The Midwife of St. Petersburg (37 page)

“It is delicious. We had nothing to eat or drink on the train but what we could bring with us.”

He suspected far worse where the trains were concerned but thought it wise to minimize those worries for now. He noticed that Karena was tense. She was seldom this way, and he was more worried than he had been since the arrest of Josef. Harassment of Jews had escalated in the past weeks. He had written Yeva a few days ago asking that they not travel here alone. It was clear they had left Kiev before receiving his letter.

“How was the train?” he asked, deliberately calm. “I’m surprised you found seats.”

“Oh, Uncle, it was horrible.” She set her cup down with a nervous clatter.

He reached across the table and took her hand. “What happened?”

By the time she had told her story of hopeless roads, of being denied seats on the train, of conditions in the boxcar, she was calmer, as if sharing these things enabled her to accept them.

“And not only that, but just as we reached St. Petersburg Station, exhausted, with Mother growing more ill by the hour, we had the misfortune of arriving at the very moment a czarist official was assassinated. We
had the double misfortune of running into Alex—Colonel Kronstadt—and what’s more, he saw me. He may still be investigating.”

Aleksandr Kronstadt. An intelligent young man who had treated him respectfully. Even now, the young colonel was still in possession of the important first draft of his manuscript, with all of his notes. Matvey had received a short correspondence from him last week telling him that he expected to return everything shortly.

Matvey frowned, reaching for his pipe. So there’d been yet another assassination. He doubted if Karena knew who’d been attacked and did not burden her with questions. That Colonel Kronstadt was there also complicated matters for Karena and Sergei. The colonel already suspected it was Sergei, not Josef, at the Kiev meeting that night. If anyone were involved with the revolutionaries at Kiev, it would more naturally be Sergei.

There was still no word on Josef’s prison sentence. Matvey was growing more concerned for the outcome. Sergei had stopped by only yesterday, coming over from the Roskov house to visit him, pacing the floor over his father’s future, and blaming himself. Time and again, he’d wanted to inform the police, but Matvey counseled him it would only make matters worse. No matter what Sergei did, the authorities would keep his father under arrest for concealing the truth. Matvey did his best to illuminate the evils of the communist/socialist/Marxist system of beliefs, pointing out that it attacked the core of human belief in a God to whom all must answer. Sergei listened but kept silent, and he’d not been antagonistic. There yet remained hope for the young man.

“We managed to escape Kronstadt,” Karena was explaining. “I’d never have come here, Uncle, but with Mother as she is, I had no one else to turn to. She didn’t feel comfortable going to the Roskovs.”

Matvey looked up sharply over his old pipe. “
Escape?
Why did you feel you needed to escape Colonel Kronstadt?”

She fumbled with her cup and saucer.

Matvey watched her alertly. “He permitted you and Yeva to avoid
further questioning by Major-General Durnov. If he’d been of a mind to do so, he could have hauled you both in to Petrograd. He let you walk away. He met you in Kazan, did he not?”

She nodded, staring into her cup.

“Is there an attraction between the two of you?”

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She nodded. “More so on my part.”

“I don’t think so. Not after risking himself as he has to shield you.”

She remained silent.

“Is there something more, Karena? about your escape, I mean?”

“It’s Leonovich,” she said with a burst of emotion. “He’s dead.”

Matvey listened in dismay as she explained the repulsive details. An appalling silence settled over the room. It was some time before he could gather his voice to speak.

“You should have sent me a wire at once, Karena. I could have come to meet you. Does anyone else know of this? General Roskov?”

“No one.”

“You did well to come here. It will give us time to decide the best way to handle this. I must think.” He got up from the chair and walked about the kitchen. Leonovich—he knew little about the man but remembered seeing him a few times during his visits in Kiev. An odious wretch, a prowler—

“I wanted to go to the police,” Karena said, “but Mother didn’t think it wise.”

“After Grinevich? It’s understandable.”

“They wouldn’t have believed me,” Karena said, resting her forehead against her palm. “Not even the marks on Mother’s throat would have convinced them. The marks are still there—you saw them—but they were even worse.”

“I agree they would not have wanted to believe you. Still …” He shook his head, fearing the concealing of such facts. “Getting rid of Leonovich’s
body will only strengthen their suspicions of guilt. The facts must be given to someone who will listen to the truth. Kronstadt, perhaps.”

Her head jerked up. “No, Uncle.”

Matvey struck a match and absently lit his pipe. He could understand why she wished to avoid Kronstadt at the station; arriving on the heels of yet another political assassination could go badly for her. He let the matter pass for the present.

“We hope Leonovich’s death will be blamed on a robbery along the road,” Karena said. “The best thing would be if his body isn’t discovered at all. We planned to contact you secretly and explain to the family. Natalia, of course, was the biggest worry in that regard, and Sergei.”

“My dear, things don’t work so simply in life. I think you know that. If the authorities wish to convict you both of murder, they will. We’ll need to help one another, and by that I mean we Jews and those who befriend us. First, there is someone I must see. Please trust me in this.”

“I trust your judgment, Uncle, but—you’re not going to Colonel Kronstadt?”

Dismay covered her face, and he laid a steadying hand on her shoulder. “No, not yet.”

“Not yet?”

“There’s someone visiting in town, a lawyer friend from Finland. I’ve known him for several years. His knowledge is most valuable.”

“We can trust him?”

