The Frozen Circle

by Peter Watt

  The following morning Morgan drove to Hume City to speak with Gladys Harrison at the hospital. He was not interviewing her in an official capacity, as that had already been done by the first police on the scene.

  He was directed to her bedside where she lay against the pillows surrounded by vases of colourful flowers and sat down in a chair by her bed. ‘How are you feeling, Gladys?’ he asked with genuine concern in his voice.

  ‘Oh, I will be all right,’ she replied with a smile, although her head was still swathed in a great bandage. ‘It is at times such as this that you realise just how many friends you have,’ she said, touching a bloom in a vase on the cupboard next to her hospital bed.

  ‘Can you tell me what you remember of the attack on you?’ Morgan asked.

  ‘I remember that I had to go to the museum to collect the petty cash tin for our fundraising,’ Gladys replied. ‘I unlocked the door and it was dark inside. I think I saw the beam of a torch and when I turned on the lights to the office where we keep our cash tin I was shocked to see two figures standing in there. They both wore masks, like you see people wearing who are skiing. Balaclavas – that’s it,’ she exclaimed, remembering the name. ‘I was shocked and they seemed to be surprised by my appearance. The bigger of the two grabbed me and started to shake me. He was asking about Captain Larkin’s journal which you know I do not have. I told him so and it was then that I heard the voice of the second person asking if I did not have the journal, where would they find it. I remember it was a woman’s voice and that both of them had English accents. I think I said something like you can go to buggery … you must remember that I do not swear and will have to go to confession for saying what I did. Then I do not remember anything else after that until that lovely young policewoman came to my assistance and called the ambulance.’

  ‘You are a very brave woman, Gladys,’ Morgan said, reaching over to squeeze her hand. ‘I feel guilty about putting you in the situation but promise I will find whoever did this to you and arrest them.’

  Gladys returned the squeeze. ‘Don’t feel bad about what happened. It was not your fault and it is a bit exciting to think that we have people desperate to get hold of Captain Larkin’s journal. I bet that they are spies.’

  Morgan grimaced. The mention of spies was the last thing he wanted to hear but something did ring true in the elderly lady’s statement. At least the tourists packing up and leaving town was like draining a waterhole. What strange fish would be left in the empty pond in the next few days? And floundering fish are easy to catch.

  ‘Is there anything that I can do when I get back to Valley View?’ Morgan asked, rising from the chair.

  ‘Nothing, dear,’ Gladys replied. ‘If you could just drop in on my husband and make sure he has taken his medicine, that would be a good help.’

  ‘Promise I will,’ Morgan said.

  He returned to the police vehicle and dropped off at the busy Hume City station to pick up any departmental mail due to be sent out. It was also a good chance to swap gossip with the shift before setting out to return to Valley View. If it were true there were spies in town, Morgan mused, they would be Russian and English ones replaying some old Cold War game – but in a very innocuous theatre.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Archangel

  September 1919

  Although not totally convinced that Maria was who she said she was the White Russian commander treated both Joshua and Maria with respect. He had a small detachment of soldiers escort them to Archangel for Maria to prove her identity and Grigor was assigned to accompany them.

  Joshua could see Maria’s spirits soar when she sighted the golden-domed buildings. She took Joshua’s hand as they approached the city.

  ‘We will go to Archduke Basilevsky,’ Grigor said to Maria when the five soldiers escorting them entered the outskirts of the city.

  ‘Cousin Anton!’ Maria exclaimed. ‘He is safe.’ She turned to Joshua and explained that they were to be taken to a relative who would be able to confirm her identity.

  ‘Then you will be able to travel to England,’ Joshua replied.

  ‘We will be apart,’ she sighed. ‘I do not know what I would have done without you.’

  ‘I am a soldier and was doing my duty,’ Joshua shrugged, casually attempting to conceal his pain at losing her. ‘Nothing more.’

  He slipped the belt containing the fortune in gems from under his coat and passed it to Maria. ‘Your dowry,’ he said. ‘The only reward I need is just enough to spend in the first bar I find in Archangel.’

  ‘When I am in England I will ensure that you are truly rewarded for helping me,’ Maria said, retrieving a handful of coins from the belt and passing them to him.

