Boris Akunin - The Coronation

‘I guessed yesterday morning, as we were seeing her off to the Hermitage. Do you remember that she joked about knights with a yard keeper’s crowbar? That was careless. How could a prisoner who was chained in the cellar see you and me breaking in the door with the yard keeper’s crowbar? She was unlikely even to have heard the noise. Only someone who was peeping from behind a curtain could have observed what we were doing.’

Erast Petrovich grimaced as he bathed his wounded shoulder with water from the stream.

‘Can’t tell if the bone was hit . . . I don’t think so. At least it was small calibre. But such accuracy! Against the sun, without aiming! An incredible woman . . . And so, after her strange words about the crowbar, the scales fell from my eyes, so to speak. I wondered exactly why the bandits had kept Emilie in her negligee? After all, sexual harassment by this band of misogynists was out of the question; indeed, from what she said they must have found the very sight of the female body repulsive. And now recall the items of men’s clothing scattered about in the house. It’s all very simple, Afanasii Stepanovich. You and I caught Lind by surprise and, instead of running, he (if you don’t mind, I shall speak about the doctor as a male, as I am accustomed to doing) made a bold move. He threw off his male clothing, hastily pulled on a woman’s shift from Mademoiselle Declique’s wardrobe, went down into the cellar and chained himself to the wall. Lind had very little time. He was not even able to hide the casket.’

Slowly and cautiously, an inch at a time, I transferred my glance to the recumbent body. I wanted to take another look at the lifeless face, but I did not get that far – my eye was caught by a dark bruise showing from under the open collar of the habit. It was an old bruise, one I had seen in the apartment on Arkhangelsky Lane. And then the dense shroud of fog enveloping my brain suddenly quivered and thinned.

‘But what about the bruises and contusions?’ I shouted. ‘She didn’t beat herself! No. Everything you say is lies! There has been a terrible mistake!’

Fandorin grabbed my elbow with a vice-like hand and shook me.

‘Calm down. The bruises and contusions were from Khodynsk Field. He was seriously battered there as well. After all, he was caught in just as bad a crush as we were.’

Yes. Yes. Fandorin was right. The shroud of fog enveloped me once again in its protective mantle, and I was able to carry on listening.

‘I have had enough time to reconstruct the entire plan of Lind’s Moscow operation.’ Erast Petrovich ripped a handkerchief apart with his teeth, bound up his wound crudely and wiped large beads of sweat off his forehead. ‘The doctor made his preparations unhurriedly, well in advance. After all, everyone already knew when the coronation would be last year. The idea was brilliant – to blackmail the entire imperial house. Lind calculated that fear of a worldwide scandal would drive the Romanovs to make any sacrifice. The doctor chose an excellent position for managing his operation – inside the very family against whom he intended to strike. Who would ever suspect the excellent governess of such an outrage? With his extensive connections, it was not hard for Lind to forge references. He gathered together an entire t-team. In addition to his usual helpers, he engaged the Warsaw bandits and they put him in touch with the Khitrovka gang. Oh, this man was a truly remarkable strategist!’

Fandorin looked thoughtfully at the woman lying at his feet. ‘It is strange that I cannot say “she” and “she was” about Lind . . .’

I finally managed to force myself to look at Emilie’s dead face. It was calm and mysterious, and a bloated black fly had settled on the tip of her snub nose. I squatted down and drove the vile insect away.

‘But, after all, the most important secret of the doctor’s power was precisely femininity. It was a very strange gang, Ziukin, a gang of extortionists and murderers ruled by love. All of Lind’s men were in love with him – with her, each in his own way. “Mademoiselle Declique’s” true genius was that this woman was able to find the key to any man’s heart, even a heart absolutely unequipped for love.’

I sensed his gaze on me, but I did not look up. There were already two flies circling above Emilie’s face; they had to be driven away.

‘Do you know what Somov told me b-before he died, Ziukin?’

‘Is he dead too?’ I asked indifferently.

Just at that moment I noticed an entire colony of ants climbing up Emilie’s sleeve, so I had plenty to keep me busy.

‘Yes, I checked him very simply. I turned my back to him. And of course he immediately attempted to take advantage of my apparent g-gullibility. There was a short struggle, which ended with your assistant impaling himself on his own knife. Even as he wheezed his last, he was still struggling to reach for my throat. I am not easily frightened but by God the sight of such a frenzy sent cold shivers running down my spine. I shouted at him: “What, what did you all find in her?” And do you know what answer he gave me, Ziukin? “Love.” That was the final word he spoke. Oh, she knew how to inspire love. I believe you too felt the influence of Doctor Lind’s charms, did you not? I’m afraid that you were too scrupulous altogether. As far as I can tell, Somov fared better than you did. I found this on him.’

He took a small silk bag out of his pocket and extracted a lock of chestnut hair from it. I recognised the hair immediately as Emilie’s. So that was the kind of French lessons they had. But there was no time for me to feel upset. The cursed flies had performed an outflanking manoeuvre and I caught one, the most persistent, on Mademoiselle’s ear.

‘Now it is clear why Doctor Lind had no women friends and was regarded as a m-misogynist. Homosexuality has nothing to do with it. Emilie cunningly led us astray by laying a false trail. We must assume that Lord Banville left the empire long ago, after making the poor boy Glinsky pay for the loss of his lover. Ah the exquisite Mr Carr, the innocuous fancier of blue carnations and green forget-me-nots! He was killed to make us even more sure that Lind was Lord Banville. While you and I played the idiot and chose pantaloons and stockings for the doctor, Mademoiselle must have searched the apartment, failed to find the casket or the Orlov and decided to make another move in her complicated game by telephoning Somov at the Hermitage and ordering him to do away with Carr. The operation was entering its final stage. Lind had to get back the jewels and take possession of the diamond.’

‘No!’ I exclaimed, overcome by a sudden horror. ‘No, there’s something wrong here! You are mistaken after all!’

He gaped at me in amazement, and I, choking on my sobs, told him about my last telephone conversation with Emilie.

‘If . . . if she was Doctor Lind, then why did she refuse? I . . . myself offered to give her the casket and the diamond! She would not take them! She said she trusted you and I must not get in your way.’

But this did not unsettle Fandorin at all. ‘Naturally,’ he said, nodding. ‘The loot on its own was not enough for the doctor. He – dammit, I mean she – wanted my head as well. Once she had found out the time and place of the meeting from you, she had the opportunity to conclude her Moscow operation at a single stroke. In a most triumphant manner, redressing all the failures and settling all accounts in full.’

Erast Petrovich hesitated. He looked as if he was feeling guilty and intended to beg my pardon.

I was not mistaken – he did indeed start to apologise: ‘Afanasii Stepanovich, I have treated you cruelly. I used you without explaining anything to you or taking you into my confidence. But I could not tell you the truth. You were captivated by Emilie and would never have believed me. Yesterday evening I deliberately spoke abruptly to you on the telephone and did not g-give you any information. I needed to provoke your s-suspicion. I knew that, assailed by doubts, you would turn for advice to the only person you trusted, Mademoiselle Declique. And you would tell her everything. I also chose the monk’s clothes deliberately. Lind, with his – O Lord, with her – uncanny quick-wittedness, was bound to realise what a convenient costume it would be for her.