Evelyn Weiss - Murder and Revolution

“So was I.”

“Please accept my apologies for the revolver. I thought it best to have any conversation with my pursuer with a gun in my hand, even though I knew she was female. There are many ruthless people about – even of the fairer sex. I’m sorry.”

He reaches out and shakes my hand, and I smile. My heart still thumps, but relief is slowly flooding through me. But my mind is whirling: I’m trying to make sense of this situation.

“So – Lord Buttermere… you are the butterfly collector?”

“Oh, you know about that, do you? My own title suggested the idea to me – Buttermere, butterfly. A flight of fancy. I was pretending to be an eccentric, rather ridiculous English gentleman. A foolish man obsessed with butterflies, even in the midst of a world at war.”

I’m starting to breathe a little easier now. Lord Buttermere’s refined face crinkles in a quiet, wry laugh.

“It’s not a brilliant disguise, I admit. You’ve unmasked me. Hardly my finest hour as the Head of British Intelligence. But, Miss Frocester, you are one of the few people in the world with the talent to find me out.”

“Thank you. But why are you here?”

“I pretended to be a butterfly collector to cover my visit to Tri Tsarevny. I came to this museum first, before my visit there, so that I could appear to have some knowledge of Baltic butterflies when I visited the Tsarina. But I came back to the museum today for a different reason. The view from the butterfly room – come with me, and see.” He points towards the staircase, and raises an eyebrow. “It will also, of course, give you an opportunity to collect your coat.”

“It’s not my coat. But that’s another story.”

We climb the stairs and go back into the cabinet-lined room. The windows look out across the street at the hospital. We can see through a ground-floor window into the professor’s room. The tea-tray is still sitting on the window sill. Axelson’s sleeping face lies back on his pillow; Yuri slouches in his chair, looking bored.

“So you came up to this room to keep an eye on the professor?”

“Yes, Miss Frocester. I heard that he was in hospital because someone tried to kill him. This window is the perfect observation spot. I waited and watched… I could see a female figure in the professor’s room. Then, twenty minutes ago, I saw the same figure, dressed in a Russian coat, crossing the road to the museum.”

“Why don’t we both simply go and keep watch over Professor Axelson in his room?”

“Because there may be people watching me . I’m worried that our enemies have already found me out – hence my gun. I don’t want to increase the professor’s danger by drawing attention to him. It’s safer for him if I don’t visit him. It’s also inadvisable for you and I to meet again. But it’s lucky that we have met now. It gives me a chance to explain – and most of all, to warn you. You see, what happened to you at the cottage in the woods is only the start.”

“Could you begin at the beginning? Why on earth did you come to Russia, Lord Buttermere?”

“As you’ve been working with Axelson, you’ll be aware that Svea Håkansson had damning evidence about Rasputin.”

“Yes.”

“Miss Håkansson went to Tri Tsarevny to tell Rasputin to step down from power. If he refused, she would reveal her information to the Tsar and Tsarina.

Before going to Tri Tsarevny, she contacted British Intelligence, and told me about her mission. She was afraid, you see. She knew that if she met Rasputin alone, she would be in serious danger.”

“But Sweden isn’t even an ally of Britain. Why did British Intelligence decide to get involved?”

“Miss Håkansson found that Rasputin is within an ace of getting a cease-fire between Russia and Germany. If that happens, Germany will rule the Baltic. They would control all Swedish trade, making Sweden an economic pawn in Germany’s game.

But Britain too desperately needs to stop Rasputin. Because a cease-fire with Russia would allow Germany to transfer millions of troops to the Western Front to fight against us.

So although I had never met Svea Håkansson, she and I had a single purpose – Rasputin must be stopped. Given the high stakes involved, I decided to come to Russia myself, and help her. She and I were to meet on the afternoon of July 29 th, to plan how we would confront Rasputin – together. But by the time I got to Tri Tsarevny, she was beyond help. I arrived half an hour after she died.”

I glance across the road into the professor’s room. He’s still sleeping like a baby. I think back to yesterday, and those lonely little islands on the lake. Lord Buttermere continues his story.

“My own cover story for my mission was simple. I obtained a letter signed by King George of England – who is of course the Tsar’s cousin – to say that I was a friend of his, and a butterfly collector. The letter asked the Tsar and Tsarina if I could visit Tri Tsarevny for the day, to study the insect life of the area. The letter stated that although I was not visiting on official business, my connections to all the noble families of England ‘would help strengthen Britain’s support for Russia’. The Tsarina wrote back to say that I would be most welcome to visit.”

“Lord Buttermere – do you think Svea might have met Rasputin by herself, before you arrived?”

“Miss Håkansson was horribly aware of the risks of meeting him alone. But I don’t know for sure that she didn’t meet him.”

“Professor Axelson and I went to Tri Tsarevny. There was no-one there, and our guide, who was called Mr Bukin, told us nothing.”

“I’ll tell you what I know – which isn’t much. When I visited the place, a small boat from Ivangorod took me along a remote creek to a quay, where I was met by two guards. They said they had been told to expect my visit. I was surprised that they didn’t even check my papers. Then one of them suggested that I stroll around the gardens until someone was free to meet me. He even took the time to tell me about the old legends – the three princesses, the islands and so on – as if he was some sort of tourist guide. His lax attitude gave me serious doubts about the security of the place.”

“Professor Axelson thought the same. So what did you do then?”

As the guard suggested, I went up the steps into the garden, but I could see no-one around the main house; it seemed deserted. In hindsight, I realise that they were all down at the lake, looking at the murder scene. But at the time I had no idea what was happening. I simply waited in the gardens for someone to appear.

Finally, I saw a man coming up from the lakeside. He seemed to be some kind of butler. He told me that a ‘foreign lady’ had ‘had an accident’. Then he showed me into a room in the main house, and the Tsarina came in to see me. I remember her face: white as death. She was the one who first used the word ‘murder’. She apologized for the circumstances – and asked me to leave immediately. She said she was particularly keen that her young son Alexei, who is a delicate boy, should not be disturbed, or even become aware of what had happened. Of course, I had no option. If I had asked to stay on there—”

“I understand. They would have suspected your disguise. You had to play the eccentric English butterfly collector.”

“Sadly, yes. Never have I been more frustrated. Miss Håkansson’s death is a disaster for all the Allies in this war; her plan to unseat Rasputin was, as it were, our last throw of the dice in our attempts to help Russia. And since then, I’ve been able to discover nothing about the murder. I’ve found Ohkrana impossible to work with.”

“Why is that? I thought they existed to support the Tsar. The imperial family want the Håkansson murder solved.”