Steve Berry - The Romanov Prophecy

"Inspector Orleg has been under investigation for some time. He is connected to some sort of organization that is intent on influencing the outcome of the Tsarist Commission. Artemy Bely, the young lawyer who was gunned down, was killed because he was asking questions about Orleg and this association. You, unfortunately, happened to be present. The individuals who murdered Bely thought perhaps he confided in you, which explains their interest in you. I am aware of the chases in Moscow and Red Square-"

"And also on a train from St. Petersburg."

"I was unaware of that."

"What kind of organization is attempting to influence the commission?"

"That, we were hoping you might know. My government is only aware that individuals are working together and large sums of money have changed hands. Orleg is connected to them. Their purpose seems an attempt to assure that Stefan Baklanov is selected tsar."

The man's words were making sense, but he wanted to know, "Are any American businessmen suspected of being involved? My firm represents a large number of them."

"We believe so. In fact, that appears to be the cash source. We were hoping you could help us there, too."

"Have you talked with my boss, Taylor Hayes?"

Vitenko shook his head. "My government has tried to confine its inquiries to keep their knowledge secret. Arrests are about to be made, but I have been asked to question you and see if you could add more. In addition, a representative from Moscow would like to speak with you, if possible."

Lord was now extremely concerned. He didn't like the idea that anyone from Moscow knew where he was.

His apprehension must have seeped through his expression. Vitenko said, "There is nothing to fear, Mr. Lord. Your conversation will be by phone. I assure you, I represent a government that is interested in everything that has happened over the past few days. We need your assistance. The commission will take a final vote in two days' time. If there has been a corruption of the process, we must know."

He said nothing.

"We cannot begin a new Russia with vestiges of the old. If commission members are being bribed, perhaps Stefan Baklanov himself has been compromised. That cannot be allowed."

He shot a quick glance at Akilina, who signaled her concern with a lingering gaze. As long as the envoy was talking, he wanted to know some things. "Why does your government continue to be concerned with tsarist wealth? It seems ridiculous. So much time has passed."

Vitenko settled back in his chair. "Nicholas II hid millions in imperial gold prior to 1917. The Soviets thought it their duty to find every last bit of that wealth. San Francisco became the hub of all Allied support for the White Army. Much tsarist gold was deposited here for the London and New York banks, which were financing rifle and ammunition purchases. Russian emigres followed that gold into San Francisco. Many were merely refugees, but some came for a purpose." The envoy sat straight in his chair, a ramrod back matching his stuffy personality. "The Russian consul general here at the time openly declared himself anti-Bolshevik and was actively involved with American intervention in the Russian civil war. That man personally profited from the many gold-for-arms deals that flowed through local banks. The Soviets became convinced large amounts of what they regarded as their gold was still here. Then there is the matter of Colonel Nicholas F. Romanov."

The pitch and tone of the man's voice signaled something important. Vitenko reached into his jacket pocket and removed a copy of a news article from the San Francisco Examiner dated October 16, 1919. The story told of the arrival of a Russian colonel with the same last name as the deposed imperial family. He was supposedly on his way to Washington to secure American aid for White Army efforts.

"His arrival caused quite a stir. The consulate here monitored his activities. We still have the files, in fact. Whether this man was a Romanov or not, no one knows. Most likely, he was not, the name simply a way to arouse interest. He managed to shed the surveillance placed on him, and we really have no idea what he did while here or where he disappeared to. We do know that several accounts were open at the time, one at the Commerce and Merchants Bank, along with four safe-deposit boxes, one of which was number seven sixteen, which you accessed yesterday."

He began to realize this man's interest. A few too many coincidences for events to be random.

"Care to tell me what was in the box, Mr. Lord?"

He did not trust the envoy enough to part with that information. "Not right now."

"Perhaps you could tell the representative from Moscow?"

He wasn't sure about that, either, so he said nothing. Vitenko again seemed to sense his hesitancy. "Mr. Lord, I have been straightforward with you. There is no reason to doubt my intentions. Surely you can see my government's interest in all that has happened."

"Surely you can see why I'm being cautious. I've been running for my life the past few days. And by the way, you never did say how you located us."

"You listed this hotel on the sign-in sheet at the bank."

Good answer, he thought.

Vitenko reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. "I understand your reluctance, Mr. Lord. Here is how to contact me. Any taxi driver can deliver you to the Russian consulate. The representative from Moscow will call at two thirty this afternoon, our time. If you want to talk with him, please be at my office. If not, you will not be hearing from us again."

He accepted the card and stared hard at the envoy's face, unsure what he was going to do.

Akilina watched Lord as he paced the hotel room. They'd spent the morning in the public library reading old newspapers, finding a couple of articles on Colonel Nicholas F. Romanov's visit to San Francisco in the fall of 1919. There wasn't much, more gossip and social news than anything else, and she could tell that Lord was becoming frustrated. They'd also verified that the Lilies of the Valley Egg was still in a private collection, which did little to explain how they possessed a duplicate, exact in every way save for the photos.

After a light lunch in one of the street cafes, they'd returned to the room. Lord had yet to mention Filip Vitenko and his offer to appear at the Russian consulate later. She'd carefully watched the envoy while he and Lord talked, trying to gauge for herself his sincerity, but it was hard to ascertain.

She glanced over at Lord. He was a handsome man. The fact that he was "of color," as she'd been taught to think, meant nothing to her. He seemed a genuine and sincere individual thrust into something extraordinary. They'd so far spent five nights together and never once had he even intimated anything improper. That was unusual for her, since the men in the circus, and the few she associated with outside work, seemed fixated on sex.

"Akilina."

She looked at Lord.

"Where were you?" he asked.

She didn't want to tell him what she was really pondering, so she said, "Filip Vitenko seemed sincere."

"He did. But that doesn't necessarily mean anything."

Lord sat on the edge of the bed. He was holding the Faberge egg. "We must be missing something. A part of the secret has been lost. Clearly, we're at a dead end."

She knew what he really meant. "You are going to the consulate?"

He stared at her. "I don't think I have a choice. If somebody is trying to manipulate the commission, I have to help where I can."

"But there's nothing you know."

"I'm curious to see what I can learn from the Moscow representative. The information might be helpful to the man I work for. Don't forget, my original purpose was to ensure Stefan Baklanov's selection. I have to do my job."

"We'll go together, then."