  ‘That’s more than enough for me to drink until 1930,’ Joshua said, eyeing the pile of gold coins in his hand. From the corner of his eye he could see the awed expression on Grigor’s face. ‘Make sure that the Princess Maria is kept safe,’ he said to Grigor. ‘I guess that the future of Russia may lay in her hands.’

  Grigor nodded his understanding. Unlike his commander he was sure that the pretty young woman was in fact the Princess Maria and was proud to be of assistance to a member of the royal family.

  ‘Well, I guess we part here,’ Joshua said.

  ‘What will you do now?’ Maria asked.

  ‘Have a drink then report back to my regiment,’ Joshua replied. ‘I guess there will be a lot of people who will want to talk to me.’

  ‘I will always remember you in my prayers, Joshua Larkin,’ Maria said, trying to force back the tears welling in her eyes. ‘I will never forget you.’

  Deep inside him, Joshua felt a pain that brought back memories of losing his wife. It was as if he was losing Maria in the same way.

  ‘I would like to have a drink with you, Sergeant Larkin,’ Grigor said. ‘Where you go?’

  ‘Do you know the bar near the big church?’

  ‘Da, I know,’ Grigor answered. ‘I see you there when Princess go to the Archduke house.’

  ‘Good luck,’ Joshua said in parting and turned to walk away. Maria had tears in her eyes, but he did not look back and continued walking until he was at the end of the street. He turned a corner, passing soldiers wearing the uniforms of many Allied countries. Limbered guns passed him on their way to the shrinking front around the city and columns of troops marched towards the wharves. They hardly paid any attention to the dirty, unshaven civilian they passed. Joshua was acutely aware that he would have to keep an eye out for the red-capped military police who patrolled the streets in search of deserters. But the need to have a drink and wash away the last few weeks from his life over-rode the fear of the provosts.

  He found a bar that he and George used to frequent when on leave in the city. It was filled with the uniforms of Canadians, Yanks and Italians. Alcohol flowed and the raucous voices of men celebrating the impending evacuation from Russia filled the smoky room. Joshua pushed his way to the bar and ordered an English beer from a hard-faced Russian whose knowledge of English was limited to demanding payment for the product he sold. Joshua handed over a coin and gulped down the beer. It tasted good and he settled in to drink some more, refusing to allow the thoughts of Maria to haunt him.

  Joshua had his head down on a wooden bench in the bar when he felt his shoulder being shaken.

  ‘Sergeant Larkin, wake up.’

  Joshua lifted his head to focus on Grigor standing over him with an expression of deep concern. ‘Was up?’ he asked.

  ‘The Princess Maria, I think she in trouble,’ Grigor replied.

  Joshua attempted to shake off the effect of the three bottles of English beer. He was not drunk but still felt the effects of the alcohol.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Joshua asked, rising to his feet.

  ‘We take her to the archduke,’ Grigor replied. ‘He tell us we must fetch English soldiers. He lock the princess in his house.’

  ‘Has anyone gone for the British?’ Joshua asked.

  ‘Da
, the corporal go for to tell the British. I make excuse and come here to fetch you.’

  Joshua wiped his face with his hand, cursing the fact that he had not seen the predicament coming. It was obvious that there were Russians who had a reason to betray Maria. But why this one? After all, the man was her blood relative.

  ‘Come on, Grigor,’ Joshua said. ‘Take me to the archduke’s house.’

  The two men left the bar and hurried along the street with Grigor leading, trailing his rifle. Joshua instinctively felt for the revolver in his coat and was reassured by its presence. He had no idea what he would do when he reached the house but knew that he had to have a plan.

  ‘How many people does the archduke have?’ Joshua asked Grigor.

  ‘Archduke has personal staff. Servants. I know not how many,’ Grigor said.

  ‘Are they armed?’ Joshua asked.

  ‘I do not know,’ Grigor replied. ‘But I think he has guns. All nobles have guns.’

  When they stood before the magnificent house, Joshua scanned the imposing building. It opened onto the street and the great wood-panelled front door was closed. No doubt locked, he guessed.

