Spies in St. Petersburg

by Katherine Woodfine

  ‘Gosh!’ exclaimed Lil at once. ‘So who was really behind it?’

  Sophie smiled in spite of everything. It felt so unlikely and yet so wonderfully comfortable to have Lil here beside her, in Vera’s parlour. ‘I believe it was a man known as Mr Gold,’ she explained. ‘And I’m fairly certain he’s a member of the Fraternitas Draconum.’

  ‘What?’ exclaimed Carruthers.

  ‘Wait – this fellow, Viktor – does he live here, in this house?’ asked Lil suddenly.

  ‘No,’ said Sophie, rather surprised by the unexpected question. ‘This house belongs to Vera and Boris Orlov. They live here with their grandchildren and their son, Mitya, who was at the circus tonight too. He’s part of Viktor’s group, and one of the students who was tricked into taking part in the plot tonight.’

  ‘Perhaps that makes more sense of it, then,’ said Lil, looking at Carruthers. ‘Just listen to this. We followed Rogers into the yard behind the circus building. There was a funny old cart waiting for him there in the dark. While everyone else was inside watching the show, he loaded it up with a big crate – a crate which I happen to know contained guns.’

  ‘Rogers must have already given some of them to the students – but there were still plenty in the box,’ Carruthers interjected. ‘It was obviously heavy.’

  ‘But this is the strangest part. Rogers gave the driver an address – presumably, the place he should deliver the crate.’

  ‘It was this address,’ said Carruthers. ‘The address you’d just given us – for this exact house. Number 3 Ulitsa Zelenaya.’

  Sophie and Nakamura stared. ‘Are you sure?’ asked Sophie, astonished.

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Carruthers.

  ‘That’s why I wanted to know if Viktor lived here,’ added Lil.

  ‘But why would Viktor have guns sent here?’ Sophie wondered.

  ‘To hide them away from the authorities?’ suggested Nakamura. ‘For all we know, tonight was not the only attack that has been planned. There may be more to come.’

  Ravi had been frowning deeply through this, obviously trying to follow their conversation. Now, he spoke up. ‘But are we not missing something important? If the driver was supposed to deliver this crate of guns here, several hours ago, then where is it now?’ He gazed around the parlour, his arms stretched out, as though to indicate that there was clearly no big crate of guns anywhere to be seen.

  Nakamura got to his feet. ‘He’s right. But if this crate really did turn up here while we were out at the circus, Herr Schmidt might know about it,’ he said to Sophie. ‘I’m going to go and wake him up.’

  He hurried upstairs. Carruthers got to his feet too, looking impatient. ‘Look – this is all very well,’ he said bossily. ‘But you still haven’t explained what the Fraternitas have to do with any of this. What’s the connection?’

  ‘I heard Viktor say he worked for a man he called Gold, which I found out is a code name for someone high up in the Fraternitas. But then there’s also this,’ Sophie announced, feeling in her pocket for the notebook and holding it out. ‘I caught Viktor snooping about in my room earlier today. I think he might have been looking for it.’

  Carruthers’ face lit up with an uncharacteristic flash of excitement. ‘Is that what I think it is? The stolen notebook?’

  ‘Yes – and that’s not all. The notebook contains the instructions for making a spyglass, like this one,’ she explained, producing the velvet box and opening it. ‘If you look through it, it allows you to see the clues hidden in the dragon paintings.’

  ‘Good heavens!’ exclaimed Carruthers, gazing at the glittering spyglass lying inside. ‘How did you get this?’

  ‘That’s what the telegram was all about,’ Sophie went on. ‘The telegram I thought was from the Chief. I wrote and asked whether I should bring the notebook straight back to the Bureau or have the spyglass constructed first. He told me to go ahead and have the spyglass made – so that’s exactly what I did.’

  ‘Except that the telegram wasn’t from him,’ objected Carruthers. ‘I’m sure of it.’

  ‘I don’t see how you can possibly be so certain,’ argued Lil.

  ‘You don’t understand,’ said Carruthers. ‘The Chief doesn’t hide anything from me – he couldn’t. I see everything that goes in and out of that office. Really, the only way I could have missed this was if the telegram hadn’t been sent until after we’d already left to go to Hamburg.’

