Bloody Sunset

by Bloody Sunset (retail) (epub)

  She shrugged. ‘I had no choice. Really, none… But we got off the track, somehow, I was asking about your upbringing in Petrograd. St Petersburg if you like. How did your father come to be there, and to marry a Russian woman?’

  It was a question that took some time to answer. Trawler-man’s grandson, trader’s son, explaining his origins to a princess whose family and ancestors would never have had anything to do with trade in any shape or form. But taking pleasure in the description of his father: the old man’s warmth, and the strength behind that warmth.

  She’d smiled. ‘That’s where it comes from, then.’

  ‘Oh, no. I may be a chip off the old block, but no more than a chip.’

  ‘I’d have liked to have known him.’

  ‘I wish you had. He’d have loved you.’

  The statement – low-pitched, they’d been talking quietly so as not to disturb the others – hung in the air between them, in a silence. Nadia’s wide, grey eyes on his: as intent as if she was trying to read his mind. Leaning over, then, a hand for balance on his shoulder as she touched his lips with hers and whispered ‘Meeting you was the next best thing.’

  * * *

  Waking, talking, going back to sleep. Sleep was as good a use of the time as anything, Bob thought. The Czechs came from the next-door hut, chatted, crept away again. He would have liked to have talked more with Nadia, but Nick’s presence inhibited it. While Irina’s chatter in turn embarrassed Nick: it was so clearly aimed at establishing her possession of him as her brother – constant references to childhood experiences, their parents, mutual friends – invariably subjects that excluded Nadia. Bob of course was right out of all this; he dozed off from time to time, and even in sleep or half-sleep was thinking constantly about the skiff, and their lack of options.

  With this change in the weather, total lack.

  He broke in – into a pause in Irina’s gabbling – ‘Nick – all of you, really – there’s something we have to talk about very seriously. I’m sorry, but—’

  ‘Of course—’ Irina had glanced at him very briefly, and decided to ignore the interruption. Looking back at her brother, picking up the threads of whatever she’d been on about… ‘— until she came to find me in Petrograd – as you know, intending to take me to the Crimea – Mama hardly knew Nadia at all. You’d met her once, I think – and she knew your parents, of course, but—’

  ‘You’re right, we hardly knew each other.’ Nadia looked at Bob. ‘What’s this serious thing?’

  ‘But you did become great friends, by the end… Oh, that dreadful train journey!’

  ‘Yes. Yes, it was…’

  ‘Wasn’t it the most terrific luck that we met that charming Captain Dherjakin?’ A glance at Bob. ‘I’m not sure if I told you about him, Bob. I know I was going to – he’s a naval captain, you see.’

  ‘You did mention him, I think. A naval engineer captain with only one leg.’

  ‘Nadia, wasn’t he an angel in disguise?’

  ‘He certainly got us out of an awkward spot.’ Nadia was looking at Bob apologetically. But it was easier to get this over, let Irina talk while she felt she had to. She’d mentioned some such individual on the night that he and Nick had got to them. But that wasn’t stopping her telling them again now: ‘Engineer Captain Sergei Dherjakin. He was coming down here from Moscow, to some new command, somewhere near – did he say it was near Krasni-Yar, Nadia?’

  ‘Yes. Now you mention it.’

  Bob put in – a bell ringing at the name of that village, Krasni-Yar, but sticking to what he’d been about to say – ‘Didn’t you tell us he was in charge of some dockyard up there?’

  ‘Yes – he had been—’

  ‘There aren’t any dockyards in Moscow. And those in the north – Archangelsk and Murmansk – are in White hands. British forces there now too.’

  ‘Well – the fact remains, he’d been sent down from Moscow to take command of this new base. Military supply base, I think he called it. And he was so kind to us. Quite extraordinary, really, this senior officer – he’d had this high rank in the Imperial Navy, obviously – working for the Bolsheviks now because they’d somehow forced him to, and using his position to befriend us! I think he had an eye for Mama, to be absolutely frank… Well, he’d be – you know, middle forties, that sort of age. But honestly, when the train was stopped by Red Guards, and they were demanding everyone’s papers, dragging people off – God, we were terrified – I was, anyway…’

  ‘This Dherjakin person vouched for us.’ Nadia told Bob, cutting the story short, ‘He showed the commander of the Red Guards his own papers, and whatever his background he certainly had – influence… What were you going to say, Bob?’

