before him, dressed in black.
His education failed him. He had no idea what he should say if she chose to address him.
“Who is this?” she demanded.
“He says he’s a chief investigator from Petrograd.”
The Empress snorted in derision, as if he weren’t there. “It’s not good for Alexei to be out in the cold so long.” She spoke Russian with a heavy German accent.
Vyrubova’s expression was instantly soothing. “He seems better today.”
“He’s no judge of his own well-being.”
“He wants to be out with the girls.”
“I know he does, but that doesn’t mean that it is good for him.”
The Empress of the Russias turned to him. “What is he doing here?”
Anna Vyrubova handed the Tsarina the photograph that was still in her hand. She studied it for a moment and then looked up again, her mouth taut. “I suppose you think it is our fault.”
Ruzsky did not know what to say.
“She was murdered,” Vyrubova explained. “It wasn’t-”
The Empress looked confused. “Murdered?”
It appeared to be a question for him. “Yes,” Ruzsky said, clearing his throat and bowing slightly. “It would appear so, Your…” Ruzsky wondered if he should have said “Your Imperial Highness,” but, as he considered the question, a hint of resentment at his mother’s own fawning approach to the imperial family acted as its own check. Their manner was damned rude.
“It would appear so? Surely you must know.”
“Yes… That is correct.”
“How was she murdered?”
Ruzsky glanced at Vyrubova to see whether he should continue to answer, but received no signal either way. “She was stabbed. Once. The man with her, seventeen times.” Ruzsky handed a photograph of the man’s head and shoulders to the Empress. She looked at it without expression and then passed it to her companion.
“How did you know she worked here?” the Empress asked.
Ruzsky looked at Vyrubova, but her face was impassive. “I didn’t,” he said.
Ruzsky thought he saw a slight flush developing in the Tsarina’s cheeks.
“Ella worked in the nursery,” Vyrubova explained. “And was very fond of the children.”
“She was a pretty girl,” the Empress said. “But unreliable.”
“She was very fond of the family,” Vyrubova went on, “and sad to go.”
They were silent. Their sudden garrulousness confused him. “If you don’t mind me asking,” Ruzsky said, “to go where?”
“She was dismissed,” the Empress said.
There was another long silence.
“Would it be impertinent…” Ruzsky kept his eyes on Vyrubova so as not to rile the Empress. “May I ask why?”
The Empress frowned, tilting her head to one side. “You may not.”
“I apologize, Your Highness.”
“She stole from us,” the Tsarina said suddenly. She sighed. “There was no choice but to dismiss her. It upset the children. She upset the children.”
“She was too close to them,” Vyrubova added. “To the Little One, to Sunbeam, especially.”
The Empress’s irritation with her colleague began to show again.
“She was sad to leave here?” Ruzsky asked.
“Devastated. Of course.” The Empress seemed suddenly to remember herself. “I did not expect anyone to be here,” she told Vyrubova. “Telephone me when you have dealt with this man.”
She walked out. They waited, watching her pass the window and the white fence around the garden.
Vyrubova did not look at him. There was an intimacy between them suddenly, as if he had witnessed a domestic scene normally kept away from prying eyes. She stared at her shoes, a rueful smile at the corner of her lips.
“What did this girl… Ella… steal?”
Vyrubova was evasive again. “Oh, I don’t know.”
“You don’t know what she took?”
“No.” She looked out of the window. The Empress was now some distance away. “No.”
“Some money?”
“No. I mean, yes. Money.”
“How much?”
She turned back, still not meeting his eye. “I don’t know.”
Ruzsky smiled
authors_sort
Celia Aaron
Martina Boone
Lady of Mallow
Kathryn Blair
Samantha Long
Josie Leigh
Naguib Mahfouz
Sebastian Junger
Bink Cummings