  ‘And it couldn’t have been,’ said Lil promptly. ‘It was dated the day before we left.’

  ‘But if the Chief didn’t send the telegram, then surely it’s obvious who did . . .’ said Sophie.

  ‘The Fraternitas,’ breathed Lil.

  There was silence for a moment. Hanna and Ravi were looking around in confusion, obviously without the first idea what they were talking about. But Sophie knew that Lil too had already pieced it together in her mind. It was quite clever when you thought about it. The Fraternitas had found a way to intercept her messages to the Chief – whether here in St Petersburg, or back in London. They knew where she was and what she was doing. They’d let her go to all the trouble of persuading the Count to give up the notebook, and having the spyglass made. Now, presumably, it was part of Viktor’s job to steal them both from her before she took them back to the Bureau. Goodness knows what they had told him about her, or about why the spyglass was so important to them.

  Carruthers snapped the velvet box shut. ‘We’ve got to get this and the notebook out of St Petersburg and back to the Bureau immediately. We cannot possibly risk either of them falling into the hands of the Fraternitas.’ He looked at Sophie and Lil. ‘We’ll set off first thing tomorrow.’

  ‘But we can’t just leave!’ Lil protested at once. ‘The attack at the circus – the students – Rogers’ gun-smuggling – the Fraternitas being mixed up in it all. What if Captain Nakamura is right, and this attack was just the beginning?’

  ‘This could all be part of an even bigger plot to stir up trouble in St Petersburg,’ said Sophie. ‘If they succeed, who knows what the consequences might be?’

  ‘We’ll notify the Russian authorities. They can deal with it,’ said Carruthers promptly. He looked up and saw Hanna’s bewildered expression. ‘I’m sorry, but this has to be our priority – it’s a matter of British security. It’s more important than anything else.’

  Sophie frowned. It was true that the notebook was all she’d thought about for months – but now she was here, in Vera’s parlour in the middle of the night, in the light of the glowing fire, she was suddenly no longer so sure she agreed with him.

  ‘No. We aren’t leaving,’ she insisted. Apart from anything else, she couldn’t just desert Vera and Boris. They had generously taken her in and given her a home in St Petersburg. Now they were heartbroken – and who knew what might happen to Mitya? She couldn’t possibly abandon them now.

  Carruthers looked from Sophie to Lil rather scornfully. ‘Well, even if neither of you can see sense, I can,’ he declared, snatching the notebook out of Sophie’s hand. ‘I’m taking this and the spyglass too – and I’m getting them out of here. You can do whatever you want, but I’m taking these to the Bureau.’

  Sophie leaped to her feet, snatching the notebook back at once. ‘You can’t do that!’ she protested.

  ‘Why not?’ insisted Carruthers, putting out a hand to grab it back again, but Sophie stepped backwards.

  ‘Because I gave my word that I would give this only to someone I trust absolutely. I promised I would see the weapon destroyed and I don’t break my promises.’

  ‘Oh, so now you’re saying you don’t trust me?’ said Carruthers angrily.

  ‘Well, at the moment I must say that I don’t trust you very much either,’ said Lil, coming to stand beside Sophie. ‘How can you even think of leaving everyone in the lurch like this? Just because you want to rush off to the Chief and get all the credit for Sophie’s hard work!’

  ‘That’s not it at all!’ said Carruthers pompo
usly. ‘It’s quite obviously the only sensible thing to do.’

  Lil stared at him for a long moment, as though she had suddenly been struck by something. ‘Sophie’s letters have been going astray. We know someone has been sending messages back to her, pretending to be the Chief. Someone has been intercepting them, someone who works for the Fraternitas . . . And you said it yourself, a dozen times. Everything that goes in or out of the Bureau goes through your hands.’

  ‘What are you babbling about now?’ muttered Carruthers crossly.

  Lil glared at him, her hands on her hips. ‘What if it’s you? What if you’re the one secretly working for the Fraternitas – spying and sneaking, and passing information back to them?’

  Carruthers gave a derisive laugh. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous!’

  ‘Am I being ridiculous? I saw your secret spy hole with my own eyes!’

  ‘It’s not a spy hole! You don’t know what you’re talking about!’

