Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Four
F or a timeless moment the world stopped. No one moved or spoke. Anna glanced at Nicholas. He was frowning and his face had a hard steeliness about it. She wondered what he was going to do as he left her flanked by Anastasia and Rubin and loped down the steps until he was on the same level as Boris Renin.
‘Withdraw your insult, Major Renin, or I shall demand satisfaction.’
‘You’re aware that duels are outlawed. I’m a loyal servant of the tsar and obey his laws.’
‘I don’t care whose servant you are,’ Nicholas retorted in a biting drawl. ‘You will apologise or we shall engage.’
He was a head taller than Boris Renin and held a glove in one hand. Anna felt her heart skittering in her chest. Nicholas regarded duelling as senseless – a medieval relic of barbarity that solved nothing – but, if he slapped Renin now, there could be no other outcome. The side of Renin’s face twitched as Nicholas raised his hand. Then Michael Pavel shouldered his way between the two men, pushing them apart. Fellow officers followed and Anna saw Michael talking to Renin, speaking in his ear. Nicholas stood with his arms folded as people moved closer, trying to hear what was being said, until Renin shook off Michael’s restraining hand and pulled himself up to his full height.
‘I’ve nothing against you, Nicholas Petrovich. I refuse your challenge. If I have been misinformed, then I apologise.’
He clicked his heels with a bow and held out his hand to Nicholas who did not move.
‘You will apologise to Miss Brianski for your malicious slander.’
Boris Renin hesitated, looking uncertainly first at Michael and then up at Anna. She glared at him, the hatred on her eyes so fierce he almost seemed to quail. Then his mouth twisted in a distorted smile. ‘I beg your forgiveness, ma’am. It seems that I spoke out of turn.’
His tone was laced with sarcasm. He turned on his heel and Anna’s breath came back with a shudder. Michael had persuaded Renin to back down. Had he lied in order to protect her? He’d been so angry this morning, she was bewildered by his turnabout. But a duel had been prevented. To her dazed mind, the crowd seemed to ebb away, voices fading as they went out into the night. Anastasia peered at her anxiously and Rubin gave them both an arm as they made their way down to Nicholas.
He took hold of her hand and Anna whispered,’ ‘Please stay with me.’
‘I’m sorry but I must speak to Captain Pavel. Anastasia and Rubin will escort you home. The blackguard’s apologised – that’s all that matters. I’ll call on you first thing in the morning.’
He could talk to Michael tomorrow, for heaven’s sake! Anna stared at his face, waiting for him to yield, but his expression was rigid. Was this his way of telling her she was no longer his responsibility? If so, why not come out and say it? He promised he wouldn’t abandon me, she thought bitterly. Now he thinks he’s done his duty by challenging Renin and can hand me over to his friends. A final spark of outrage kindled inside her and she threw off his arm. Picking up the front of her dress she walked out of the theatre alone and settled herself in the dark interior of the carriage beside Anastasia.
Rubin Marinsky sat opposite with his back to the driver and Anna dug her fingers into the leather upholstery. Renin might have apologised, but the incident couldn’t be hushed up. He had insulted her in public and all of St. Petersburg would hear of it by the morning. What must Rubin and Anastasia be thinking? She couldn’t begin to explain. Nicholas should be here to tell them, she thought, dashing away a tear with her knuckle.
‘Boris Renin’s a toad,’ Rubin announced emphatically. ‘I’m almost sorry he retracted. I’d liked to have seen him shot.’
‘Hush, darling! No one takes any notice of him. He’s a second-rate troublemaker, not worth the cost of a bullet.’
The horses’ shoes clip-clopped on the cobbles and the occupants of the carriage fell silent. It was a clear, bright night with a full moon and Anna stared sightlessly out of the window. They had crossed the river and were heading along the quays when the carriage stopped suddenly, the horses pulled up so violently that Rubin was thrown to the floor. The next moment the door was flung open and a man in a hood and mask pointed a gun at Anastasia’s head. Another heavyweight stood behind him, also masked and armed.
‘Keep still with your hands behind your back,’ he ordered, using his boot to nudge Rubin onto his stomach. ‘Don’t try anything or you’re dead. Which one of you is Miss Brianski?’
‘I am,’ Anastasia answered at once, her expression as cool as her voice. ‘What’s your business with me?’
‘Your presence is requested by order of the Commandant of Third Division.’
