Dazzle The Complete Unabridged Trilogy (59 page)

'Never mind the goddamned birds!
'
Kokovtsov screamed.
'Run the hell over them
!
'

The chauffeur hesitated, and Vaslav stared at Senda stu
pidly all the while, as though through an invisible haze. His
lips were turned down in a frown as if he should know her, but
couldn't remember her name. The Princess appeared to stare
at the floor, never raising her head or moving her eyes.

'Vaslav, it's
me! Senda!!'

She had reached the car. Her hands clutched the glossy door
and she leaned across it, ignoring the Count's baleful face as
she searched Vaslav's eyes. They were curiously shiny and
unfocused. Her face whitened, and she felt she was going
to be sick. Vaslav continued to stare at her . . .
through
her
really . . . as if he was catatonic.
What was wrong with him?

Of course. The scarf! Her white hair! How
could
she expect
him to recognize her in this disguise?

With a swift tug of her hand she tore the scarf off her head and in a desperate frenzy began slapping the white powder
from her hair.

Still Vaslav Danilov regarded her with that curious far-away
look, and the Princess continued to stare at the floor as if in a
trance.

'Vaslav!' Senda sobbed. 'For God's sake,
why
don't you
recognize me? It's
me
!
Senda!'

'Drive!'
Count Kokovtsov screeched at the driver again.
'Drive, I tell you!'

This time the chauffeur jumped into action. The rear tyres
dug tenaciously into the drive, kicking up gravel and spraying
it backward. The car surged forward with a sudden burst of
speed. Unprepared for its abrupt departure, Senda was still
clinging to the door, her feet dragging a deep furrow through
the gravel. Then she uttered a cry of dismay as her grip loos
ened. The breath was knocked out of her as she hit the ground
and rolled over twice.

Thump-thump-thump
.

She drew in her breath sharply and shut her eyes at the terrible sounds: the car had ploughed through the peacocks.
When she opened her eyes again, a cloud of white feathers
billowed up into the blast of exhaust before snowing slowly groundward. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the car
hurtling around the wide curve, toward the house. The chauf
feur had taken the corner so fast that for a moment it appeared
as if the phaeton was balanced on its left tyres alone. Then the
car was out of sight, screened by the thick foliage of the trees.

Vaslav! Her heart was a triphammer, her blood surging.
This was her one opportunity to speak with him—perhaps the
only one she might ever have! She had to take advantage of
it, to find out what was wrong with him.

Why didn't he recognize her? Or did he?

She struggled to her feet and raced toward the château, cutting across the lawn. She glanced at the blood-splattered
carcasses of three prize peacocks, and quickly averted her
gaze. It had been a mistake to look, and she had to fight to keep from retching. Nothing could drown out the agony of
one mortally wounded fowl's ear-piercing death shrieks.

'Butcher!' she hissed aloud, angrily cursing Count
Kokovtsov. Then she ducked through the trees and ran
straight into the waiting arms of two guards.

She fought them like a captured banshee, her arms flailing.
'Let me . . . GO!' she. screamed.
'Vaslav! Vaslav!'
Then she
shouted at the guards: 'You don't understand! Something's
wrong!'
Squirming like an eel, she nearly eluded her captors,
but then they pinioned her arms behind her back and dragged
her forcibly to the gates, her heels furrowing the gravel.

'If you value your job, you'll see that this one never gets in
again!' one of the guards snapped to the wide-eyed gate
keeper. Then they flung Senda out with such force that she all
but flew through the air. She landed painfully on the pavement
but, curiously, hardly felt the impact. She only knew that she
had to get back into the estate, and that the gate was already
swinging shut.

She stumbled dazedly to her feet and rushed the closing
gate, but it clanged shut in front of her, locking her out forever
with the same loud foreboding clang of finality as a jail door.

Her eyes streaming tears, she grasped hold of the curlicued
bars of the gates, clutching them in desperation as she sank to her knees under the iron and gilt coat of arms of the Danilovs.

'Vaslaaavv,' she howled in the keening, unearthly wail of
a wounded animal.
'VAAASSSLLLAAAVVvvv
. . .'