  ‘No wonder you’re so keen to go off with the notebook and the spyglass by yourself. You’re probably planning to hand them straight over to your real bosses!’

  Carruthers stared at her, speechless. ‘Is that really what you think of me?’ he demanded.

  The parlour door creaked open. Nakamura was on the threshold, and just behind him – wearing a rather moth-eaten velvet dressing gown and an old-fashioned nightcap with a tassel on it – was the Count.

  ‘It’s true,’ said Nakamura breathlessly. ‘A big crate was delivered here – about ten o’clock this evening. They took it down to the cellar.’

  ‘I supposed it must be for you,’ said the Count to Nakamura, looking dazed and still half asleep. ‘Aeroplane parts, or something of that sort. Did I do something wrong?’

  But just then, the front door banged open and someone else came running into the room. Sophie jumped to her feet. ‘Mitya!’ she exclaimed.

  He was wild-eyed and gasping for breath ‘Where are Mama and Papa? The police were after me, but I managed to get away. I know I shouldn’t have come here but I had to tell them the truth! None of that was supposed to happen! No one was supposed to get hurt! I had no idea there would be so many guns – there would only be one or two, Viktor said, in order to take a few pot-shots at the flags and the Imperial Eagle. We were just going to shout some slogans, throw our leaflets into the air and shake everyone up a bit, you know? And then we were going to make a run for it and scatter before they could catch us. It had all been arranged. But then there were so many guns – and the police turned up – and it all went wrong. It was a trap! They made it look like we’d set out to assassinate the Tsar, and harm his family – but we’d never have done that!’

  ‘I know,’ said Sophie, trying to reassure him. ‘I think it was a set-up. I think Viktor –’

  But before she could say anything else, there was a sudden roar of a motor-car engine, loud in the silent street. Feet were pounding up the steps outside; someone was hammering hard on the front door.

  ‘Police!’ yelled a voice. ‘Open up at once!’

  London and St Petersburg

  On Fleet Street, the shops were closing. The chemist was putting up his shutters for the night; beneath the red and white striped awning of a café, a waitress in a frilly white apron was turning the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’. Clerks were streaming out of offices, hurrying towards the omnibus or the underground train; and a boy selling newspapers yelled out headlines from the evening edition.

  Not far away from him, Joe was standing close to the offices of The Daily Picture. He’d talked over what he’d seen with Billy, and they both felt sure that more investigating must be done. Billy had taken himself off to the public library. ‘I want to look through some back issues of The Daily Picture,’ he told Joe excitedly. ‘If Brooks really is leaking information from the Secret Service Bureau, then maybe there’ll be some hints of it I can find.’

  But the library wasn’t Joe’s kind of place. He’d decided to stick with what he was good at. He’d wondered about going back to the Bureau to watch for Brooks again, but in the end, he’d found himself drawn back to the offices of The Daily Picture. Somehow he felt sure that they were important. Now, as he watched, he caught sight of the woman he’d seen the previous day, coming out of the building along with half a dozen other people – newspaper reporters, filing clerks, typewriter girls, all finishing their work for the day.

  She was dressed just as smartly as before, in the same trim tailor-made suit, with a neat hat perched on her head at a stylish angle. She wore the same white gloves and carried the same expensive-looking handbag. She walked straight past him, past the paperboy on the corner; and Joe followed at once – dodging between the bowler hats and boaters. Was there any chance she was going to the park, to pick up another hidden message from Brooks he wondered. But no – she couldn’t be. She was going the other way along Fleet Street, walking purposefully. Joe could just see the top of her hat, bobbing gently above the crowds.

  A little way along the street, she flagged down an omnibus and climbed aboard. Joe had to run to catch up, but managed to clamber on too, before the bus pulled away again. He hadn’t expected her to get on a bus at all – she looked more like the kind of woman who’d take a motor-taxi, or at least the underground. He wiped his forehead, catching his breath and fishing in his pocket for some change for the ticket. He hadn’t even had time to see which bus it was, so he just said: ‘All the way please,’ to the conductor.

  The woman had taken a seat on the top deck, quite near the front, her white-gloved hands folded neatly in her lap, her handbag placed on the seat beside her. Joe settled himself down several rows behind, wondering where she was going. He watched her carefully but she didn’t move, only stared ahead as the omnibus swept forward in the throng of cars and carriages, heading east along Fleet Street, towards the old City.

