by Frank Perry
were working for different people and tracking down the Army stuff brought back to Michigan after the war. It turns out that our doughboys, the guys who shipped out to France from Jackson, ended up extended into an American Expeditionary Force in Siberia during the Russian civil war. It was supposed to be to protect all the American war materials given to Russia earlier to fight the Germans. It was horrible duty. Anyway, the guy your great-grandfather killed made his men collect things during the World War to bring back to sell. We thought it was only German war scavenging, but that’s not all. The Michigan Brigade stayed in Russia until 1920 and was on a train in the end with valuables from the royal family. Hicks stole that in addition to all the dead German stuff in France. The two researchers killed at the granary were looking for Hicks’ boxes, the boxes at your farm, to find the stolen Russian valuables for their clients.”
“What’s in them, Jim?”
“I don’t know. It’s probably mainly German battlefield stuff, based on what Sibley said, but I also think there could be this Russian stuff.”
“So, what do we do?”
“I don’t know, Kiki. I don’t know. This guy, Peter Mikhailovich, sounded like he would pay a lot of money for the crates. Maybe you should just sell it all to him.”
“Yeah, but what if it’s worth more than he would pay? I still think we should hold the auction. If this guy Mikhailovich wants it so bad, he can bid on it.”
“There’s another problem. A Russian mafia guy is also after it. I don’t think he knows you’ve got it yet, but he could be dangerous. He’s already shot two people in Jackson County. Now that you’re advertising it, you could be the next target. It would be best to get rid of it all as quick as you can.”
Examination
His chartered plane landed at Jackson County Airport at noon the next day. Peter Mikhailovich could no longer rely on his dead researcher. His confidence in the evidence was growing for the Michigan location. His whole future, the future of the White Russians could be in the balance. He wasn’t going to trust anyone else at this point. It was too dangerous to send anyone else after Evan was killed. Huge fortunes have a way of corrupting the incorruptible. It was now on him.
He speed-dialed the only Michigan number in his phone. “Olander.”
“Detective, it’s Peter Mikhailovich, I thought I’d show myself in the flesh so we could talk.”
Jim took a breath, “Where are you at?”
“The airport, just arrived. I thought you would have called me back by now.”
“Sorry about that, Mr. Mikhailovich. I had to make some calls.”
“That’s okay. Ah, can we meet?”
Jim thought for a moment, “Yeah, go to the restaurant at the airport. I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll be the guy in the white polo shirt with Mikhailovich Construction on the front.”
“See you in a bit.”
Before leaving, Jim called Kiki, “Hey, I wanted you to know that the White Russian Prince just landed at Jackson County.”
She was sitting at her desk in the police station, “Persistent, isn’t he. What’s he doing there?”
“I think this missing Russian property must be really important to him, like the crown jewels. Anyway, I’m on my way to the airport to meet him. I won’t say anything about the property without talking to you again.”
“Okay, I’ll keep my cell handy.”
Kiki didn’t know how to react. The boxes could be valuable, but people had also been killed looking for them and she was now advertising that she had them. She knew Jim could take care of himself, but she wasn’t sure what to do next. She called Sibley.
Jim pulled up in front of the Airport Café in less time than he predicted. It was one of the places he would go for lunch, and the owner knew him. She also waited on tables while her husband cooked. As he entered, he heard the familiar female voice, “Hi, Jim.” He waived, then spotted Peter Mikhailovich sitting at a booth facing him. He was a big man, almost as big as Jim. Years had softened the former master carpenter, who now ran a multi-million dollar company. Peter stood, and they shook hands before sitting across from each other. Without asking, a cup of black coffee was set in front of him. He smiled at her, “Thanks; nothing to eat, Gladys.” He looked across the table, and Peter just nodded content with his water.
Peter spoke first, “Thanks for coming to meet me, Detective, I wasn’t sure what to do coming here, but I didn’t want anyone else getting hurt.”
“Call me Jim. People get uneasy around here when they hear me called Detective.”
“Okay, Jim. I’m Peter.”
“So, Peter, can you tell me anything new?”
