Teenage Treasure Hunter

by Daniel Kenney

  Curial nodded.

  “And you believe the dolls are, right now, buried with Alexei?”

  Curial thought it over again. Yep. It made perfect sense. This great treasure was indeed buried treasure. He pointed at Dina. “Admit it. My theory works.”

  Dina smiled. “It does work, at least a little. There’s just one small problem.”

  “Which is?”

  “Maria and Alexei aren’t buried here.”

  “Obviously. Which room are they buried in?”

  Dina shook her head. “You don’t understand. Maria and Alexei aren’t buried anywhere.”

  Curial stopped breathing. “I don’t—”

  “Understand. Yes, clearly. Like I said, these Romanovs’ remains were discovered near Yekaterinburg in 1991—but Alexei’s body wasn’t among those found. It wasn’t until 2007 that Alexei’s remains were uncovered, along with the remains of Maria, one of his sisters.”

  “So, okay… but why haven’t Alexei and his sister been buried with the rest of them?”

  Dina sighed. “There is… some controversy. You see, many people don’t believe these bones—or the ones found in 2007—really belong to the Romanovs. The Roman Orthodox Church in particular. The Church still does not recognize the remains.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s a delicate matter for the Church. To the Church, the Romanov family died as martyrs of the faith, and thus are saints. And in the Church, there is a tradition of venerating the ‘relics’ of a saint: their bones. And, well…”

  It hit Curial like a truck. “The Church wants to be extra careful that people don’t venerate the wrong bones.”

  “Exactly. So when these Romanov bodies were buried in 1998, it was a huge deal and source of embarrassment that the Church wouldn’t recognize the remains. Because of that, when the remains of Maria and Alexi were discovered in 2007, the authorities decided to be much more careful and deliberate about identifying them—and things are just taking their time.”

  “So… what, the remains are just sitting in a box somewhere?”

  “Scientists have them, I guess. I don’t really know.”

  “Could you find out?”

  “Grandfather could find out, I suppose. But why does it matter? It’s not like the dolls are just sitting on a lab table next to the bones.”

  Curial’s face fell. He looked down at his watch, thinking about Claude. Less than three days.

  He needed another theory, and fast.

  Chapter Sixteen – The Doll Shop

  “My mom wanted me to come to Russia to find out the truth about the dolls. She wanted me to start at the beginning. But so far…”

  “So far,” Dina said, “you’ve come to St. Petersburg, where your mother dreamed of you going.”

  “Yeah, but I haven’t found the dolls.”

  “Curial, you’re not going to find the dolls. Whoever has them doesn’t want them to be found.”

  Curial looked at Dina, then twisted his face and looked down at the ground.

  “I can’t accept that. Somebody’s got to know something about these dolls. Something that can help us.” He chewed on his lip. “According to your grandfather, the dolls were given to Alexei Romanov in 1909 and that’s it…as far as the historical record goes. But what about the dolls themselves? About how they were made? Do you think I could find anyone who might know more about how the dolls were made? Is there any place that still sells matryoshka dolls?”

  Dina laughed. “Only about a thousand places.”

  “Any place you can think of where they still make matryoshka dolls?”

  “For the record, a girl being into ballet is much better than a boy being into dolls.”

  Curial ignored the jab. “Do you know of any place?”

  “Yeah,” Dina said. “I do.”

  Thirty minutes of walking later, they were standing in front of a store decorated with a yellow and green wooden sign that hung from metal hooks.

  “In English it would be called ‘Dolls of Beauty,’” Dina said. “No finer place in St. Petersburg for a boy to look at dolls.”

  She pushed the door open and a bell clanked against the glass. Curial followed her inside.

  The store was circular, maybe twenty feet across. Its floors were made of old wooden planks with spaces between them; Curial felt like the floor might tilt a little downhill. And surrounding the circular space on all sides were shelves upon shelves of painted wooden dolls. Some were matryoshka dolls, others were small sculpted dolls similar in size to a Barbie. Still others looked like puppets, with strings and sticks sticking out of their backs.

  Curial stared. “This place is—”

  “Amazing, I know. When I was little I came in here all the time with Grandfather.”

  A small woman with short chestnut brown hair and glasses walked in from the back. She leaned her forearms onto the counter and began to say something in Russian, and then her eyes grew big as plates. She laughed, then jogged around the counter and opened up her arms.

  Dina stood on her tippy toes, stretched as tall as she could, and smiled widely.

  The woman squeezed Dina tightly, said something in Russian, then backed away, her face suddenly cross. Dina responded in Russian, but then pointed to Curial and said “English.” The small woman’s eyes grew big. She switched to a heavily accented English.

  “Explain yourself, young lady, it has been far too long. Why do you not visit me anymore?”

