Deadlock

by Iris Johansen

  I will go to Nartova. The political situation may be just what I need to pressure him. The Bolsheviks are howling for blood, but it will not be mine.

  Emily thought it was the last entry, but she flipped the pages and found two more. Both were decades from the time of the massacre.

  July 25, 1932

  It is no use. I've gone back many times, but I cannot Jind a way to get that hammer out of the museum. I've tried everything from bribery to hiring thugs to help me attack the guards who watch over the mu¬seum. No one will take my bribes, and it's ridiculous how heavily the museum is guarded. I've been foiled twice when I made the attempt to kill them and get into the exhibition hall. It's just a poor, unim¬portant historical museum. Why should it be so well guarded? I sus¬pect Nartova. He is clever enough to find ways to manipulate the government even if he has little power. He is standing guard over the hammer like a giant gargoyle.

  It is of no matter. I still have my grand palace and I'm almost as rich as if I'd found the Tsar's billions. Nartova still pays into my cof¬fers regularly. I may up the payments to punish him for thwarting me.

  May 24, 1942

  I have started to dream of Rasputin. Are they death dreams? I will not permit it. I will live a long time, and if I meet Rasputin in hell, I will still be his master. I will hold the hammer over his head, and he will cringe and kneel before me.

  Emily closed the book. "He died in 1943. Maybe he was being haunted by Rasputin during those last years." Her lips twisted. "I won't believe it was conscience. I don't think he had one."

  "Neither do I." Garrett got up and poured a cup of coffee. "But he died a rich man and years after the massacre, this Nartova was still funneling money to him." He brought the cup to her. "The question is who was Nartova? And how did Zelov convince him that he'd man¬aged to hide the amulet in the hammer? Or was it blackmail that Nar¬tova was paying Zelov?"

  Emily rubbed her temple, then took the cup. "I have no clue. I was hoping that we'd be able to put a period to Zelov's part in this. Lord, I want to get away from Mikhail Zelov."

  He shook his head. "We're not going to do it. He's the center, like the eye of the hurricane."

  "And Nicholas Zelov must have known who this Nartova was be¬fore he came to Russia. That has to be why Joslyn paid him off." She shook her head. "But why in hell would hush money still be paid in this day and age for something that happened in 1918?"

  He shrugged. "Why don't we ask Mr. Joslyn?"

  "But Nicholas Zelov went to see Bishop Dimitri first. We might get more information by going to him." She shook her head. "We'll talk to Irana in the morning and see what she thinks."

  "MIKHAIL ZELOV WAS TRULY from Satan." Irana finished read¬ing the notes and looked up at Emily and Garrett, who were sitting at breakfast at the room-service table across the room. "And I'm sure he's with him now. Is there anything else?"

  "Just a translation of his Book of Living," Emily said. "I scanned it, but then went right to the notes." She grimaced. "I don't think you'll want to read it. Total debauchery. Total permissiveness. Whatever you want, you take. Sexual intercourse with small children and any woman who crosses your path. It's no wonder that Rasputin was drawn to it."

  "But Rasputin tried to pull away from Zelov toward the end," Irana said. "I think I do want to read it."

  "Be my guest," Emily said. "Keep my copy. Garrett has one if we need it."

  "By all means," Garrett said. "But what we wanted from you were any ideas you might have as to why Nicholas Zelov went first to a revered bishop of the Church before he went to Joslyn?"

  Irana stared down at the book. "I have a few thoughts on the sub¬ject. Let me go over what we know so that I can get it clear in my head. I'm not as familiar with this as you are." She tapped one finger on the book. "Mikhail Zelov was instrumental in the assassination of the royal family for the purpose of stealing the three amulets from the grand duchesses. The fourth amulet was supposedly hidden in the hammer he provided to the Tsar. The Tsar hid the hammer in a Soviet museum near the execution house. Zelov was unable to retrieve it." She frowned. "But Zelov felt confident that he could get money from Nartova and that the hammer would stay safely in that museum so that he might be able to get it later. He was right. In all those years, Nartova didn't try to get the hammer for himself. He obviously wanted that hammer to stay in the museum."

