Boris Akunin - The Coronation

‘What about the Englishmen?’ I enquired vaguely, unsure whether anyone at the Hermitage knewanything about the duel.

‘Lord Banville has left. Yesterday at noon. He did not even attend the coronation. He simply left a note for His Highness and moved out. He looked very pale and angry, as if he was offended about something or unwell. But he left extremely generous gratuities for all the senior personnel. For you, Afanasii Stepanovich, a gold guinea.’

‘Change it into roubles and share it equally between Lipps and the two coachmen, from me. They have all worked very well,’ I said, deciding that I did not want any gratuity from that murderer. ‘And what of Mr Carr?’

‘He is still here. His Lordship even left his butler with Mr Carr – he left alone.’

‘And is Mademoiselle Declique missing her pupil very badly?’ I asked with feigned nonchalance, finally broaching the most important subject.

Therewere quiet footsteps in the corridor. I looked round and saw Fandorin. He was wearing a Hungarian housecoat with decorative cording; he had a net on his hair and felt slippers on his feet. A smooth creature, stepping gently through the half-light with a glitter in his eyes – a real tomcat.

‘The night d-doorman informed me that you had returned. But where is Endlung?’ he asked, without a greeting of any kind.

From the question about Endlung I assumed that Pavel Georgievich had told Fandorin about our expedition. Despite the intense dislike that this man provoked in me, I was impatient to talk to him.

‘You may go, Kornei Selifanovich,’ I said to my assistant, and the intelligent man left immediately. ‘The gentleman of the bedchamber is all right,’ I replied curtly, and in order to prevent any further disagreeable questions, I added: ‘Unfortunately, it was simply a waste of our time.’

‘Things are not going sowell here either,’ said Fandorin, taking a seat. ‘You d-disappeared yesterday evening, before Emilie had come back. She managed her assignment perfectly andwe determined the precise location of Lind’s secret hideaway. It turned out that he is hiding the child in the tomb of the Princess Bakhmetova, which stands close to the wall of the Novodevichy Convent. The princess took her own life because of an unhappy love a hundred years ago and they would not allow her to be buried inside the convent, so her disconsolate parents built a sort of mausoleum for her. The Bakhmetov line has since become extinct, so the tomb is dilapidated and the lock on the door is rusty. However, that is merely a facade. Mademoiselle tells me that every time she was led into the cold interior with her eyes blindfolded, she heard the sound of well-oiled hinges. We have not been able to obtain an accurate architectural plan of the chapel; all we know is that the tomb itself is located underground in the v-vault.’

Erast Petrovich began drawing on the table with his finger.

‘We made ready yesterday at dawn. This (he put down the breadbin) is the monastery. Here (he positioned the salt cellar beside it) we have the tomb. There is wasteland all around, and there is a pond here. (He splashed a little tea onto the oilcloth.) In short, there is noway to approach unnoticed. We have positioned men in disguise around the spot at a considerable distance but not made any attempt to go inside.’

‘Why not?’ I asked.

‘The point is, Ziukin, that since the Time of Troubles all the ground around the Novodevichy Convent has been riddled with underground passages. It was besieged by the Poles and then the False Dmitry, and later the Streltsy dug under it to free theTsarina Sophia from captivity. I am sure that Lind, being the highly prudent and cautious individual that he is, chose this spot for a good reason. There must be a line of retreat – that is always his tactic. And so I decided to take a different approach.’

He knitted his brows and sighed.

‘The delivery of the stone was set for five o’clock yesterday, since the coronation was due to conclude at two. Immediately after the ceremony the Orlov was removed from the sceptre—’

‘Permission was given for the exchange?’ I exclaimed. ‘So she was wrong, and they decided to save Mikhail Georgievich after all!’

‘Who is she ?’ Fandorin asked, but he could see from my face that therewould be no answer, and he continued: ‘Iwas entrusted with the Orlov on one condition. I gave a guarantee that Lind would not keep the stone under any circumstances. Not under any circumstances,’ he repeated significantly.

I nodded. ‘That is, if a choice has to be made between the life of His Highness and the diamond . . .’

‘Precisely so.’

‘But how can we be sure that the doctor will not manage to keep the Orlov? Howwill Mademoiselle Declique be able to stop him? And then, you said yourself that there are underground passages . . .’

‘I set one condition for Lind, which Emilie communicated to him the day before yesterday. Since we are not dealing with any ordinary jewel here but a holy relic, the d-diamond cannot be entrusted to a weak woman. The governess was to be accompanied by an escort. One man, unarmed, so that Lind need not fear an attack . . .’

‘And who was this escort?’

‘I was,’ Fandorin said ruefully. ‘It was good idea, don’t you think?’

‘And what happened?’

‘It didn’t work. I disguised myself as an old stooped footman but clearly not carefully enough. Emilie and I waited for more than an hour in the cathedral. No one approached us. And yet the day before yesterday, when she was alone, there were no difficulties: another note, a closed carriage in one of the side streets nearby and so on. Yesterday we waited until a quarter past six and came back with nothing for our pains.’

‘Surely Lind could not have abandoned the exchange?’ I asked in a dismal voice.

‘Indeed not. Therewas a letterwaiting for us at the Hermitage, delivered in the same manner as before, by the postman but without any stamp. Here, read it, especially since it concerns you directly.’

I cautiously took the sheet of paper, which gave off a faint aroma of scent.

‘The Earl of Essex?’ I asked.

‘In person. B-but read it, read it.’

‘I have decided to make the Romanov dynasty a generous gift on the occasion of the coronation . . .’ I read the first sentence in French and everything began swimming in front of my eyes. Could it really be?

But no, my joy was premature. I batted my eyelids to disperse the haze and read the note through to the end:

I have decided to make the Romanov dynasty a generous gift on the occasion of the coronation. A gift that is worth a million, for that is the sum agreed as one day’s payment for the Orlov, which I have kindly loaned to the Russian monarchy. And so you may keep the stone for one more day, entirely without charge. After all, it would be impolite of me, to say the least, to cast a shadow over your day of celebration.

We will complete our little transaction tomorrow. The governess must be in the cathedral at seven o’clock in the evening. I understand your reluctance to entrust such a valuable treasure to this woman, and I have no objections to a single escort. However, it must be someone I know, that is Monsieur Doggy Sideburns.

Yours sincerely ,

Doctor Lind

My heart began beating faster and faster.

‘So this is why you are telling me all this?’

‘Yes,’ said Fandorin, looking into my eyes. ‘Afanasii Stepanovich, I need to ask you to take part in this dangerous business. You are not a police agent or a member of the armed services; you are not obliged to risk your life to p-protect the interests of the state, but circumstances have determined that without your help—’