  He nodded. Getting it together in his mind. In its briefest, most brutal form it would have been We have no way out.

  But there had to be. Hesitating, he looked back at Irina. ‘You did say a military supply base, and near Krasni-Yar?’

  ‘Yes. And that dockyard business – all I can say for certain is he was no Bolshevik – definitely not. But they needed his technical ability and experience, I suppose they don’t have many such highly qualified men, and – I don’t know, I guessed at either blackmail or his family held hostage – he made a joke, that a man with a wooden leg couldn’t run away.’

  ‘I remember, you told us. But you didn’t mention any military supply base – or Krasni-Yar…’ Looking at the Count. ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Nick?’

  ‘That place where we ran into the chain?’

  ‘Exactly!’

  There was a silence. The three of them watching him. Nick said, looking mystified, ‘It’s confirmation of what you guessed, I see that. You thought it might be a military stores depot – in support of their move against Guriev…’

  ‘Bob – if there’s something we have to hear about…’

  ‘Yes. Sorry. Thing is, this might – change it, rather.’ Gazing at her: with the idea forming. A hope, a long-shot chance. Probably madness even to consider it: giving it even this much consideration was – straw-clutching… But what a straw – coming at just this moment, you might call it God-given.

  And that was the nature of floating straws, surely, what the concept of straws to clutch at was about. When there was nothing else – except a dead-end, and worse. And – this much looked like sound reasoning – that it was highly unlikely there could be more than one new military supply base near Krasni-Yar…

  ‘Listen. I’ll tell you what I was going to tell you, first. What it boils down to is we don’t have any way off that coast once we get there. Really – none, we’re stuck. Take a look out there, Nick – and imagine six of us in that skiff. In good weather it’d be bad enough—’

  Nadia chipped in, ‘What exactly is a skiff?’

  ‘Rowing-boat – about the size of the boat we came across in, but a bit narrower.’

  ‘But – Bob, the weather might—’

  ‘And might not. Listen – up to about three minutes ago the skiff was all we had. The only reason for even considering it was we didn’t have any alternative. You know that, you’ve known it all along, so don’t pretend I’m springing anything new on you… But that’s how it was. Until – well, look, I know this is as chancy as hell. But we know where that base is – right? And there are ships there – tugs, I saw them – that we could get away in, if we could steal one…’

  16

  Trundling eastward – approaching Sasykolsk. It couldn’t be by-passed, one had to take the risk of the van being recognized.

  The up-gradient eased to more level going, and he changed down – not exactly adept yet with the rather quirky gearbox, but getting some relief then, less of a scream from the straining engine. Should have taken the lorry, maybe… Yellow headlamp beams quivered on the pitted road, and the wheel in his hands felt like a steamhammer. Entering the village now. A few lights here and there… Corner coming up: then there’d be a second turn where the shade-tree was, where the lorry had
been parked.

  Nick Solovyev was beside him, nursing fears. Getting over them, please God. He hadn’t spoken since they’d left the fishing-station a quarter of an hour ago. Bob had been backing the van out of the barn – no lights on, hadn’t switched them on until they’d got up to the road – and the Czech sergeant had been waiting to shut and lock the door before joining the orang-utan and the two girls in the back; Nick had burst out with ‘This is mad, Bob, there’s no chance we’ll get away with it!’

  ‘Then we’re all dead.’ He’d put his hand out of the window, taking the barn key from Krebst. ‘Well done. Hop in.’ Then, up on the road and switching the lights on, relieved at having got that far without any confrontation with the lorry-driver, he’d turned to him: ‘Come on, Nick. You were all right an hour ago… Look, remember how you lectured me, down on that bog, about playing a part, believing in the role you’re playing, being it? Nick – I’m not being rude, you were offended last time I mentioned it but it’s just plain fact – you’ve had your nerve shaken. But you’re the same man and you’re more than capable of this. Look how brilliantly you acted at the shop where we bought my gear – and on that platform…’

  Silence.