  "But why?" Emily asked. "And who the hell is Nartova?"

  "I don't know why," Irana said. "But I believe you'll find that the man who was supporting Mikhail Zelov all those years was Bishop Sergai Nartova. The time frame is right."

  "Another bishop?" Garrett asked. "Mikhail Zelov hated the Church."

  "That doesn't mean that he wouldn't try to use it," Irana said. "In fact, it's more likely that he'd do it."

  "You're sure that this Bishop Nartova could be the same man?"

  "No," Irana said. "But I've studied the period, and the Russian Church and Sergai Nartova definitely had the power to siphon off enough money to keep Zelov happy. He was regarded with great re¬spect and at one time was in line to be the Patriarch of all Russia. He refused, and said he was not worthy and would prefer to serve in a humbler position." She paused. "And after the Bolsheviks took over, he requested that he serve God and the Church here in Ekaterinaburg. It didn't please the new government since they were trying to make everyone forget what happened here."

  "But steal from the Church to make that bastard rich?" Emily asked. "That would make him as bad as Zelov."

  "It's definitely criminal. It must have been a very strong motive to keep him paying Zelov all those years. You say the payments stopped in 1943?" When Emily nodded, Irana said, "I'd have to check to be sure, but I think that's about the time that Nartova died. And since Zelov died shortly after the payments ended, no one learned anything about it."

  "Until Nicholas Zelov got money hungry over sixty years later and resurrected it," Garrett murmured. "So he went to Bishop Dimitri and either tried to stir up some mud about past criminal practices of the Church or offered the three amulets to him so that the bishop could complete the set with the one in the hammer."

  "It's guesswork," Irana said. "And I'd think that Nicholas Zelov might try to get the hammer for himself to try for the Tsar's billions."

  "Too difficult," Emily said. "He's an alcoholic, and he obviously likes the easy way. That was why the steady flow of money appealed to him. He gave Babin the Book of Living and the amulets and went his way with his pockets lined." She glanced at Garrett. "But Babin was hired by Joslyn, not this Bishop Dimitri. Joslyn's got to be up to his ears in all this mess."

  "Because you'd rather he be the bad guy than Bishop Dimitri," Gar¬rett said. "They both may be scum. Money does corrupt, Emily."

  "I know that." It was true that she didn't want a man of the cloth to be involved in this ugliness. There were so few holy or pure things to cling to in this world. "You believe that Bishop Dimitri contacted Joslyn and they became partners?"

  "It's reasonable," Garrett said. "Joslyn had the money, and I don't see how the Bishop could provide Nicholas Zelov with the cash he wanted. Nartova was able to do it with old Mikhail Zelov because it was a different world, and he wielded power in the Church. These days ac¬countants scrutinize everything." He shook his head. "No, Joslyn had to be involved."

  "I'm more interested in what the Church had to do with this." Irana was already glancing through the book. "I think I should get to know more about Zelov and his relationship with it."

  "I know all I want to know about him." Emily shuddered. "I keep thinking how much like Staunton Zelov is. It seems strange that two such evil men born in different generations would both be drawn by the same lure."

  "Maybe not so strange." Irana didn't look up from the book. "Sometimes I think that if the evil is strong enough, it takes on a life of its own."

  "Reincarnation?"

  She shrugged. "I think anything is possible in God's world. But that wasn't what I meant."

  "Good
. I'd hate to think there could be a constant string of Stauntons emerging in every generation." She turned to Garrett. "When are we phoning Joslyn?"

  He shook his head. "Soon. But maybe we should do as you sug¬gested and go to see Bishop Dimitri first."

  "No, let me," Irana said suddenly. "Isn't that why you brought me here?"

  "But I didn't think the bishop was actually a conspirator then," Garrett said.

  "It doesn't change anything. I speak the language and I have the background. I want to do it." Garrett shook his head.

  "Stop protecting me, Garrett. I will do it," Irana said. "I should do it."

  Her tone was totally, almost passionately, determined. Emily re¬membered the chill she had felt when Irana had told her that it was meant that she come here.

