“Humor us,” Sam said as they weaved their way through the growing crowd of shoppers. He noticed the couple from the museum shop a few booths away to admire some of the amber trinkets.
“Naturally, everyone assumes there were a few Fabergé eggs gifted to her by her husband, Alexander. After all, it would explain why a handful have never been found or accounted for. She would also have kept any jewelry he’d given her over the years. There are numerous photographs of her wearing tiaras and necklaces that have never been seen since.” Andrei nodded at someone he knew, as they walked, then glanced over at Sam and Remi, saying, “I’m sure that if you’re aware of any of the history surrounding the murders of the Romanovs, you know they’d amassed a fortune of loose stones that were meant to tide them over once they escaped the country. The royal family had sewn them into the lining of their clothes. It would have been no different for the Dowager Empress when she fled to the Crimea. In my opinion, if this ransom truly exists, it would be worth hundreds of millions of dollars.”
“Do you believe the stories?” Remi asked. “That the ransom really exists?”
“I do,” he said, pausing beside the booth where he’d greeted one of the vendors. Strings of amber beads hanging from hooks glistened in the sunlight. “I believe the Bolsheviks had it, and then the Nazis took it when they invaded Russia.”
“Took it from where?” she asked, running her fingers along one of the long strands.
“Originally? Catherine Palace, St. Petersburg. Same time they took the Amber Room.” He gave a slight shrug. “Doesn’t matter. No one’s ever seen it or the Amber Room since. So, whether it really exists or not is anyone’s guess. My opinion counts little.”
Sam eyed the couple just a few booths away. The woman picked up a small amber frame, turning it about in her hands. The man stood with his back to them. Their actions seemed normal, tourists doing the tourist thing, but something about them didn’t seem right. Keeping his eye on the couple, he asked Andrei, “What was it you were saying about others making inquiries into this?”
23
Sometime last year,” Andrei said as they continued on toward the museum, “I was approached by two men who asked if I knew anything about the Romanov Ransom having been taken to Königsberg castle along with the Amber Room. I told them the same as you.”
“Earlier, you said you didn’t trust them. Why is that?”
“These people wanted exclusive access to my notes. They offered to pay because they didn’t want what I’d found out in the public realm. Thousands more than I’d ever make publishing my book. I refused.”
“It’s your passion,” Remi said. “There is no price.”
“Exactly,” he said, sounding surprised. He glanced over at Sergei. “You were right. They do understand.”
“I told you,” Sergei said.
“What happened next?” Sam asked.
“When I turned them down, one of the men threatened that if I did publish the book, they’d come after me. The publisher I had lined up suddenly went out of business. Another small academic press I had submitted it to was sold, the new owners no longer interested.”
As they walked past, Sam watched the couple from the corner of his eye. Neither looked their direction.
“At the time,” Andrei continued, “I assumed it was just my bad luck. But when I decided to self-publish it, the shop belonging to the printers I hired burned to the ground. That’s when I realized that whoever they are, they were intent on keeping my work out of the public domain.”
“These people,” Sam said. “Anything you can tell us about them?”
“Beyond that they’re dangerous?” He shrugged. “I was never able to prove anything. The more I talked about it to the authorities, the more I looked like a crazed man spouting a conspiracy theory. Even I was beginning to disbelieve what was happening.”
Remi said. “Weren’t you worried for your safety?”
“At first, no. But after the printing press disaster, I realized that others around me might be hurt. That’s when my wife suggested that I put all of my work on the internet instead. She felt that once it was out where everyone could see it, they’d lose their leverage.” Andrei gave a deep sigh. “At the moment, it’s still an obscure academic paper that takes a bit of searching, but, as my wife pointed out, with social media these days, should anything happen to me, people would be bound to do a search of my name. If they did, that paper would shoot to the top of the search results. So much for keeping the information private.” He gave a cynical smile. “The very next time they contacted me, I let them know.”
“Did it work?” Remi asked.
“They’ve left me alone ever since. Of course, it also gave them access to everything I’d gathered, but what could I do? One day I may try again to get it properly published, but, for now, there it sits on the internet for anyone who cares to look for it. So, please. Help yourself. And if I were you, I’d take a good look at the bibliography — something I didn’t pass on to those charlatans. Some of my most amazing finds were from a diary kept by the groundskeeper of Königsberg castle.”
Remi took out her phone and opened a text to Selma as they talked. “Notes,” she said. “So I don’t forget.”
When they neared the front of the museum, Andrei stopped, saying, “Duty calls. Even for us volunteers.”
They thanked him for his time, and Sergei walked him back to the museum entrance.
Sam waited until they were out of earshot before asking Remi, “You happen to notice we were being followed?”
“The man and woman who nearly ran us over inside the museum?”
“The same.”
She put her hands on her hips, her expression one of mock seriousness. “An appalling lack of etiquette, that they’d follow us around without a proper introduction.”
“Agreed. Time we introduced ourselves.”
24
The woman, Remi noticed as she weaved her way through the tourists and shoppers admiring the various amber knickknacks, had questionable taste. She tried on a hideous necklace interspersed with plastic gold beads, then a pair of dangling earrings. As she held them to her ears, she checked herself in a handheld amber mirror, undoubtedly searching for Sam and Remi in the reflection.
Sam caught up with Sergei to let him know that they’d meet him at the car. Remi swept past the couple, never giving any indication that she noticed them at all, keeping close to the crowd for safety. She stopped to admire an amber elephant figurine about two inches high. “How much?” she asked the vendor.
“For you, only twenty-five hundred rubles. Genuine Baltic amber. The finest anywhere.”
Whether it was the finest was debatable. It was, however, charming, and she turned it over in her hands, admiring the way the light caught in the inclusions. “Two thousand,” she offered as Sam joined her.
“Twenty-two.” He gave a firm nod.
A little over thirty dollars. Very reasonable. “Twenty-two it is. Sam?”
He took out his wallet and paid the man, who wrapped the elephant in tissue and put it in a small cloth bag, handing it to Remi.
“Spasibo,” she said.
He gave a broad smile in return. “You’re very welcome.”
Remi tucked the bag into her purse as Sam led her back toward the park. “And where are our new friends?” she asked.
“Right behind us.”
She again linked her arm through Sam’s, eyeing the crowd, breathing in the scent of freshly mown grass, as they walked. Other than the people following them, everything seemed normal. Children ran past, laughing as parents called after them to wait. Several teenage girls giggled at a nearby booth as they tried on amber necklaces. Up ahead, armed police officers strolled near the park, keeping a watchful eye on everything around them. That, she realized, was one of the things Sam would be watching for. Less likely for anything serious to happen in an area like this — especially if the pair following them was armed. “Do we have a plan?”