  Or rather, no response. The word silence hardly applied, crashing and clattering along in this old conveyance. Heading south, with about forty miles to Selitrenoe: then fifty to Seitovka. Names evocative of what by now could have been a distant past… In the back, the girls had the option of sitting on empty wooden crates that had been in the back of the barn, or on the metal floor and using them as backrests. Neither position would be exactly comfortable, those surfaces were all extremely hard. But the pair of them were better together than apart, there wouldn’t have been room for both of them and Nick in this cab, and he’d wanted to have Nick with him so they could talk, perhaps make adjustments to the plan – which couldn’t be detailed anyway, you were going to have to adjust to circumstances as you found them – and also so he, Bob, could try to keep him up to the mark.

  Earlier, they’d almost come to blows. Bob having challenged him with ‘Your nerve’s gone, has it?’

  One furious Count… Probably all the more so for knowing it was the truth. But he was the only one of them who’d stand any chance of pulling this off: and on his old form, he’d have walked it… He’d blustered, this afternoon, ‘I’m not stupid, that’s all!’

  ‘So what d’you suggest we do? Wait for the ice to form so we can walk home?’

  ‘You’re so amusing… And frankly, so idiotic, Bob, to think you could force your way into a guarded military base – naval, whatever it is – just because you happen to know the name of the commanding officer!’

  ‘You can’t have been listening, Nick. That name is the password, that’s all, it’s what will – should – open the gate for us. God, I’ve explained all this…’

  He’d explained it all several times over. A general idea more than a plan as such. Nick accepting it at times, then finding new reasons to reject it. Which hadn’t been so bad, had been productive in a way, elements of a plan emerging from the argument… For instance, the central issue of Captain Dherjakin, whether one could realistically expect to get to him personally…

  ‘He will respond, Nick. Because you’ll make it a personal issue – for his eyes only. And it’s not a very large establishment – you know, you saw it.’

  ‘Hardly. Very little.’

  ‘Well, I saw enough. And it only becomes operational in the spring – that’s not guesswork, with several months of ice ahead it’s useless until the thaw. So meanwhile it’s in being but at half-cock – minimal staffing, you can bet… All right, so they have a boom on the entrance and a guardship out in that channel – did have, anyway – and that mine-barrier – but those are obvious precautions. They know we could have got wind of it, and that there could be an attack on it from the sea, our own flotilla’s on their doorstep night and day and there’s also the Russian flotilla, the gunboats – anyone in his right mind would set up some defences. But what they would not be expecting is a ring on the front-door bell, so to speak.’

  ‘All speculation, Bob!’

  ‘Informed speculation. Probability. As far as the naval angles are concerned, I am a professional, you know.’

  ‘I thought you were a reservist.’

  ‘Professional seaman, with several years of war experience. Anyway – we aren’t talking about me – or you – we’re talking about all of us, including Nadia and your sister, and the point is we have to get out, get them out – what we’re here for, isn’t it? Unless you know any other way of doing it…’

  ‘The skiff—’

  ‘Christ, I’ve told you—’

  * * *

  The surface wasn’t too bad, along this stretch. The road followed the course of the river, which was in sight all the time and beautiful in the moonlight. Moon dipping down in the south-west, very close to setting, with a linked reflection of itself in the veil of thin cloud racing past it, a double-image creating the illusion of an elliptical moon, a teardrop moving at high speed.

  A lot more than one could say for this van. Not that one would have wanted to drive all that fast. For one thing, a vehicle being driven hard would tend to attract attention, and for another the van might have shaken itself apart.

  ‘All right, Nick?’

  He’d grunted. Then: ‘I’ll take a turn at the wheel, when you want a break.’

  ‘Ah… Well, how about after Selitrenoe?’

