I had not known that Foma Anikeevich was informed about Fandorin, but was not in the least surprised.
The Japanese replied staidly: ‘Yes, ver’, ver’ many. But that no’ importan’. Importan’ that my master will not wive if Dokutor Rind wive.’
It was not said in the most elegant fashion, but I understood the meaning.
Mademoiselle spoke in a different accent, far more pleasing to the ear: ‘But what can he do, your master?’
‘Evewyfin’,’ Masa said laconically. ‘Master can do anyfin’. Dokutor Rind will not wive.’
‘Lady, gentlemen, I propose the following . . .’
It immediately went quiet, and even Mr Freyby looked up from his book, peering curiously at Foma Anikeevich over the top of his spectacles.
‘Our gentlemen, unfortunately, are not on good terms with each other. That could be bad for the cause. Let us therefore agree that at least we servants will act together. We shall keep each other informed and protect His Majesty and Their Highnesses against making mistakes. Insofar as it lies in our power.’
That was how he spoke – simply and wisely.
At this point my assistant Somov stuck his head into the servants’ parlour and pressed his hand to his heart as he apologised: ‘Afanasii Stepanovich, gentlemen, I beg your pardon, but Her Highness is asking for Mademoiselle Declique.’
Then he bowed and withdrew.
‘Ah, yes, Monsieur Ziukin,’ the governess said to me. ‘Poor Xenia does not know. What can I tell her?’
‘Do not tell Her Imperial Highness about Lind’s threats,’ I said sternly, somewhat annoyed by such familiarity in speaking of Xenia Georgievna. ‘Simply tell Her Imperial Highness that the kidnappers are demanding a ransom and the money will be paid.’
I believe that she left the room feeling duly chastened.
A few minutes later I had reason to regret Mademoiselle’s absence, because Mr Freyby suddenly parted his lips to utter a brief phrase.
‘What was that you were so good as to say?’ Foma Anikeevich asked.
‘He say “A spy”,’ Masa translated – apparently he understood English.
‘A “spy” in what sense?’ I asked, puzzled.
The Briton looked hopefully at Foma Anikeevich, who suddenly frowned pensively.
‘Mr Freyby is quite right. Theremust have been a spy at work. The kidnappers were too well informed about your movements yesterday. I do not wish to upset you, Afanasii Stepanovich, but it is very probable that Doctor Lind’s spy is one of your staff. Can you vouch for your servants?’
I felt the colour drain from my face.
‘Not completely. I can vouch for those from St Petersburg. All of them apart from Lipps – the one who is serving us – are old and well-tried colleagues. But I have a temporary staff of nine here and I don’t know the local staff at all; Somov is in charge of them.’
‘Then extreme caution is required,’ Luka Emelyanovich declared solemnly.
Foma Anikeevich spoke to the Englishman: ‘Thank you, Mr Freyby, for a most pertinent comment.’
The English butler shrugged in incomprehension, and I remembered that I had the lexicon he had givenmeinmypocket.
I looked up the words and said: ‘Tenk yoo, Meester Freebee.’
He nodded and stuck his nose back into his Trollope (I had looked in the library and now knew that this was the name of an English novelist).
For a while we carried on discussing the means by which we could maintain confidential contact with each other, and then the meeting was interrupted by Somov sticking his head in at the door again. From the expression on his face I realised that something out of the ordinary had happened.
I excused myself and went out into the corridor.
‘Look here,’ Somov said, whispering for some reason, and held out a white envelope. ‘This has been found. The doorman picked it up. No one knows where it came from.’
I took the envelope and read the message in capital letters that was written on it in penciclass="underline" AVEC LES COMPLIMENTS DE DR LAND.
It cost me an incredible effort of will to maintain my composure.
‘Where was it found?’
‘On the porch, right outside the doors. The doorman went out to see if the rain had stopped, and it was lying there.’
That means it could have been left from the outside, I thought. They climbed over the fence and left it, very simple. That made me feel better, but only a little.
Of course, I did not open the envelope, although it was not sealed – I took it up to the first floor. If Somov had not been watching me, I would have run.
Before entering the small drawing room, I stopped and listened at the door. I always do this, but not in order to eavesdrop, only to avoid interrupting any important conversations or intimate moments by knocking.
I heard Kirill Alexandrovich’s thick, angry voice speaking in the room: ‘Nicky, howcan you be such a blockhead! Youmustn’t say anything about concessions during the audience with Li Hunchan! Under no circumstances! You’ll ruin everything!’
I could not help shaking my head and thinking that things could not go on like this for much longer. The sovereign was by no means as weak-willed as Their Highnesses imagined. And he had a vindictive streak.
I knocked loudly, handed over the message and immediately went back out into the corridor.
I had to wait no more than five minutes. Georgii Alexandrovich looked out and beckoned to me with his finger. His expression seemed rather strange to me.
The sovereign and the other grand dukes also looked at me in the same way – as if they were seeing me for the first time or, perhaps, as if they had only just noticed that there was a man by the name of Afanasii Stepanovich Ziukin living in the world. I did not like it at all.
‘You know French, don’t you?’ Kirill Alexandrovich asked. ‘Here, read this.’
I took the unfolded sheet of paper with a certain degree of trepidation and read:
Your terms are accepted, but the payment for each day of deferment is one million. Tomorrow at three in the afternoon your intermediary must drive along the Garden Ring Road alone, in an open carriage, from Kaluga Square in the direction of Zhitnaya Street. The money must be in a suitcase, in twenty-five-rouble treasury notes. I shall regard the slightest sign of foul play from your side as releasing me from all commitments and shall return the prince to you as promised – in pieces.
One final thing. The intermediary must be the servant who was in the park: with a wart on his cheek and the doggy sideburns.
Yours sincerely,
Doctor Lind
The first response I felt was resentment. Favoris de chien?1 How dare he call my well-groomed whiskers that?
It was only afterwards that the full, frightening meaning of the message struck me.
1Doggy sideburns.
8 May
Following long telephone conversations between the Petrovsky Palace, the governor general’s residence and the Hermitage, control of the operation was entrusted to Colonel Karnovich. The high police master of Moscow was instructed to provide every possible assistance, while Fandorinwas assigned the rather indefinite role of adviser, and even then only at the stubborn insistence of Georgii Alexandrovich who, following the rescue of his daughter, believed fervently in the exceptional qualities of the retired deputy for special assignments.
Like everyone else, I knew very little aboutKarnovich, because this mysterious man had only made his appearance at the foot of the throne very recently. He was not obviously fitted for this responsible, indeed one might say crucially important, post either by age, or rank or social connection, especially since before this exalted appointment Karnovich had performed the modest duties of head of one of the provincial offices of gendarmes. However, following the sensational exposure of an anarchist terrorist organisation, people had begun speaking of the colonel as the rising star in the field of political detective work, and soon this quiet, unprepossessing gentleman, who always kept his eyes hidden behind blue-tinted spectacles, was the head of His Majesty’s bodyguard – a truly prodigious advancement which did not endear Karnovich to the members of the court. But then, when had the head of the court police, who, by the very nature of his job, is exceptionally well informed about the weaknesses and secrets of individuals who stand close to the throne, ever enjoyed the sympathy of the court? Such is the nature of the job.