  Irana glanced at Emily as if she had read her mind. "Stop worry¬ing." She smiled. "After all, isn't it true that I'm the best qualified? I will meet him at his residency in full daylight. Nothing will happen." She got to her feet. "Now I will finish getting dressed and call Bishop Dimitri."

  "He may not see you," Emily said.

  "I believe he will see me." She headed for the bathroom. "In fact, I'm quite sure he will see me."

  "I suppose God told you he would?" Emily asked. "Heavens no. It's just a feeling. We all have these feelings occa¬sionally."

  "Why don't I go with you?"

  She chuckled. "My feelings say no. It will be fine, Emily." She disappeared into the bathroom.

  "I don't want her to go alone," Emily said. "Why won't she lis¬ten?"

  "Maybe she objects to you trying to protect her. I've heard inde¬pendent women have a tendency to violently resent it." "That's not amusing."

  "I know. It's a big problem." He reached out and took her hand. "I'm not going to let her go see the bishop without protection. She'd object to me going, but I'll have Dardon drive her and stay close."

  Relief rushed through her. "I know she's right, and visiting the bishop shouldn't be-I just don't like the idea."

  "You have a 'feeling'?"

  She nodded. "Dardon won't let her out of his sight?" He nodded. "And I know that won't be enough for you, so we'll be parked in a car two blocks away, just in case."

  She didn't speak for a moment. "Irana won't like it." "Will that stop you?" "Hell, no," Emily said.

  "Great." He grinned. "It will give me fuel for future discussions on the subject of protective interference." He got up and moved to¬ward the door. "I'll go talk to Dardon."

  BISHOP DIMITRI LEANED BACK in his leather chair after he had hung up the phone. Why had he consented to see Irana Povak? She had given him a brief description of herself and her background, but just because she had mentioned Emily Hudson should not have made him halt his objection and agree. Perhaps he should have refused and let his housekeeper turn her away if she appeared on his doorstep. It would have been prudent. It would have been safer.

  But he didn't want to be safe any longer, he thought wearily. His soul was sick to death of protecting himself when he was not impor¬tant. Who knew what was right or wrong? All his life he had been cer¬tain of his judgment and his creed. Where had that certainty gone? Why had he stepped beyond those borders?

  He slowly reached out and dialed Peter Joslyn. "I've agreed to see Irana Povak. She says she is a friend of Emily Hudson."

  "I know who she is," Joslyn said. "Staunton told me. It's a mistake to see her, Dimitri."

  "I wanted you to tell me that. I wanted an excuse to turn her away." He looked out the window at the red roses blooming in the garden. It was too late for roses, but Joslyn had given him a hardy variety that bloomed several times a year. "And when a man looks for excuses, it usually means he's wrong." He paused. "Are we wrong, Peter?"

  Silence. "I don't know. We probably are wrong. But we can't go back."

  "No, we can't go back." It was too late. Too much had happened. Too many lives had been lost. "But perhaps we can make peace."

  "I don't like the sound of that. Look, I'm on my way over. Don't talk to anyone until I get there."

  "Only Irana Povak. I've been sitting here and gazing out at the beautiful roses that you gave me and wondering why I gave her per¬mission to come. Do you know what I decided? Sometimes God sends a messenger, and if we're wise, we don't shut him out. Perhaps I felt that this woman was my messenger."

  "Dimitri, you're just tired and discouraged. Let's talk, and we can come-"

  "You're right, I'm tired. And I'm feeling very old today." He rose to his feet. "I'm going out to my rose garden and sit in the sunshine and wait for Irana Povak."

  "Don't see her," Joslyn said quickly. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Put her off. Don't do anything that-"

  "Good-bye, Peter." He hung up, then turned off his phone. He moved toward the French doors that led to the garden. The sun was beckoning and he knew that the heady scent of the roses would sur¬round that bench near the fountain. His housekeeper would show Irana Povak to the garden when she arrived.

  Come, messenger. Cleanse my soul.

  THE RESIDENCY WAS A LARGE brick building on the outskirts of Ekaterinaburg surrounded by several equally-prestigious-appearing buildings. Irana gazed out the window at the wide arched windows and heavy mahogany door as Dardon pulled over to the curb in front of it. "Very impressive," she murmured as she opened the passenger door. "Okay, Dardon, go away."

