Boris Akunin - The Coronation

His Majesty’s three uncles made up the front row of the procession of grand dukes. I worked my way through to Georgii Alexandrovich’s sorrel Turkmen, took hold of its bridle (so that there were now two of us leading it – myself and the stall-master Count Anton Apollonovich Opraksin) and passed the note from Lind to His Highness without speaking.

When he saw the lock of hair, Georgii Alexandrovich’s face changed. He quickly ran his eye over the lines of writing, touched his spurs to the lean, muscular sides of his mount and began slowly overhauling the solitary figure of the sovereign. The count let go of the bridle in horror. And so did I.

There could be no doubt at all that a genuine storm would blow up in international politics. It was a certainty that today the coded telegrams would go flying to foreign courts and delegations: Admiral-General Georgii Alexandrovich demonstrates his special relationship with the tsar, and from now on can probably be regarded as the most influential individual in the Russian empire. So be it. There were more important things to deal with.

With his hands held proudly on his hips exactly like his nephew, His Highness approached the sovereign unhurriedly and rode on beside him, just half a length behind; the admiral-general’s portly figure made a far more majestic sight than the autocrat’s thin silhouette. From the twitching of His Highness’s magnificent moustache, I guessed that Georgii Alexandrovich was telling the emperor about the letter, without even turning his head. The tsar’s head quite clearly jerked to one side. Then his moustache, less magnificent than Georgii Alexandrovich’s, twitched in exactly the sameway, and the grand duke began gradually falling back, until he was level with his brothers again.

Since I was so close, I could hear Kirill Alexandrovich hiss furiously: ‘ Tu es fou, Georgie, ou quoi ?’ 3

I do not know if the people of Moscow noticed that when the procession entered Tverskaya Street the column began moving significantly more quickly, but in any case twenty minutes later the sovereign rode in through the Spassky Gate of the Kremlin and a quarter of an hour after that closed carriages drove away one after another from the porch of the Large Kremlin Palace. The individuals who were privy to the secret were hurrying to the Hermitage for an emergency meeting.

This time the visitors included our sovereign lady, whose decision would determine the outcome of the whole affair.

Since I had to arrange in haste for light hors d’œuvres, coffee, seltzer water and orangeade for Her Majesty (nothing so inflames the thirst and the appetite as a prolonged ceremonial procession), I missed the beginning of the discussion and had to reconstruct its course in retrospect, from what I heard the participants say.

For example, the delicate explanation to the tsarina concerning the sapphire neckband took place in my absence. When I came in, I found Her Majesty in an angry mood but already reconciled to the inevitable.

‘However, His Anointed Majesty has promised to me that this thing will quite definitely be returned to me entire and undamaged,’ our sovereign lady was saying to High Police Master Lasovsky just as I entered with the tray.

From these words, and also from the fact that Colonel Karnovich was sitting there with a rather sulky air, I concluded that following the previous day’s failure control of the operation had been transferred to the Moscow police. Fandorin was also here – I assumed in his capacity as an adviser.

Her Majesty had not had time to change, and she was still wearing her ceremonial dress of white brocade studded all over over with precious stones, and a heavy diamond necklace. The grand dukes had had no time to remove the stars of their various decorations, the watered silk ribbons of their medals and their chains of St Andrew, and all this iridescent shimmering made the room seem like a closet where the New Year’s tree decorations are kept.

‘Your Majesty,’ Lasovsky declared, ‘Iwarrant on my own head that the sapphires will remain perfectly safe, we will rescue Mikhail Georgievich, andwe will nab the entire gang.’ Herubbed his hands together eagerly and Alexandra Feodorovna wrinkled up her nose at this rather vulgar gesture. ‘Everything will go absolutely perfectly, because this time that villain Lind has laid the trap for himself. Allow me to explain – I have drawn up a plan.’

He moved aside all the glasses and cups that I had arranged so carefully, grabbed a starched napkin and set it down at the centre of the table.

‘This is Arbat Street and the area around it, the Second Prechistensky District. The governess will get out of her carriage here, at Maly Afanasievsky Lane, hesitate for a while as if uncertain which way to go, then turn in here, on to Bolshoi Afanasievsky Lane, from there on to Sivtsev Vrazhek Lane, and then . . .’

He carried on listing the turns for a quite a long time, checking them against a sheet of paper. Everyone listened attentively, although Her Majesty, if the disdainful set of her mouth was anything to go by, was thinking more about the odour of sweat that was clearly emanating from the overheated chief of police.

‘I have already calculated that she will pass twelve blocks in all, on which there are two hundred and thirty houses.’ Lasovky looked round triumphantly at the sovereign and rapped out: ‘ And in every one of those houses there will be one of my men. In every one! My assistants are arranging it at this very moment. And so, although the governess’s route will appear random, she will actually be in our field of vision all the time, but the villains will never realise it, since the detectives, agents and constables in plain clothes will be located inside the residents’ houses and apartments. If she walks the entire route and no one approaches her, she will go round a second time, and then a third – as many times as necessary.’

‘Rather smart, isn’t it?’ Simeon Alexandrovich asked smugly, very proud of his chief of police.

‘P-permit me to ask, Colonel,’ Fandorin suddenly put in. ‘Are you certain that Mademoiselle Declique, who has never been to Moscow before, will not be confused by your complicated route?’

Lasovsky frowned, knitting his brows.

‘I shall personally lock myself away in a room with her and make her learn off all the corners and turns by heart. We shall have an entire hour to do it.’

Fandorin seemed to be satisfied with this answer and he did not ask any more questions.

‘We have to send for the neckband,’ the sovereign said with a sigh. ‘And may God be with us.’

At half past four, as Mademoiselle, pale-faced and with clear bite marks on her lips, was on her way to the carriage, where two gendarmes officers in civilian clothes were waiting for her, Fandorin approached her in the corridor. I happened to be nearby and I heard every word.

‘There is only one thing required of you, My Lady,’ he said in a very serious voice. ‘Do not put the life of the boy at risk. Be observant, that is your onlyweapon. I do not knowwhat scheme Lind has in m-mind this time, but be guided by your own understanding, listen to no one and trust no one. The police are less interested in the life of your pupil than in avoiding publicity. And one more thing . . .’ He looked her straight in the eye and said what I had tried to say so recently, but had not known how. ‘Do not blame yourself for what happened. If you had not left the boy alone, your presence would still not have made any difference. Therewould only have been another unnecessary casualty, because Doctor Lind does not leave witnesses.’

Mademoiselle fluttered her eyelashes rapidly, and I thought I saw a teardrop fall from them.

‘ Merci, monsieur, merci. J’avais besoin de l’entendre. ’ 4