On the first day, Rufus and I sat where I’m sitting now, on chairs at a small table in the garden. I spent the day reading, and now and then trying to chat to him, but he was unusually silent. Today, Rufus has taken to his bed: at midday, I called through the door of his room, and suggested he have lunch with me, but he didn’t reply. So I knocked on his door and, hearing no answer, I turned the handle and looked in on him. He was snoring, under a blanket, and the room stank of alcohol.
It’s now late afternoon, and I’m sitting in the hotel garden, listening to the birds and awaiting the professor’s return. I can see the guard who is always there, standing at the little gate that leads onto the street.
Axelson has been away from the hotel throughout daylight hours on both days. Despite the “earliest possible opportunity” mentioned in the telegram, he told us last night that he was immersed in long discussions with Yurovsky – who in his turn has had long discussions with the Tsarina.
I look up, and the professor appears at the garden gate. He seems tired; his eyes are heavy and lined with anxiety. He comes over to me and sits in the other chair.
“This absurd assignment – I am so very uneasy about it…”
He glances around. No-one appears to be in earshot.
“I think I have established, Miss Agnes, what is behind the Bolsheviks’ proposal that I hypnotize the Tsarina.”
He pauses, and frowns again, before resuming. “The Ipatiev House, although large, is not of course on anything like the scale of accommodation that the imperial family is accustomed to. Even compared to their previous exile home in Tobolsk, it is small and lacking in luxury. The Tsarina has complained repeatedly about the facilities at the new house. She seems to forget that she and her family are entirely at the mercy of their captors.”
“I guess she is used to having the best of everything. Old habits die hard.”
“Whatever is in the Tsarina’s mind, the Bolsheviks have spotted it, and hope to use it as an opportunity to trap her. They have proposed a hypnotic session with her, in exchange for improvements in living conditions at the house.”
“How is that a trap?”
“Ideally, the Bolsheviks would like to put the Tsarina and her husband on trial, for crimes against the Russian people. A ‘show trial’, that would prove them guilty of citizens’ blood.”
“Why both of them? Wasn’t it Nicholas’s orders to shoot at the crowd?”
“Nicholas was away with the Army at the front line when the rioting occurred, although he was in touch with news from St Petersburg. The Tsarina, on the other hand, was effectively acting as a regent. Because she is German by birth, people like to blame her for all Russia’s troubles.
But unfortunately for the Bolsheviks, there is a lack of evidence about both the Tsar and Tsarina. Many decisions, such as exactly how much force to use in suppressing the demonstrations, were delegated to subordinates. Even the Tsarina’s direct orders were passed through long chains of command. For example, consider the machine guns that you and I saw above the Nevsky Prospect. It seems that they were placed there by order of military commanders, and the Tsar and Tsarina knew nothing about them. In fact, my own suspicion is that it was General Aristarkhov who decided to deploy the machine guns.”
“So there’s no evidence to prove that either the Tsar or Tsarina ordered the shooting of protesters?”
“That’s right. So the Bolsheviks would struggle to put them on trial. But, Yurovsky confided to me that Lenin and some of the other leading Bolsheviks put great faith in hypnosis. And they have heard of my successes with the shell-shock patients at St Petersburg and Helsinki – even though, of course, that is a completely different technique.
Lenin’s belief in my Hypnotic-Forensic Method has led the Bolsheviks to the hare-brained idea of me obtaining, through hypnosis, some kind of ‘confession’ to the St Petersburg shootings, from either the Tsar or his wife.”
“Professor, you can’t do that!”
“I understand what you are saying, Miss Agnes. But the three of us have all been brought to Yekaterinburg so that I can conduct this hypnotic session. If I do as the Bolsheviks wish, then you, I and Mr du Pavey may finally be allowed to leave Russia. But equally, I know in my heart that if I refuse, it will mean captivity for us all – or worse. So, I am going to undertake a Hypnotic-Forensic session, if the Tsarina agrees.”
“It’s morally wrong, Professor. You’ll be complicit in trying to trap her.”
“No. I’m only willing to conduct the hypnosis because I don’t think she will confess as they hope she will. She won’t admit to authorizing any violence against the crowds, because she didn’t authorize it. I think she simply left all the details of how to deal with the February Revolution protests to her advisers. Commanders like Aristarkhov took all the key decisions. I feel sure that’s what she’ll tell me, under hypnosis.”
“If you think so, Professor. But it’s a risky game.”
“I know, Miss Agnes. I’m aware of the pitfalls. But please believe me when I tell you this: we have no other choice.”
21
The little prince
It’s our second visit to the Ipatiev House. For some reason, Rufus is not allowed to accompany the professor, but I am. My suspicion is that our hotel staff have informed Yurovsky of Rufus’s drunken habits.
After we’ve passed through the palisade and the courtyard, Yurovsky meets us and leads us into the interior of the house. We enter a dark, stuffy room where guards are billeted. Although it’s midday, several lie on their bunks, looking bored: they stare blankly at us, without seeming to care who we are. Then we reach the foot of a narrow staircase.
“The former imperial family live on the upper storey. I have spoken to Mrs Romanov about the hypnotic session. She has agreed to the hypnosis – on condition that neither I nor any of my men are present.”
Axelson looks at the stairs. “So we go up there without you?”
“Exactly. Call out, once your session is finished. One of the guards will hear you and will bring me to the foot of these stairs to meet you. And, as we agreed, you will keep full notes, won’t you?”
“Miss Agnes will act as my note-taker. I have complete trust in her abilities.” The professor turns to me, gesturing me to climb the stairs. “You go first, Miss Agnes.”
I notice each creak of the uncarpeted wooden stairs. Then I reach the top, and a pretty blonde girl smiles at me.
“Hello. I’m Anastasia.”
“Your Highness…”
“Don’t bother with any of that nonsense! My sisters call me Shvibzik – the imp. Because I’m cheeky.”
The professor smiles, like a father. “You seem in good spirits. This accommodation – it is not what you are used to.”
“When we were little, we slept on hard beds. Cold baths every morning! Mother and Father had the idea it would help us to grow up into better people. So we don’t need luxury. This house is fine, although I wish they hadn’t painted over the windows.”
She glances around in the gloomy light. “They did that the other day, because I was looking out of the windows. That man Yurovsky said I was looking out for people who are coming to rescue us. But I don’t want to be rescued, and be a Grand Duchess again. I’d rather go to America. I could be in the movies!”