  ‘Police! Open up!’ yelled the voice again. The hammering on the door grew louder. From upstairs came the sound of anxious exclamations and Mitya looked desperately around him.

  There were feet on the stairs, and then Vera came rushing in, with Boris close behind her. ‘Mitya!’ she cried out.

  ‘Get upstairs, quickly,’ said Boris, grabbing his son’s arm, and dragging him towards the staircase. ‘We have to hide you!’

  ‘Oh golly,’ breathed Lil, realising what was happening. ‘They had that crate of guns sent here on purpose, didn’t they? Now the police are here, and if they find the weapons . . .’

  ‘Then Mitya and his family – or any of us – could be blamed for plotting to assassinate the Tsar,’ finished Nakamura.

  ‘Goodness! What should we do?’ asked Hanna.

  ‘We have to try and stall them while we find the crate,’ said Sophie at once. If you could be imprisoned on the basis of a policeman’s suspicion that you might be a revolutionary, she didn’t dare to imagine what they might do if they found a whole crate of smuggled guns secretly hidden in a cellar. If they found Mitya he would certainly be arrested – and they might arrest Vera and Boris too. Her breath caught in her throat as she realised the house was full of strangers in St Petersburg – as British citizens she and Lil and Carruthers might be all right – but what about the others? ‘We have to get those guns out of the cellar before the police find them.’

  Boris and Mitya had already disappeared upstairs, and now, gathering herself, Vera stormed towards the front door and flung it open: ‘What do you think you are doing, banging on people’s doors in the middle of the night?’ she demanded bravely.

  But her voice was hardly heard. A horde of policemen, huge and intimidating, in their red and silver uniforms, were surging into the house. ‘Vera Ivanovna Orlov?’ demanded one, obviously their Chief. ‘I am Officer Morozov of His Imperial Majesty the Tsar’s Okhrana. We are here for your son, Dmitri Borisovich Orlov. We have information that he was the leader of the dangerous revolutionary group who attacked His Imperial Majesty, the Tsar and his family, tonight.’ He turned to several of his men. ‘Search t
his house!’ he ordered them. ‘Look for the guns!’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ demanded Vera. ‘Our son is not involved in any such plot!’

  ‘What’s happening?’ Lil whispered in Sophie’s ear, not understanding the Russian speech.

  ‘They’re here to arrest Mitya – and to look for guns,’ Sophie whispered back.

  Nakamura had already taken advantage of the hubbub to slip down the stairs to the cellar, closely followed by the Count. ’I’ll go with them,’ whispered Hanna. ‘I might be able to help.’

  Lil nodded and turned to Ravi. ‘I think it’s time for a diversion. Can you help me – and Shesha too?’

  Ravi beamed. ‘Of course. Shesha will be delighted to be of assistance,’ he declared, lifting the enormous snake from around his shoulders.

  Sophie understood at once what Lil was planning. She gave her a quick nod, and then darted forward to where Vera was still trying to argue with Officer Morozov, as his men pushed roughly into the house. She saw them shove their way into the dining room and into Vera’s kitchen, pushing books off shelves, opening cupboards, and sweeping dishes off tables, letting them shatter on to the floor.

  ‘You’ve got this all wrong!’ Vera was pleading.

  ‘Out of my way, old woman,’ said Morozov, pushing her away from him. ‘Or I’ll see you and your husband arrested and thrown into prison. Where is your son?’

  He made for the stairs, but before he could take another step, Sophie called out in French: ‘Take care! Watch out! There’s a poisonous snake loose in this house!’

  Morozov turned to stare at her. ‘A snake?’ he repeated, in scornful disbelief.

  ‘Some of the performers from the Circus of Marvels are lodging here,’ she explained rapidly. ‘One of them is the snake charmer – but his snake has escaped. He says it is very dangerous! Please, you must tell your men to beware or they may be bitten!’

  Lil darted forward too. ‘There it is – I see it!’ she shrieked, pointing and screaming as if absolutely terrified. She spoke in English but her meaning was quite clear – Morozov and several of his men drew back, glimpsing the sinuous form of a simply enormous snake, slithering rapidly towards the stairs.