  "Nope. I have to stay with you. Orders."

  "And my orders are for you to either go away or wait here." She moved toward the door. "I don't want you getting in my way."

  "What difference does it make if I come with you? I'll keep my mouth shut."

  She didn't know why she was being insistent. She was operating on instinct alone. "It will make a difference. Stay here." She climbed the three steps to the front door alcove. "I'm sure that Garrett and Emily will consider that close enough."

  "You're wrong, Irana," Emily said as she came around the corner. She held up her hand as Irana opened her lips. "Garrett said that we should wait a block away so that you wouldn't be annoyed with us. I thought about it and decided that I don't care if you're annoyed. You and Garrett have done whatever you thought best for me since the moment we met. Why shouldn't I do the same? I'll give you your space. I'll sit in the anteroom while you have your talk with Bishop Dimitri, but I'm going to be a hell of a lot closer than a block away."

  Irana gazed at her a moment, then smiled. "I'd have to knock you out to keep you from coming with me, wouldn't I?"

  "If you think you're tough enough."

  "I'm tough enough, but it's hard to overcome the power of affec¬tion with force. It gets too complicated." She reached out to ring the doorbell. "And it warms my heart that you care for me. But I truly think that I'll get more information if I'm alone with the bishop. When I spoke to him on the phone, I got the vague impression that he wants to-" She shrugged. She wasn't sure she could describe what she had felt in that moment when she had heard Bishop Dimitri's voice on the phone. "So you may guard me from a very respectable distance. Understand?"

  "I didn't expect anything else. I just didn't want you to be alone."

  "I'm not alone." She pressed the doorbell. "Ever since I decided to come here, I knew I wasn't alone." Her face lit with her warm smile. "And now I have you, too."

  NINETEEN

  BISHOP DIMITRI WAS OLDER than he had sounded on the phone, Irana thought as she walked down the path toward him. His hair was snow-white, and his brown eyes indented with deep lines. He was staring thoughtfully, almost dreamily, into the waters of the fountain.

  He looked up and smiled. "I've been waiting for you." He studied her face and nodded. "Yes, it's you I've been waiting for. Sit down, child."

  "I'm not a child, Bishop Dimitri."

  "You are to me. I've reached my eightieth year. Not that age mat¬ters. The soul is eternal." His smiled faded. "But if the soul is weighed down, it can't seem to see eternity. You understand that, don't you?"

  "Yes, I understand that."
>
  "I thought so. A messenger would sense many things."

  "Messenger?" Irana shook her head. "I'm not a child, I'm not a messenger. I've only come to ask you a few questions."

  "I know." He gazed at the roses across the path. "And I will answer. Do you know there are millions of children in this world that live in garbage and dung and never see a flower? How sad that is."

  "I wish to ask you about Nicholas Zelov and what he said to you when he came to visit you."

  "I believe you probably know a good deal, or you wouldn't be here."

  "We think he offered you three amulets and Mikhail Zelov's book… for a price."

  "That's true. But I didn't have his price." "So you involved Peter Joslyn?"

  He nodded. "To my infinite regret. I saw no other way. Nicholas Zelov was not a good man. Greed would have goaded him to go to someone else, perhaps even the government. I couldn't allow that."

  "And when you couldn't retrieve the hammer that contained the final amulet, Joslyn turned Staunton loose to get it back."

  He flinched. "It wasn't Peter's fault. He didn't know what kind of man Babin had hired until recently. He only did as I asked. I had to get the hammer. I thought it my duty."

  "Duty?"

  "To my friend, to the man whom I respected more than anyone in my life. I didn't want all his work and sacrifice to go for nothing."

  She studied his face. "Bishop Sergai Nartova?"

  He nodded. "He was my idol. He was the reason I entered the church. He was as close to being a saint as man can be."

  "Saint? You knew he stole from the Church?"

  "He had to make a choice. As long as he paid off Mikhail Zelov, then Zelov would be satisfied to stay away and not try for the ham¬mer. If he didn't have the final amulet, then he couldn't go after the Tsar's treasure." He shook his head. "He couldn't be permitted to have that kind of power. He would have been Satan on earth."