“Jim, I don’t know, I was just so sad about Evan, I didn’t think he would be in danger here in the States. He got out of Russia alright, and I don’t know how Jelavich found him unless the girl had something to do with it. I just didn’t see the danger. The girl, Karina, had been special to Evan, but Jelavich has her mother under guard, and Evan thought he was keeping her hostage. Poor thing, I hope her mother is alright.”
“She was a beautiful girl from what I saw.” Jim remembered her lying on the ground in a pool of blood.
“She got involved and couldn’t get out. I only know what my friends in Russia tell me about Jelavich, but he doesn’t let his employees resign. I think you’ll understand that she was doing something most important for him.”
“I don’t understand that at all, Peter. Enlighten me; what was so valuable that he would kill someone else looking for it?”
“I’m not at liberty to say. I have the remaining White aristocracy to consider. But, I will tell you this, it’s already cost many lives, some over ninety years ago.” Peter was thinking mostly about all the Russian guards on the train protecting Kolchak’s shipment.
The man was consistent; he’d said the same thing on the phone and now flown to Michigan without anything concrete to follow. He had to be telling the truth, as much as he could. Jim had checked quickly online to find the Line of succession to the Russian throne and found that the current “Pretender” remained open to debate, but Peter was mentioned above all others. He was telling the truth. “Peter, from what you’ve said, and I’ve seen, and the murders here, I believe as you said, that this Jelavich is very dangerous. If he’s operating in this county, I’m worried for several people.”
“Jim, the man is ruthless, he’s an amoral killer. It goes back to his youth. The man has no code or conscience and places no value on human life. If the missing Army shipment is here, he will find it, even if he kills everyone in the area to find it.”
Jim paused to reflect. He had no authority to represent Kiki or the Albrechts, but he didn’t want them hurt either. “Look, Peter. I may have some ideas where the shipment could be located.”
Peter’s animation betrayed his enthusiasm, “So there is a shipment!”
“Let’s just leave it hypothetical for the moment. I can’t say for sure we’re talking about the same thing.” Honesty seemed appropriate. “If it exists, and I emphasize IF, it won’t be easy to deal with. It will be hard to manage privately or publically, especially if this guy Jelavich is as bad as I think.”
“Oh, believe me; he’s at least that bad.”
“Okay, here’s the deal. You and whomever you brought along as friends should find a hotel. This will take some time. I’ll try to get back to you by this evening with some more information.”
“Fair enough, Jim. And again, let me emphasize that money isn’t my primary concern. If we get what we’re looking for, it’s worth a lot.”
The men shook again and Jim left immediately. He called Kiki and Sibley about setting up a conference call at the Sheriff’s office in an hour. When that was done, he made some more calls.
Permission
By late that afternoon, everyone was in agreement: Kiki, Sibley and Jason. Jim had been convincing about vetting Peter Mikhailo
vich and had outlined a strategy to get the shipment out of Jackson, away from them all. He didn’t want anyone in danger anymore.
He called Peter’s number from his phone log, “Can we meet tonight?”
“Of course, where?”
“The safest place around is the County Sheriff’s office. We’ve got some interview rooms that are secure.”
They agreed to meet there in an hour, both men, alone, with no recording devices.
Jim met Peter at the door to avoid any processing delays. He looked into the darkened parking lot, and it appeared that someone was in the large dark car Peter had arrived in. “Friends?”
“They’re not really bodyguards if that’s what you mean. The driver is my son, and the other fellow is my wife’s brother. I bring them along mostly for company and for advice.”
“Can we keep our conversation confidential?” Jim was walking and talking toward a conference room near the front.
“They don’t know much; just that it’s something to do with my Russian heritage. Neither of them has heard much about it, and it’s pretty boring. To them it’s just pipe dreams. I just tell them it’s nothing important and they accept it.”
Jim smiled, “A nothing that caused you to charter a plane?”
“They know my eccentricities; they won’t inquire, and I won’t tell.”
Jim brought in decaf coffee for them both and closed the door. “Okay, Peter. What I’m about to tell you is very serious. People have been killed already looking
