough, and now it was over.
He could feel Katya’s shallow breathing. He pulled her closer and rested his cheek against her hair and took in the sweet scent. He smiled. What did it matter? His buildings had been the most important thing to him, but he’d just been fooling himself – they’d only been a substitute for the emotional void in his life since the failure of his marriage. What was truly most important was sitting right next to him.
‘We made it, my darling,’ he whispered in Katya’s ear.
FIFTY-NINE
The steamship’s black hull sliced through the North Atlantic waves with ease. Dimitri always thought of these great ships as buildings traveling on their sides. The three blue-and-white smokestacks soaring above the top deck reminded him of American skyscrapers. He loved to stand at the rail of the bows and feel the cool breeze and spray. After two days at sea from Stockholm, his mood had brightened. The unpleasant memories of the last few days were still there, although they didn’t cut him as sharply. But the sadness at having to flee Russia hadn’t diminished in the least. He was now homeless, uprooted from the place he’d loved.
He felt a tap on his arm. Katya snuggled up to him and rested her head on his shoulder.
‘A kopeck for your thoughts,’ she said.
‘That’s about all they’re worth,’ he replied.
‘The Yanks say they’re worth a penny,’ Katya said, gazing out at the vastness of the Atlantic Ocean.
‘We’ll have to get jobs in the New World. You as a doctor, me as an architect,’ Dimitri said in a wistful voice.
‘Yes, it may be a struggle at first. You’ll have to give up the caviar for your horse for a while.’ Katya smiled.
‘Such a shame,’ Dimitri replied.
They stood at the bows in silence for a few minutes.
‘I was thinking of Lara,’ he said with a smile. ‘You really don’t know the good there can be in a person.’
‘Then, Lara, if it’s a girl,’ Katya said cheerfully.
With a puzzled expression, Dimitri gazed into the cornflower-blue eyes he’d loved ever since the first time he met her at the Catherine Palace ball.
Katya looked down and she patted her belly.
With inexpressible happiness, he pulled her to him and kissed her deeply.
Arms entwined, together they turned to face toward the bows of the boat, the immense sea and their future rushing toward them.
‘Yes, Lara, if it’s a girl.’