The Romanov Conspiracy (49 page)

Yakov’s mouth twisted. “A lie for a start. You claimed you were unconscious. Sergeant Mersk confirmed that. You’re half-blind, and your glasses were cracked. So how could you have seen
anything
clearly, let alone know what happened?”

“I know the captain.”

“And I know that desperate men will do desperate things. Now out with it, and no harm will come to you or your family.”

“He contacted me.”

“When?”

“Earlier this afternoon. He wanted help, fresh clothes, and to borrow a typewriter. He was interested in the trains going east to the Urals and Ekaterinburg.”

“Did he have a woman with him?”

“As a matter of fact he did.”

They sat at the table, the silence broken only by the labored sound of Sergey’s breathing as he slept.

Nina whispered fearfully, “Please, put away the gun, Uri.”

Only when Andrev knew the room was safe did he do as Nina asked, stuffing the Nagant into his pocket.

He looked at Nina, unease between them as if they were strangers, and then he went to stand over the bed and stare down at his son. He noticed the medicine bottle by the bed. “How is he?”

“His chest is congested. The winter was bad on him. The doctor says to keep him warm and let him rest. Please don’t wake him, I only just got him to sleep, Uri.”

As his hand lingered over Sergey’s forehead, Andrev seemed to be having difficulty holding himself together, worry tightening his face, then he leaned over and gently kissed his son’s damp forehead.

Nina said quietly, “Please, don’t disturb him. I’ve even had to hide your photograph, so don’t let him see you. I beg you, Uri. It would only distress him. He’ll get confused and upset, and when you’ve gone he’ll be heartbroken.”

Andrev’s eyes were moist as he looked down at his son, then Nina whispered, “Please, sit at the table. Keep your voice down.”

He joined her, and Nina said, “You can’t stay. It’s not safe. You’ve taken a great risk coming here. It endangers us all.”

“I know. I won’t stay long. But I had to see you both again.”

There was no mistaking the signs of stress: Nina looked washed out and tired, her figure even more slender. He reached out, touched her hand. “How have you been?”

“Surviving.”

“And your parents?”

“They were arrested months ago. The Reds threw them into a cell in Lefortovo.”

“For what reason?”

“Does there have to be a reason anymore? My father was a businessman, he owned property. That’s reason enough.”

He squeezed her hand. “I’m truly sorry, Nina.”

She pulled her hand away, took a handkerchief from her apron, and
wiped her eyes, then stood anxiously and went to peer out the rear window. “If the Cheka find you here we’re all finished. You really can’t stay, Uri.”

“Nina, there’s a reason why I came, not just to see you both. I escaped to England.”

“Leonid Yakov came here the other day. He thought you had gone there. He said if you ever appeared I was to tell him.”

Andrev said bitterly, “I thought he might show up.”

“They’re watching me, Uri, surely you know that.”

“I know.” He moved again to the curtain and peered out. “I’ve been careful. I don’t believe I’ve been spotted. I had to leave Russia, Nina, but I’ve returned for a reason. I want you and Sergey to leave Moscow and come with me.”

She stared back at him, almost a look of panic on her face. “Leave Moscow? For where?”

He came back to the table. “England. We can start a new life there, all of us together.”

“We’re divorced, Uri. I thought I made that clear.”

“Nina, whatever our differences are, I ask you to put them aside and think of Sergey. Even if we were never again to be man and wife, I ask you to put our son first. He needs us both. Especially now.”

He heard the bitter edge in her voice. “And what kind of life has this been? Living in poverty, with no husband? With the constant fear of being imprisoned?”

“Nina—”

“For the last four years you’ve been either a soldier or a prisoner, not a husband and father. I know there’s the war, I know that you’re a victim of it as much as we are, but I couldn’t go on like that. I couldn’t live with the uncertainty, the wondering if you’d ever come home alive, if Sergey would always have a father … can’t you see? Can’t you see why I had to end it?”

Suddenly she broke down, racked by sobbing, her shoulders heaving as she leaned over the table, burying her face in her hands.

She sounded close to the breaking point, and he realized then the enormous strain she was under. Sergey stirred in his sleep. Nina heard him, and put a hand to her mouth to stifle her cries.

“Nina, please …” Andrev pulled her close, held her.

She clung to him and they remained like that a while, as he rocked her back and forth, until she pulled away from him, wiped her eyes, and managed to compose herself.

“This isn’t getting us anywhere, Uri. I’ll always care about you. Always. But you must understand that I have to think of our son. There’s something else you should know. Yakov said if I didn’t inform on you Lenin would exile Sergey and me to a camp in Siberia.”

The color left Andrev’s face. “Then you can’t stay: you have to leave with me at once.”

“No, it’s you who have to leave, Uri. Quietly and quickly, so no one will know you were here.”