  ‘Whenever you like.’

  ‘It’s no Rolls-Royce, I’ll tell you that… Hope the girls aren’t too uncomfortable back there…’

  Nadia’s reaction, when she’d climbed into the back of this thing and tried out the seating arrangements – and noticed Irina’s expression of dismay – had been to murmur ‘My God!’ and then add, ‘Better than walking, anyway.’

  Some princess, that was, back there…

  She’d warned him – privately, when the Solovyevs had been talking to the Czechs – not to trust Engineer Captain Sergei Dherjakin.

  ‘Although he saved your lives?’

  ‘Well, as to that – you see, he must have recognized us as his own kind. Although we’d gone to some trouble not to be recognizable as anything of the sort – and not that we could have looked quite as extraordinary as you do now, Bob…’

  ‘Well, thanks.’

  ‘If you ask me nicely I’ll trim your beard for you. I’ve got some scissors. I’d better do Nikki’s too. Not even Bolsheviks have to look like scarecrows… But – Dherjakin’s no fool, he’d sized up our situation – and Maria Ivanovna was so obviously a sick woman…’

  ‘So he’s a decent sort of fellow. Why not trust him?’

  ‘Because – decent or not, the inclination to help us would have been natural, wouldn’t it? – I mean to a man of his background. And – fine, thank God for it and that he acted as he did, but – the plain fact is, Bob, he’s working for the Bolsheviks. That silly joke he made – that a man with a wooden leg can’t run away – it is silly, isn’t it, it’s meaningless. Irina swallowed it, of course—’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘—and Maria Ivanovna was too sick – and frightened – to be thinking much at all… Well, I grant you, there could be reasons such as blackmail, or his family held as hostages – if they’re so short of men of his calibre and experience – they’re capable of anything, I know. But apart from that – this is a senior officer of the Imperial Navy, and he’s serving that crowd of murderers. That’s fact – and why I say – take care.’

  He would, of course. But Dherjakin was the key to this – or should be.

  * * *

  They were getting close to Selitrenoe when two cars passed, going fast in the opposite direction, headlights blazing. Better lights than the old van had. Neither Bob nor the Count said a word until the second car’s tail-lights had gone out of sight astern: then Bob muttered, ‘Keep your fingers crossed. They may find a place to turn, and come after us.’


  ‘The possibility had occurred to me.’

  They could have come from Selitrenoe, which was half a mile ahead, or Seitovka, or from that big camp, or the village of Krasni-Yar, or from the supply base. Dherjakin might have been in one of them. Being dragged back to Moscow for the privilege of receiving a bullet in the back of the head, for instance – if he’d made too much of a habit of being kind to enemies of the Revolution.

  That was what Nadia had been warning him against, Bob realized. When the gallant captain had helped them on the train he’d been putting himself at no risk at all, he’d obviously had a very high degree of protection from the papers he was carrying. But if he was in a position where yielding to gentlemanly instincts might endanger him: and being, as she’d also said, no fool…

  ‘They don’t seem to be coming after us.’

  ‘Might have thought this truck was military. It could be, at a glance.’

  Nick said, after another half-mile, ‘There’ll be a search going on by now, won’t there?’

  ‘On the other side of the river, yes. And in Astrakhan itself, I’d guess.’

  ‘What if the owner of the boat we took from Kopanovka has reported it as stolen?’

  ‘Yes – that’s a risk, I know. But – trust to luck, really. Mind you, he can’t fish every day… And when he does report it, it mightn’t be linked to us. The steamboat’s pretty solid evidence of an escape down-river, you know, down that main western channel. If you were Lesechko, would you guess at anyone doing what I did?’

  ‘Not as long as I didn’t suspect Maroussia – and then hear she’d gone north on such a pointless errand.’

  ‘Not pointless by Maroussia’s standards. I admit Nadia’s disappearance could point at her, but I’d back the old girl to bluff that one out. And the steamboat thing won’t look to them like some little dodge just to put them off the scent – not when they find one of its crewmen in the engine-space bilge with a broken neck.’