Emily’s interest is sparked now. “So? What did you do?”
“Lord Buttermere told me to try to get close to Aristarkhov, or Horobets, or both. I had no luck at all with Aristarkhov. But I found that Horobets frequented a bath-house in St Petersburg. It was not, however, one that I knew. The Kukolka Bath and Massage House was actually a brothel, and Horobets was its most regular customer.
I went to the place, avoiding conversation with the women and generally feeling ill at ease. After a couple of visits, I saw Horobets, and managed to fall into conversation with him. That was the start of it. During last summer, all through the time that the Bolsheviks were increasing their power, I saw Horobets regularly, firstly at the bath house, then in bars, and then at his home. I managed to convince him that I held Bolshevik beliefs, and that he could rely on me to help him.
Then, Horobets started to receive instructions from unnamed people. Following those instructions, I accompanied him on visits to the homes of a variety of people. Most of them were moderates and liberal democrats, people such as Nikolay Chkheidze.
The ‘visits’ were all most unpleasant. Horobets would make a speech about loyalty, and say that total support had to be given to Lenin. Anyone who didn’t, he said, would be putting their lives and their families at risk.”
Emily snorts. “A protection racket. Except about politics instead of money.”
Rufus nods in agreement. “Then, a few days ago, Horobets and I were sent here. He told me nothing about our mission until we got off the train at Perm. That was where he told me that his task was to ‘disappear’ two American women who posed a threat to senior members of the Bolshevik Party – and I was to assist him. He told me I had to act as a guard outside a cave, while he ambushed the women inside. He planned to hide the bodies underground so that they would never be found. It would look as if the women had got lost in the cave; an unfortunate accident. That would avoid any awkward questions from the American consulate.
Of course, I could never kill anyone. But to preserve my cover, I had to go through the motions of working with Horobets. So that’s how I ended up on that sled, pretending to shoot at you.”
“So you couldn’t kill us, but you were quite happy to stand out in the snow while Horobets came into the cave to do his dirty work.” Emily spits the words out.
“Please. I’m not proud of a single thing I’ve done. I never wanted any of this…” He slumps over his cocoa, his eyes closed, his brows corrugated with guilt.
20
The House of Special Purpose
Birds are singing in the trees outside the sitting room window. It’s a perfect summer’s day. Over seven months have passed since our visit to the ice caves: it’s July 1918.
The door opens, and Professor Axelson enters.
“Professor! You got here at last! Are you joining us here at Yermak?”
“I’m afraid, Miss Agnes, that my stay in this delightful place will be of very short duration. I am to leave again in an hour or so.”
“What is going on?”
“I have no idea. After I returned from the hospital in Helsinki, I was forced to spend the winter and spring in Moscow. I was accommodated for free, at a luxury hotel. But it was no consolation for my frustration and boredom. Finally, a few days ago, I received a letter – would you believe it, from Lenin himself! I have the letter here.”
He flashes a piece of paper with a red crest on it. “The letter requests that I carry out an important piece of work – but it does not explain what that work is. It also said that two Red Guards would meet me at my hotel in Moscow. They would accompany me on the train to Perm. So now, I am here. But the guards have said that this is a brief stop, then we will travel on to a new destination. I have no idea where, or why.”
Two men follow him into the room. Their Red Guard uniforms are less makeshift that those I remember from St Petersburg: properly sewn red collars and cuffs have replaced the armbands and sashes. They look around the room. All the usual residents are here, including Rufus. One of the guards speaks to all of us.
“We are sorry, but we have to break up this pleasant party. Yermak is too small for all the residents. Some of you have new accommodation, in Yekaterinburg.”
We’ve all been here so long that the news of change is greeted with startled expressions around the room. The soldier begins to read out names.
“Two residents must accompany us to Yekaterinburg. Their names are Agnes Frocester and Rufus du Pavey. They will travel with this gentleman, Professor Felix Axelson.”
I look at the soldier. “What about Emily Neale? She and I came here together.”
“I have news, too, for Miss Neale. But my message for her is private. Where is she?”
“I’m here! The only other woman in the room, if you hadn’t noticed.”
The guard steps over to Emily, and quietly asks her to leave the room with him. After five minutes, he reappears without her, and tells Rufus, the professor and me to get ready to leave. I say goodbye to the other residents, then I go up to the room I share with Emily, and pack my suitcase. But she’s not there.
Half an hour later, the professor, Rufus and I get into a motor car, but I’ve seen nothing of Emily. I’m going away without even saying goodbye.
Rather than going to the railway station at Kungur, the car drove us all the way to Perm, arriving at dusk. Just like months before, we boarded the Trans-Siberian Express, and the guards showed us into a sleeper carriage. Then, unexpectedly, they took their leave of us, and got off the train; moments later, we were sliding out of the station. I can hardly believe that the Red Guards are allowing the three of us to travel unaccompanied – but it’s true. I slept surprisingly well, and when we awoke, a waiter came to tell us that a table was laid for us in the dining car.
As we eat breakfast, the train winds along on its journey through a rocky valley among high, forested hills. The professor looks out at the view over the rim of his teacup.
“This is the Ural watershed. We are now leaving the continent of Europe, and entering Asia.”
“Bloody Russia. It all looks the damned same to me.” I’m sad to see that, after months of sobriety at Yermak, Rufus’ eyes are bloodshot, and his breath smells of vodka.
The professor answers him. “This continental divide is odd, I agree. For myself, I felt I was leaving Europe when I departed St Petersburg. And our destination, Yekaterinburg, is closer to China than to any place we would think of as European.”
Rufus’s face changes: an idea has occurred to him.
“We have no guards with us. Could we bribe the railway staff to let us stay on the train after Yekaterinburg? This train goes all the way to the Sea of Japan, doesn’t it? We could escape from Russia.”
Axelson smiles at the naivety of Rufus’s idea.
“I would wager a million rubles, Mr du Pavey, that armed Red Guards will board this train at Yekaterinburg and make sure that the three of us get off.”
“But we are unguarded now! What’s to stop us pulling the emergency cord, and when the train halts, simply escaping?”
This time, the professor guffaws loudly. “The Bolsheviks know there is no need to guard us! Have you looked out of the windows at this landscape? If we got off this train, where would we escape to?”