“Nina—”

“To do otherwise will only endanger Sergey’s life. By remaining in Moscow, he and I stand some chance. Trying to escape, we’d risk death.”

Andrev felt overcome, his face distraught. “There’s no hope, then? I can never see you both again?”

She looked at him, her eyes welling. “I can’t risk sacrificing our son’s life by putting him in jeopardy. I can’t do it, Uri. Don’t you see? Please, just go. Don’t put us in any more danger.
Please
.”

He understood the brutal logic to it, the awful truth at its core, but before Andrev could reply, Sergey stirred from sleep as a fit of hoarse coughing rattled his lungs.

He rubbed his eyes and whimpered as he sat up in bed. The moment he recognized his father his eyes snapped open in disbelief. He looked to his mother, as if for confirmation, then his lips began to tremble uncertainly.

Nina said unhappily, “Uri, go now, I beg you, just go …”

Andrev moved over to the bed and lifted his son in his arms. Sergey was confused and stared at him, but then nature kicked in and the child clung to his father’s chest like an animal cub, unwilling to let go. “Papa … Papa!”

“Sergey … Papa’s here, it’s fine.”

“Mama … Mama said you were gone.”

“I was, but I’m here now. It’s all right.”

Andrev embraced his son, feeling so choked with emotion that all he could do was stand there, kissing him, rocking him in his arms.

A second later came the rumble of engines out in the street, followed by the squeal of brakes.

His heart pounded as he peered out the window and saw several trucks pull up at the curb. Plainclothes men and troops jumped out.

Nina said palely, “What’s wrong?”

Andrev was ashen. “Soldiers, lots of them.” He saw the familiar figure of Leonid Yakov striding out of one of the trucks and barking orders at the men. “Yakov’s among them.”

He kissed a confused Sergey, handed him to Nina, and reached for his gun.

Nina put a hand on his arm that held the weapon. “No, you must go, Uri, out the back way, disappear
now
! For pity’s sake, you can’t be found here.”

71

MOSCOW

Lydia heard the squeal of brakes as the three trucks rounded the corner. Her stomach churned with unease, her hand tightening on the Nagant in her pocket.

Suddenly there were soldiers everywhere, climbing out of the trucks and rushing toward the tenement. She had a terrible feeling of doom.

She could simply walk away as Andrev had told her, but some instinct wouldn’t allow it. She crossed the street and turned into the back lane that ran along the tenements. A British-made Douglas motorcycle with two Red Army soldiers roared up behind her, one of them riding in a sidecar.

The man climbed out, and as he aimed his rifle at her his comrade tore off his goggles, hung them on the handlebars, and dismounted.

“And where do you think you’re going, woman?”

“I—I live here,” Lydia said. The man with the rifle had her in his sights.

“Really? We’ll soon find out if that’s true.” The driver had a sharp, cunning face and as he came forward he tore out his revolver. “Get your hands up where I can see them.”

“I—I’ve done nothing wrong,” Lydia protested.

The man pushed her roughly against the wall. His hand moved coarsely between her legs as he patted her down. He searched her pockets and found the Nagant, triumph on his face. “Not so innocent now, are we? What are you doing with a weapon?”

When Lydia didn’t answer, he grinned and pushed her forward. “Don’t worry, we’ll get the answer out of you. Keep walking, straight ahead. There’s a Commissar Yakov who’d like to have a word.”

Yakov pushed through the tenement front door and moved cautiously along the hallway to Nina’s apartment. He nodded to the two men accompanying him and they kicked in Nina’s door, splintering wood, before they rushed in, rifles sweeping the room.

Nina was standing by the bed, clutching her son to her breast, the child in tears, his lips trembling.

“Where is he?” Yakov demanded, brandishing his gun.

She didn’t answer.

Yakov crossed to her, the crying child clinging to his mother, his face a mask of confusion and terror.

“Don’t make this any more difficult than it already is. And don’t play games, Nina. You’re in enough trouble.”

When she still didn’t reply one of the soldiers went to strike her with his rifle but Yakov caught the man by the arm and spun him round. “Get out. Both of you. Go the back way. Find him.”

The men rushed out. Yakov stood staring at her with livid rage.

“You fool, what have you done, Nina? This can only end badly for you. Where is he? Tell me and I promise to ask for leniency for you and your son.”

But she seemed rooted to the spot, unable even to speak, a growing terror in her eyes. The sobbing boy clung even more tightly to his mother and shot fearful glances at Yakov.

He was getting nowhere. “Stay here until I come back, and don’t move. Uri can’t escape, the area’s completely surrounded.”

Only when he went toward the door did she react, reaching out for him with a pitiful expression, the child still in her arms. “Please, don’t harm him, Leonid, for Sergey’s sake, I beg you.”

“It’s far too late for that.”

72