  ‘You need to tell the archduke that I am an agent from the British HQ.’ Grigor gave him a doubtful look – not surprising, considering the dishevelled appearance of the Australian sergeant.

  ‘I think this not work,’ he replied.

  ‘Just give it a go,’ Joshua answered, slipping the pistol into his hand and holding it behind his back. They were lucky as the street was deserted and there would be no witnesses.

  ‘Okay,’ Grigor shrugged and knocked on the door.

  A voice answered from inside and Joshua listened as Grigor exchanged words with whoever was behind the door.

  ‘Servant open door to us,’ he whispered from the corner of his mouth.

  Joshua nodded, bracing himself as the door creaked open slightly. Joshua threw himself at the door, forcing it wide and crashed past the startled servant, a man in his old age. Grigor followed.

  ‘Ask him where the Princess Maria is?’ Joshua said, pointing his revolver at the terrified man’s head.

  ‘He say she upstairs with archduke.’

  Joshua glanced across the ornate marble-floored room to a magnificent staircase. He was halfway up when he was confronted by a tall man wearing an expensive tailored suit. From his arrogant, aristocratic demeanour Joshua guessed that this must be the archduke. He shouted something in Russian and Joshua noticed Grigor bring up his rifle to cover the man.

  ‘Do you speak English?’ Joshua demanded, covering him with his gun.

  The man shook his head and Joshua asked the same question in French.

  ‘I speak French,’ the man answered coldly. ‘I am the Archduke Basilevsky and you have no right to break into my home with weapons. You will pay for your impertinence.’

  ‘Where is the Princess Maria?’ Joshua asked. ‘And I don’t have time to listen to any lies because I think I am getting a hangover, and that makes me dangerous.’

  The archduke glared at Joshua contemptuously, turned his back and commenced to walk up the stairs as if dismissing him. Joshua fired once and saw the Russian collapse. The bullet had struck him in the lower leg as Joshua intended.

  ‘The next one will be in your head,’ Joshua spat, standing over the Russian noble. ‘Your choice.’

  The archduke glared up at Joshua with pure hate. ‘You will pay dearly for this,’ he gasped, the pain biting at his leg from the wound.

  ‘One more time,’ Joshua said, placing the tip of the barrel against the man’s head. ‘Where is the princess?’

  For a moment their eyes locked and the Russian noble considered the possibilities of the threat. But what he saw in the Australian soldier’s eyes was frightening and he knew he had no choice. ‘She is in the bedroom at the top of the stairs.’

  ‘Why were you about to betray her to the English?’ Joshua asked.

  ‘Because they will assist me to settle in England if I hand her over,’ he said. ‘The Bolsheviks will rule this country and anyone such as myself will be executed if I remain.’

  An idea crept into Joshua thoughts. ‘Where is the treasure that the princess had with her?’

  The question startled the archduke. ‘It is safe in my keeping,’ he replied, knowing that the mad man with the gun at his head was capable of killing him on a whim.

  ‘Grigor,’ Joshua said. ‘The archduke is going to take you to fetch something. Go with him.’

  Turning to the nobleman Joshua explained how the soldier would help him to retrieve the small fortune in gems. Grigor slung his rifle and helped the archduke to his feet. Assisting him up the stairs, Grigor was led to a room at the end of a long hall. Once they were out of sight Joshua knocked on the door where the wounded Russian had said he would find Maria. When the door opened Joshua was stunned to see Maria wearing a lavish dress that gave her the regal appearance she was due.

  ‘Joshua!’ she gasped in her surprise, her eyes wide with happiness. ‘I thought that I heard a gunshot. The duke has forbidden me to leave his house and has taken all my possessions. I do not understand what is happening.’

  Joshua stepped inside the room. ‘Your cousin was about to hand you over to the British and steal your family treasure. It appears that Major Locksley was right when he ordered me to kill you. For some reason the British do not want you to live.’

  The shock registered on Maria’s face. ‘But the king of England is a relative,’ she said. ‘How could he want me dead?’

  ‘And your cousin is the archduke and was about to help the English get rid of you. This place is crawling with dirty deeds. We are going to get you out of Russia somehow and maybe to France. Grigor is at the moment retrieving your jewellery.’

