The White Russian by Tom Bradby Page A

encouragingly. “You seem to keep few secrets from each other.”
    “Who?”
    “You and the Empress.”
    “That is not your business.”
    “No. Of course. I just imagined she would have told you the cause of this girl’s sudden dismissal.”
    “She rules the Empire during the Tsar’s absence at the front, commanding our great forces. She doesn’t have time to deal with the minutiae of the household. This girl was unimportant.”
    “But the children were upset.”
    “They will quickly recover. It is best to be removed from unsuitable influences.”
    “How was she unsuitable, exactly?”
    “Oh… I don’t know.” Ruzsky saw the impatience in Vyrubova’s expression, but did not understand why she was making such heavy weather of the lies she was telling. “You must ask the household staff.”
    “As you wish. May I go over now?”
    “No.” She was shocked. “You must write. Apply in writing.”
    “To whom?”
    “To the household. To Colonel Shulgin. He deals with such matters.”
    Ruzsky tried to prevent his exasperation from showing. “Was Ella from Petersburg?”
    “No, she wasn’t. Yalta or Sevastopol. Somewhere on the peninsula.”
    “How did she come to be employed here?”
    “I have no idea. You’ll have to ask the household staff.”
    “Did you know the girl well?”
    “Ella? No. Not at all.”
    “But you gave her one of your dresses?”
    “Yes, but… She had not worked here long.”
    “How long?”
    “A few months. Perhaps a little more.”
    “Did she ever talk about her personal life here in Petrograd?”
    “Not to me. I don’t believe so. No she didn’t.”
    “Did she have any family or friends that you know of?”
    “I’ve no idea.”
    “What was her family name?”
    “Kovyil.”
    Ruzsky noted it down. “So you saw her when you were with the children. She was a nanny. To Alexei?”
    “She helped in the nursery.” Vyrubova’s expression clouded. “It was disgraceful. To steal like that. Disgraceful. The Empress has always been most generous.”
    Ruzsky doubted, from the tone of her voice, that this was true.
    “But you knew the girl well. Well enough to give her one of your dresses.”
    “No. I hardly spoke to her.”
    “It was an act of great generosity.”
    “She mentioned how much she liked it one day. It no longer fit me. After she was dismissed, I sent it to her.”
    “But Madame Renaud’s dresses are not inexpensive…”
    Vyrubova looked at him, assessing him properly for the first time. She took a pace away. “I must go to the palace.”
    “I would ask you to stay a few moments more,” he said quietly.
    “I have work to do.”
    “And I too.” Ruzsky’s tone checked her. “This girl was walking arm in arm with her lover under the moonlight in the first hours of our New Year. They were viciously attacked. Even in these troubled days, murder must not go unheeded, surely.”
    She stared at him. He wondered if she had privately expressed such sentiments at the way in which Rasputin’s killers had escaped justice.
    “Who are you? What is your name?” she demanded.
    “Ruzsky. Alexander Nikolaevich.”
    She frowned. “You are related to the assistant minister of finance.”
    “My father.”
    She assessed him with inscrutable eyes. “I cannot help you further.”
    “Did you recognize the man?”
    Vyrubova realized she still had the photograph in her hand. She returned it to him. “No.”
    “He wasn’t a member of the household staff also?”
    “No.”
    “You haven’t seen him before?”
    She shook her head.
    “Did Ella ever speak about a male friend, a lover perhaps-”
    “I told you. I hardly knew the girl.”
    Ruzsky breathed in deeply to hide his impatience. “When you say Ella was upset, what do you mean? Did you-”
    “It was the Empress who said she was upset. I did not see her.”
    This was so obviously a lie that Ruzsky found himself getting angry for the first time. “From everything you’ve said, madam, I find that-”
    “I have