For an instant Anna was too stunned to react. Then Rubin twisted his head and looked desperately at his wife. ‘Anastasia! Don’t be so foolish…’
‘ I am Miss Brianski, the person you want. This has nothing to do with them!’ Anna raised her voice as she pushed past Anastasia. She glimpsed the ivory handle of a pistol in her friend’s hand and hissed under her breath, ‘Put it away.’
The gun disappeared into folds of Anastasia’s cape and rough hands grasped hold of Anna, hauling her out. A rug was thrown over her head and she heard the command to the coachman to drive on. The carriage door slammed, and the wheels creaked as it moved off. Instinctively, she went limp as the men dragged her between them and she was bundled into another vehicle. She heard them talking among themselves and, when they stopped, she was lifted out, carried down a flight of steps and manhandled onto a chair.
The foul-smelling rug was removed and her eyes watered in the light. They were in a small cellar-like room with oil lamps burning in brackets on the walls. They must be close to the river for she could hear fast-running water. Apart from a table and two chairs, there was no other furniture.
What was it Michael said about the new Third Military Division? If only she had paid more attention this morning! Anna tried to gather her wits as she used her glove to wipe the grime off her face and mouth.
‘You’re to be interviewed by the boss.’ The broad-shouldered man leered at her, whistling through missing front teeth. ‘Been a naughty girl, have you?’
There was a sound of nailed boots on stone as two soldiers entered the room and he was dismissed. The older man wore a general’s uniform and the younger, the red and green jacket of the Guards.
‘I apologise for the unorthodox methods of your apprehension.’ The general sat down opposite Anna. He spoke with a German accent, his voice slightly slurred as though he had been drinking, and Anna stared at him in shocked recognition.
‘Rest assured your friends are unharmed, the former governor of Irkutsk went on. ‘I refrained from calling at your home so as not to alarm your parents. I’ve been transferred to the Third Military Division.’
Anna’s eyes moved over him, taking in the new uniform and gold epaulettes. General Zeidler’s moustache was waxed, his hair oiled and his pale blue eyes as hard as she remembered. He had tidied himself up, but there were broken blood vessels on his nose and his cheeks were sallow and flaccid. She felt a pricking of fear and concentrated on the details of his appearance to keep hold on reality.
‘I’m in charge of families related to the traitors,’ the general continued. ‘It’s been brought to my attention that you remain close to the criminals and have recently been acting on their behalf.’
The young captain handed over a booklet, which Zeidler placed on the table in front of Anna. It was larger than she’d expected – foolscap size with the portrait of Maria on the front under the title VISIONS FROM HELL . The general licked his thumb to turn the pages and Anna saw each one was edged with a border of black. Pushkin had done well but she dared not think of him in case her face gave her away. An icy stillness descended over her manner, disguising the chaos inside.
‘You’re an artist, Miss Brianski, are you not?’ The general leant forwards and she smelled brandy on his breath. ‘I believe you’re responsible for this pernicious work?’
Zeidler looked straight at her and Anna looked straight back. ‘There are a great many artists in St. Petersburg. Do you suspect them all?’
‘It can’t be a coincidence such propaganda should appear within weeks of your return from Siberia.’
He paused, but Anna did not answer. Putting her elbows on the table, she rested her chin on her hands, her attitude conveying an impression of impatient irritation.
‘Did you create these despicable images?’ Zeidler voice was louder as he lifted the book and held it close to her.
‘We’re not in Irkutsk now, sir,’ she answered coldly. ‘I’m a free citizen of St. Petersburg and demand to be released immediately.’
‘Who are your accomplices?’ Zeidler ignored her statement. ‘Someone must have helped you get them printed and circulated…’
Zeidler wanted a confession, but he had no proof and Anna met his gaze unwaveringly. ‘I believe you’ve been misled, sir. I’ve never seen these drawings before.’
‘You have a history of lying. I recall you travelled to Siberia under false papers.’
He paused, expecting an answer, but Anna shot him a look of disdain and was silent. He softened his voice as he altered tactics. ‘It’s late, Miss Brianski. You must be tired. The sooner you give me the names of your collaborators, the sooner you’ll be allowed to go home.’
‘As you know, enforced interrogation without evidence is against the law. I have influential friends in this city, sir. It would be a pity to lose your new position so soon.’
Anna’s words left a void and there was silence, the change in the atmosphere like a drop in temperature. The captain stood to attention and Zeidler’s eyes flickered briefly. She felt his body craning in tension, the younger man also, and heard the crackle of his breath. The general seemed to hesitate. Then he picked up the book and stood.
‘We will make further enquiries and speak to you again. Captain Fedorov will escort you home where you will remain until you hear from us. Good evening, Miss Brianski.’