‘I don’t quite understand, Your Majesty.’
‘Anyone may make and sell a ring bearing the emblem of a double-headed eagle — it implies no direct contact with myself or any member of my family.’
‘Very true, Your Majesty. However, I fear that the symbolism may still have a bearing on the case. The latest victim bears the mark too. He cannot have been killed by Yelena Filippovna. But indubitably he was killed by someone. Either by someone who inadvertently wore a Romanov ring, not realising that it would leave an imprint. Or by someone who wishes to generate a rumour that a series of children have been mercilessly killed by a Romanov. In short, Your Majesty, the case may yet prove to have a political aspect.’
‘There will be no rumour. You will see to it. If I do hear of any rumour, I will hold you accountable.’
Porfiry felt the tightening of a vice around his heart. ‘Naturally I shall do all in my power to keep the specific design of the ring out of the newspapers, while continuing to pursue a vigorous investigation. However, it is in the nature of rumour-’
‘Do not seek to make excuses in advance. Oh, I understand your trepidation. You are right to feel it. You will incur my most violent displeasure should this detail find its way into common currency. I understand too that you are concerned because — by your own admission — there is one in your department privy to the secrets of the case who is in the habit of talking to newspapermen. A loose tongue is more dangerous than a loose cannon. I warn you, your toleration of this person reflects badly on you, Porfiry Petrovich. If you have any suspicions as to who it might be, I advise you to come down heavily on them. Crush them, if necessary. There are rooms in the Peter and Paul Fortress where such a disloyal individual may be held indefinitely, at least until you have solved the case, free from their destructive involvement.’
‘I confess that I have no clear suspicions at this moment.’ Porfiry did not look at the Tsar as he said this.
‘Then form some. It cannot be so difficult. Your suspects are limited to those who know of the distinctive bruises on the children’s necks and also of the ring found on Lena’s thumb.’
‘Lena?’
‘Yelena Filippovna, I mean. I am beginning to think quite fondly of her now that I know she is not a murderer.’
‘But you did not know her when she was alive?’
The Tsar gave no indication of hearing the question. ‘I shall help you if you like. Let us run through the names of your staff and you will provide me with character sketches. I will be able to tell, I am sure, who is the most likely to betray the confidence of your office.’
Fortunately for Porfiry Petrovich there was a knock at the door. He had no wish to engage in this tedious exercise with the Tsar, and besides, his suspicions, he always felt, were his own affair.
Prince Shchegolskoy poked his head around the edge of the door. ‘The Foreign Minister is here to see you, Majesty. The situation in the Balkans requires your urgent attention.’
‘Ah yes, of course. I am afraid, Porfiry Petrovich, that I cannot offer you my assistance, after all. Affairs of state, you understand. If only my detractors could see how hard I work, would they attack me so? There is not a man among them who would willingly shoulder the burden I bear. My life is not my own.’
Porfiry gave a tense smile, which he hoped expressed his sympathy.
‘And remember,’ continued the Tsar, bringing his fist down heavily on his desk. ‘Clamp down and crush the snake in the grass. A room in the Fortress awaits. It may just as easily be put at your disposal if you fail to find another to occupy it.’
‘I will bear that in mind, Your Majesty.’ Porfiry stubbed out his cigarette in a heavy onyx ashtray on the Tsar’s desk and rose to his feet. ‘I am grateful to you for the condescension you have shown in assisting me in my enquiries. May I ask one final question, Your Majesty?’
The Tsar looked uncertainly towards Prince Shchegolskoy. ‘Please be so good as to ask the Foreign Minister to wait.’
‘Very good, Your Majesty.’ The prince backed out of the room, bowing as he went.
The Tsar turned expectantly to Porfiry Petrovich.
‘How am I to communicate with you, Your Majesty? You said that you wish to supervise the conduct of this case. If you are to do so, you must be kept informed.’
‘You are to present yourself here at this time every day to brief me on the progress of the case. Prince Shchegolskoy will supply you with a pass that will allow you access to the palace and my private quarters.’
‘There may be times when we are required to act quickly. Given your many duties it may prove impossible to attain your approval for a decisive course of action.’
‘In that eventuality, you must do what you judge best, and answer for the consequences later. This murderer must be brought to book. That is my first command to you. Everything else is subordinate to that and must work towards its execution. If it is necessary to act decisively, you must act decisively. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Pre-eminently so, and I am grateful to you.’
‘Till this time tomorrow then.’
‘If I may just impose on your indulgence for one moment longer, Your Majesty.’
‘Good heavens! You really are an exceptionally trying individual.’
‘Forgive me. But it appertains to the case. There is one other thing linking the dead children to Yelena Filippovna — and, incidentally, linking them to one another. They were all pupils at a charitable school — the Rozhdestvenskaya Free School. Yelena Filippovna was taking part in a fund-raising gala at the Naryskin Palace the night she was murdered. The Tsarevich was in attendance, as I have already intimated.’
‘You are determined to bring the Tsarevich into your investigation, I see.’
‘I am afraid to say that he brought himself into it.’
‘My son and I do not see eye to eye on many things. When I am dead, and he is tsar, you may be sure that his very first act will be to undo as much as he can of my life’s work. My rule has been based on a belief in the necessity of reform. Much good it has done me personally, but still … I have come to realise that the only way to ensure the survival of the Russian monarchy — indeed, of Russia — is to grant the people as many of their aspirations as is safe and reasonable. The path I have set out upon is one that leads eventually to democracy, I know. Better a managed and measured approach to democracy than its alternative: revolution. My son would have us turn back. In fact, he would rather we had never set foot on this path. To cede one inch to the democrats is to give up everything, he says. The Russian people are not ready for democracy. More than that: they never will be. It is not in their nature. They crave a strong leader. A father. He says that I have failed the Russian people with my weakness. When he is tsar, he says, they will feel again the firm hand of a stern father. No doubt he is impatient to begin. Every day that I am on the imperial throne weakens the power that will come to him — or so he sees it. In our family history, it is not unheard of for such generational differences to be resolved through bloody violence. Fortunately for my son, there is no shortage of individuals ready to do his dirty work for him without his even having to ask. What he fails to understand is that the same individuals will be on hand to mete out the same fate to him once he inherits. Unless, that is, I succeed in removing all vestige of popular support for these terrorists by giving the people what they want. What need for revolution when there is nothing to revolt against? But my son is not very bright. Even the slightest paradox baffles him. Certainly the notion that to hang on to power one must cede power is beyond his comprehension. He is driven by instinct, appetite and passion, rather than by intellect. That will make him a dangerous autocrat. But does it make him a child murderer? I do not believe so. Do not allow misguided ambition to lead you into making a monstrous mistake, Porfiry Petrovich.’