Iris Johansen - Deadlock

"I wish to ask you about Nicholas Zelov and what he said to you when he came to visit you."

"I believe you probably know a good deal, or you wouldn't be here."

"We think he offered you three amulets and Mikhail Zelov's book… for a price."

"That's true. But I didn't have his price." "So you involved Peter Joslyn?"

He nodded. "To my infinite regret. I saw no other way. Nicholas Zelov was not a good man. Greed would have goaded him to go to someone else, perhaps even the government. I couldn't allow that."

"And when you couldn't retrieve the hammer that contained the final amulet, Joslyn turned Staunton loose to get it back."

He flinched. "It wasn't Peter's fault. He didn't know what kind of man Babin had hired until recently. He only did as I asked. I had to get the hammer. I thought it my duty."

"Duty?"

"To my friend, to the man whom I respected more than anyone in my life. I didn't want all his work and sacrifice to go for nothing."

She studied his face. "Bishop Sergai Nartova?"

He nodded. "He was my idol. He was the reason I entered the church. He was as close to being a saint as man can be."

"Saint? You knew he stole from the Church?"

"He had to make a choice. As long as he paid off Mikhail Zelov, then Zelov would be satisfied to stay away and not try for the ham¬mer. If he didn't have the final amulet, then he couldn't go after the Tsar's treasure." He shook his head. "He couldn't be permitted to have that kind of power. He would have been Satan on earth."

"He came very close without the treasure."

"But imagine if he had billions to call upon. My friend, Sergai Nar¬tova, kept him leashed." He smiled faindy. "And all the while Zelov thought he was in control. He told Sergai that unless he gave him money, he would turn the amulets and hammer over to the new Communist gov¬ernment. It was a formidable threat at the time. The Communists were draining us, forming a godless nation, and Nartova didn't want them to gain more influence by finding the fortune of the Tsar they'd murdered. But that was not the reason he risked his soul to keep Zelov at bay."

"Evil," Irana said. "He thought Zelov was close to being an archde-mon?

"You do understand. I thought you would." He nodded. "He told me once that he knew from the moment he met Zelov that he realized what he was or could be. He read his book and even visited Jerusalem to try to find out more about him. When Zelov came to him, it was his chance to harness him and keep him from becoming what he was destined to be."

"He went to all those lengths?"

"Yes. He should have been Patriarch of all Russia. He gave up everything to come here to Ekaterinaburg and watch over the ham¬mer. For God's sake. For mankind's sake."

"And you didn't tell anyone all these years? Even after Nartova died? You knew that the hammer was in that museum, and you didn't try to get it out?"

"Why should I? Nothing really changed in the government until the eighties. The Communists would have snatched the Tsar's trea¬sure and used it to keep the nation under their thumb. After Nartova died, I wanted only to follow in his footsteps. He made the decision; I just kept to his guidelines." He made a face. "Though I nearly failed him. Two years ago, the Patriarch summoned me to Moscow for a month. When I came back, I found the curator of the museum had sent the exhibit on loan to the museum in Afghanistan. I couldn't get it back. The area had been put out of bounds because of heavy fight¬ing in the area. All I could do was wait and watch."

"Until Nicholas Zelov came to see you."

He nodded. "It was as if Mikhail Zelov had reached out from the grave and tried to destroy everything Sergai Nartova had tried to do."

"The Communists' power was tremendously lessened."

"But they wouldn't have permitted the Tsar's fortune to leave the country. They would have absorbed it, devoured it. And, if they had not done it, the Romanov heirs would have been fighting for the next fifty years to get a share."

"And you weren't going to let that happen."

"If anyone was going to get the Tsar's billions, it should be the people who needed it. There are charities all over the world that need help. Children have always touched me. Special children, starving children, children who have been abused. Jesus said let the little chil¬dren come unto me. I thought that my friend Nartova would have liked that I might be able to help them. He had guarded the hammer for all those years to keep the treasure from being used by those who wanted only to corrupt. He told me once that the only way to win the treasure was to leave it alone. I had to protect the hammer, protect the children. But now I had the amulets, and I could reach out and give back to the world. Isn't it better that I take the hammer into my keep¬ing than let it go to someone who would not care for it as I would?"

Irana shook her head in amazement. For a man of his years and education, his view in this matter was incredibly simplistic. He obvi¬ously looked upon the treasure as belonging to Sergai Nartova rather than the Tsar or any other entity. His friend had cared for it, guarded it, and therefore had more right to it than anyone else. "I don't believe that the government would agree with you."

"Exactly. That's what I've been telling you." His eyes were narrowed shrewdly on her face. "But you agree with me, don't you? I thought you would."

"I agree that those in need would better profit than bureaucrats, but that doesn't mean you have the right to take what doesn't belong to you." She smiled. "Good Samaritans should dole out their own alms, Bishop Dimitri. Not borrow from others."

"I appreciate the fact that you didn't say steal." He chuckled. "But I admit that I committed that sin. It's a sin I could live with if I could see thousands of hungry children fed because of my transgression." His smile faded. "But I cannot live with the horror that has come of all this. When Joslyn told me of what Staunton has done, it made me-I was stunned. I never thought it would happen. But I still must accept the blame for it."

"Joslyn paid out the money."

"Are you trying to give me an excuse? Peter is a good man. I was the one who drew him into my scheme." He shook his head and cor¬rected, "No, into my dream. Such a good man… Even now he's rush¬ing here to try to protect me."

"And what do you want to do now?"

He leaned back on the bench. "I want to sit here in the sun. Later I will pray and let God decide what is best." He smiled. "I believe he is already at work. After all, he sent me a messenger."

She shook her head.

"I've made you uncomfortable," he said. "Don't be. Messengers sometimes don't recognize their mission." He searched her face. "But I think you were sensitive to… something. But I sense pain within you. Tell me, have I hurt you, child?"

"No, you haven't hurt me, Bishop Dimitri."

"Then I pray your pain will leave you." He closed his eyes. "We won't talk about it anymore. But I want you to know you've brought me comfort."

"I don't know why. I can't keep what you've done a secret."

"You'll do what you have to do. But will you stay with me for a lit¬tle while? It's not every day a messenger comes to visit. There's a blessed… peace about you."

She felt a sudden rush of sympathy. He had been wrong, but his motives had been right. He had wanted to save children and been will¬ing to sacrifice himself to do it. How many other people could say as much? "I'll stay with you." She leaned back. "As long as you like, Bishop Dimitri."

"EVERYTHING OKAY?" GARRETT asked, when Dardon answered the phone.

"As far as I know," Dardon said. "They've been inside the residency for the last twenty minutes." He added, "I tried to go in with them, but Irana wouldn't let me. I didn't think she'd let Emily go ei¬ther for a few minutes."