  Without questioning Joshua, Maria followed him from the room. They were met by Grigor holding up the linen belt in one hand and the Russian noble in the other.

  ‘I have the thing you wanted,’ Grigor said triumphantly.

  ‘Good,’ Joshua answered, taking the belt from him. ‘Now, all we have to do is get out of here before the British arrive.’

  ‘You will not get far,’ the archduke snarled. ‘The city is crawling with patrols.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Joshua shrugged. ‘But so was the countryside and we survived that.’

  ‘You cannot go with this man,’ Basilevsky said to Maria. ‘He is a commoner who wants to steal your inheritance.’

  ‘No, cousin,’ Maria answered sadly. ‘It is you who I cannot trust. You would betray me – your own flesh and blood.’

  The Russian nobleman fell silent.

  ‘What do we do with him?’ Grigor asked, with some apprehension.

  ‘Well, he isn’t going to run after us,’ Joshua said. ‘We will let him live. It’s time to get out of here.’

  ‘Where can we go?’ Maria asked. ‘It is not safe anywhere in the city.’

  ‘First, all we have to do is get out of this house and find a place to hole up. I suggest that you change back into your travelling garb. You are going to have to look like a peasant girl again.’

  Maria nodded and ducked back into the room while Joshua and Grigor waited anxiously; any time now they could be disturbed by the arrival of a British patrol assigned to detain Maria. But she was quick and appeared at the top of the stairs in her old peasant dress.

  The three made their way to the street, leaving the wounded Russian nobleman at the top of the stairs. When they were in front of the house, Grigor spoke. ‘I think I know where we can go and be safe for now. I spend my early years growing up here. I have friend who has bookshop not far from here. He can help.’

  Joshua slapped Grigor on the shoulder gratefully. ‘Thanks, old cobber.’

  Grigor beamed. ‘I no hear that since Australia,’ he said. ‘You my cobber.’

  They hurried down the street until they reached a thoroughfare bustling with crowds of troops and Russian civilians streaming into the city as refugees from the advancing Re
d Army. There, they were able to lose themselves in the parade of people. Joshua did not have a plan beyond following Grigor to the safe house. All he knew was that he was with Maria again and that he loved her more than even his own life.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Valley View

  Present day

  ‘The car was parked over here,’ Detective Senior Sergeant Ken Barber said, standing at the edge of a paddock beside the community hall. ‘No lighting and easy for someone to slip under and do some mischief without being noticed. But no tyre tracks or shoe prints that we can see.’

  Morgan stood beside him taking in the sweep of flattened grass, a legacy of many feet and car tyres crushing the open area during the folk festival.

  ‘I asked around among the locals but they didn’t see anything on the night.’

  ‘Bloody investigation going nowhere,’ Barber growled, shaking his head. ‘What about any potential witnesses to the bash and rob at the museum. Do you have anyone among your locals good for the job?’

  ‘Not really,’ Morgan answered.

  ‘What do you know?’ Barber asked, turning to Morgan.

  ‘That I was born and will pay taxes until I die,’ Morgan answered. ‘Other than that all I know is that we have a GBH and the probable murder of a car thief.’

  ‘Well, I will leave it with you,’ Ken Barber said, turning to walk back to his car. ‘Probably the most exciting things to happen in this town, since that apparent double murder in 1920, if you ask me.’

  Morgan watched the big detective stride away, pondering the detective’s parting words. He had an eerie feeling that the discovery of the skeletons had indeed unleashed weird events in the present time. He was sure that there was a link between what had happened so long ago and the events of now, although he would be at a loss to explain why. But when he put little bits together he had an unconfirmed, direct descendant of Princess Maria living in the same house as her great-grandmother had. He had also seen the journal with damning statements about the role of the British authorities in a conspiracy to kill the sole survivor of the Russian royal family, and documents that could possibly prove the authenticity of what the late Captain Joshua Larkin wrote in his journal. Morgan well knew that courts of law required the primary source and not photocopies as evidence. So as long as the journal and documents remained out of legal hands nothing could be proved. But if the documents did become public property they could seriously rewrite history in a way not very flattering to the British government of the time.