“Yes, we can. Others have.” He was thinking of those his friend had helped across the Finnish border into safety, yet he did not wish to alarm her now with the possibility that they must flee Russia. “After I’ve talked with him and others,” he said gently, “we’ll discuss matters.” If escape were necessary, it would be wiser to move with as little disturbance as possible. Agents of Durnov may be watching the Roskov residence, and they may even have this apartment under surveillance. Yeva’s illness made matters worse. It would be difficult for her to travel, especially across the border.

Matvey tried to conceal his fear from Karena. There was only one man in the Okhrana who might aid them. If Kronstadt did have a developing interest in her, he could be trusted.

Matvey made up his mind. He could only hide them for a short time. Karena was against contacting Kronstadt, but he must use his own judgment.

He thought of his Messianic studies. Many of his Jewish friends would be appalled to discover that he had become a believer in Jesus the Messiah. In his heart, he turned to his Savior and Redeemer for divine wisdom.
For their sakes
, he prayed,
may they, too, come to put their faith in Jesus, the Messiah
.

“We will make no further decisions just yet,” he told Karena. “You need food and rest, just as Yeva does. While you see to that, I’ll be going out. I need to make a few calls. I will return this evening. If I’m not back by supper, there are eggs and more cheese in the icebox and bread on the pantry shelf.”

She followed him into the hall. He opened the bedroom door, and they stood looking at Madame Yeva. Matvey’s anger was roused, as he understood the reason for the bruises on his sister’s throat and the cuts and swelling on Karena.
Lord, I entrust this to you. There are so many trials in life that just can’t be solved until your reign. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven!

Karena walked quickly to the bed. “Her brow is damp,” she whispered to him. “She’s flushed. Her breathing is heavy and troubled.”

She came back out of the small bedroom and closed the door behind her. “Uncle, I don’t think I should wait any longer to find a doctor.”

He nodded. But now that he knew the truth, he was no longer comfortable with calling the doctor he’d first had in mind. The man might be trustworthy, but caution must prevail.

“She does need medical care,” he said. “I thought so the moment I saw her. You’ve nothing, Karena, in her medical bag?”

“We brought little besides birthing supplies and some headache tonic. If I had mother’s quinine tablets … But I’ve already looked, and she hasn’t any. She either ran out or overlooked bringing them. But I am thinking of a woman she knows here in St. Petersburg. She knew her years ago at the medical college. She’s a doctor now—Dr. Lenski.”

The name jolted him. “Lenski’s mother? It would be a mistake to bring her here. If the apartment is being watched, the Okhrana will move in the moment they recognize her.”

“But they know where she is. She works freely out of the college—she and her daughter, Ivanna. If the Okhrana wanted to arrest them, they could have by now. Uncle, please. I’m sure it’s safe. I will call on her myself. There are several matters I need to discuss with her.”

“Then I’ll leave the doctor business to you, and I’ll make arrangements in town to see my lawyer friend. I should be back in time for supper.” From a drawer he removed a spare key and handed it to her.

“Better get something to eat and rest an hour. Matters will work out, Karena. We need to believe that there are greater purposes at work in the world and in our lives than most people acknowledge. We ignore those purposes to our peril.”

He saw a responsive flicker in her blue eyes and the beginning of a smile that tried to encourage him of her trust. He thought she might be close to believing in the Messiah. He patted her head, thinking of her as the little girl in braids he remembered from years ago.

“I wouldn’t assume too quickly that Colonel Kronstadt should be feared.”

Karena watched Uncle Matvey leave through the front door of the apartment. She stood for a moment, considering his suggestion, and then went into the kitchen to find food for her mother.

She found a piece of cooked lamb and set about to make a broth. While the meat simmered, she wet some hand towels, cooled them in the icebox for a few minutes, and with a small bowl of water, went to attend her mother’s fever.

Her mother’s eyes fluttered open. Karena watched her with concern. Yeva tried to reach for Karena’s hand.

Karena leaned closer, laying the cool cloth on her forehead. “Mother, you’re burning up with fever. A few days more like this, and you will waste away to nothing. There’s no choice but to go for a doctor. I’m going to try to get Dr. Lenski to prescribe medication. Or perhaps even Dr. Zinnovy. I never told you this, but he was kind to me at Kiev and—”

Her mother’s face turned rigid with protest. The reaction was so harsh that it surprised Karena.

“No,” Yeva whispered in a croaky voice. Her head fell back against the damp pillow with exhaustion, and her breath rattled in her lungs. She felt her mother’s fingers tighten on her hand.

“Dr. Zinnovy may not be able to come, Mother. But if he does, I am most confident he can be trusted now. He protected me from the police after Grinevich was attacked. He was there at the meeting too. I saw him.”

Karena does not understand. She thinks I don’t want Dmitri here because I fear he’ll go to the police. Poor Karena, my poor little girl. She will never know he’s her father, and I cannot tell her
.

“I must do something or I’ll lose you, Mother. I don’t want to lose you—”

Don’t want to lose you
. Those words came journeying back from the past in the emotional voice of Dmitri. Yeva had not seen him in years, and she did not want to see him now. The old ember of resentment burst into raw fire again. She looked up into Karena’s face, young yet wise beyond
her years—wiser than she herself had been at that age when she’d met the handsome Dr. Dmitri Zinnovy. She closed her eyes again. She was tired—so very tired—as her mind turned and began walking backward in time to when she was pregnant with her child and his …