Chapter 27

Two days after Senda's ignoble eviction from the château,
Inge returned from the market with a newspaper folded under
her arm. She slapped it down on the kitchen table. 'There, it's
all in black and white. No wonder you could never get to the
Prince,' she announced.

Senda raised her eyebrows in puzzlement. She had no idea
what Inge was talking about.

'It's all there!' Inge pointed a wavering index finger at the newspaper. 'You thought something was wrong. Well, your
intuition was right!'

Slowly Senda approached the table and looked down. She
sucked in her breath. She could never forget that elegantly
evil face, not for as long as she lived.

Count Kokovtsov.

Her blood ran cold as she stared at the bold, page-wide
headline: COUNT INDICTED IN MURDER PLOT.

Her lips trembled and her hands shook as she read the
second bank of smaller headlines:
Russian exile charged with
conspiracy, attempted murder

Shaken, she snatched up the page and began to read.

Count Mordka Kokovtsov, the Russian nobleman, was
arrested last night on charges of grand larceny, conspiracy,
and attempted murder. His intended victims were Prince Vaslav Danilov and his wife, Princess Irina Danilov, Russian expatriates who fled the Bolshevik revolution and live
on the outskirts of Geneva. On his attorney's advice, Count
Kokovtsov remained silent and refused to respond to police
questioning.

Police sources say Kokovtsov, 53, a cousin of the Prince
and the Danilovs' chief financial adviser, had been slowly
poisoning the Danilovs over an extended period of time.
During afternoon tea, a household tradition, Kokovtsov
laced the Danilovs' tea with scopolomine.

Police were alerted by Daniel Delauney, president of the
Banque Danilov. The bank, headquartered here in Geneva,
is privately owned by the Danilovs. Apparently Delauney
had become increasingly alarmed as the effects of the scopo
lomine became more and more evident in the victims.

Scopolomine, a sedative hypnotic which depresses the
central nervous system, can kill in large quantities. In small,
regularly ingested doses, it causes a weakening of mental
faculties and subsequently leads to a slow, often undiag
nosed or misdiagnosed, death.

According to Delauney, the Danilovs were becoming
increasingly 'idiotic', with a near-total loss of memory. 'It
was as if they moved slowly in a dream world,' he told
reporters.

Delauney says he first became suspicious of Kokovtsov
when the Danilovs signed over or sold to him a number of multi-million franc businesses, including a munitions fac
tory in France and many thousands of acres of timberland,
at a fraction of their worth.

Doctors told this reporter that the Danilovs should slowly
regain their health and memory as the scopolomine works
out of their systems . . .

The newspaper slid through Senda's fingers and fell to the
table. 'So I was
right!'
she whispered. 'I
knew
that something
was wrong, only I had no idea what! When I saw Vaslav he . . .
he seemed to stare straight through me, as if I wasn't there.
At least now I know why.'

Dazed, she sank slowly onto one of the kitchen chairs, her face drained of colour. Her temples pounded mightily, and the ever-present coppery taste of blood in her throat, now
further tainted by the rancid acidity of bile, turned her
stomach. For a long time she stared into space.

Inge stooped down and put an arm around Senda's shoul
ders. 'Are you all right?' she asked in concern. 'Can I get you
something? You look like you're going to be sick.'

Slowly Senda shook her head back and forth. 'I . . . I'm all
right. Really, I am.' Then she sat quietly. Almost a full minute
passed before she realized she was staring at the newspaper. Savagely, she grabbed it and flipped it upside down. She had
had her fill of Count Kokovtsov. Seeing his photograph staring
up at her was more than she could bear.

'Well, it's time that evil man was put away!' Inge said grimly,
gesturing at the newspaper. 'The few times I saw him, he gave
me the willies. Just seeing his picture makes me feel like our
home's been invaded.'

Senda nodded. 'At least we know one thing now. When
Vaslav's well again, I won't have any trouble seeing him, but
it might take some time if these doctors are right.'

'We've waited this long.' Inge shrugged. 'What's a few days
or a few weeks more at this point? As long as he'll be healthy
again, that's all that matters.'