  Dina turned to Curial, an embarrassed look on her face. The woman turned to Curial too, her face turning from cross to stern.

  “And who is this boy?” She studied Curial for a moment then sidled up next to Dina and grabbed her hand. “This boy giving you trouble, is he? Is he the reason I haven’t seen you in months?”

  Dina pushed the woman’s hand away. “Yes, Valeeni, it is true. I have been kidnapped by this boy and he has kept me away from doll shops until today.”

  The woman cracked a smile and shook her head. “You make fun of an old woman and think it’s funny?”

  Dina reacted in mock surprise. “I would never dream of making fun of an old woman! Although I love teasing a beautiful young girl such as yourself.”

  The small woman blushed and Dina put her arm around her.

  “No, Valeeni, I am afraid that I and my laziness are completely to blame for my absence. I am sorry.” She kissed the woman on the top of the head and the woman pushed her away, laughing.

  Dina gestured to Curial. “And this is my friend Curial. He is American.”

  Valeeni spoke out of the corner of her mouth. “And very black.”

  Curial laughed.

  “Valeeni, my friend here is in great need of some Russian culture, and he would like to know more about matryoshka dolls.”

  Curial raised a finger. “Specifically, the Romanov Dolls.”

  The small woman screwed herself up and practically grew two inches. She skipped across the showroom floor and settled on a set of nested dolls halfway up a shelf.

  “The most beautiful matryoshka dolls in all of Russia can be found in our shop—and as for Romanov dolls, we have several different selections. This one, for instance, starts with Catherine the Great and ends with Nicholas II, while this one—”

  Dina put her hand on the woman’s shoulder and squeezed.

  “No, Valeeni. He wants to know more about the Romanov Dolls.”

  The woman cleared her throat. “The Romanov Dolls?” Valeeni glanced at Dina who nodded, then turned toward Curial.

  He spoke up. “The ones given to Alexei on his fifth birthday. The ones that showed up in 1947 at the Manhattan Art Collective, and the ones that disappeared in a famous art heist twenty-three years later.”

  “Yes, those Romanov Dolls,” the woman said, chewing on the end of her glasses and nodding gravely to herself. Finally she took the glasses out of her mouth and pointed them at Curial. “Just who exactly are you?”

  “Like Dina said, an American desperately in need of some R
ussian culture.”

  “Then to learn about the Romanov Dolls, you must come with me.”

  Chapter Seventeen – Special Symbol

  Dina and Curial followed Valeeni behind the counter, through a doorway, and along a small corridor that slanted downward. They followed the creaking floor back into a workshop, where an old man sat on a stool, busily painting a set of matryoshka dolls.

  “Gennady?” the small woman said.

  The old man didn’t budge, just kept painting away as if Curial and Dina didn’t exist.

  “Gennady!” The small woman yelled this time, stomping her foot against the creaky floorboards as she did.

  The old man turned and lifted a white earbud from his left ear.

  Valeeni said something in Russian and an annoyed look came over the man’s face.

  “Can’t it wait, woman? Miley was just coming in like a wrecking ball.”

  Curial exchanged a look with Dina.

  “Miley Cyrus?” Curial asked.

  Valeeni’s face was two shades of pink and she shook her head. “My Gennady is obsessed with Miley Cyrus—much to my everlasting shame.”

  “I’ve followed her ever since her Hannah Montana days,” Gennady said, fully turning around now and removing both earbuds. “I knew she had genius in her even back then. Guess who was right, dear?”

  Valeeni turned completely away from her husband while he playfully stuck out his tongue at her. He then gingerly walked over to Dina and held his arms out.

  “Come give your Gennady a hug and I won’t make any comments about how you never come to visit us anymore.”

  “I think you just did.”

  The old man winked at Curial. “I’m sneaky that way.”

  Then he turned toward Curial and held out his hand.

  “You are black.”

  “So I keep being told. My name is Curial.”

  “And you’re American?”

  “Dina refers to me as a dumb blockhead American.”

  The man let out a belly laugh.

  “Gennady,” Dina said, “Curial is a friend of my grandfather and I have been asked to show him around St. Petersburg.”

  Valeeni stepped between Dina and Gennady. “He wants to know more about the Romanov Dolls.”

  “Well we have a good selection out—”

  “No, husband. The Romanov Dolls.”

  “Oh.” Gennady nodded his head and took a few breaths. “The Romanov Dolls. Well. In that case, you know what we need? Chocolate. Sipping chocolate, to be clear, like drinking a candy bar. My Valeeni, her sipping chocolate is the second grandest thing in all of Russia.”

  Valeeni put one fist against her hip. “And what is grander?”

  Gennady squeezed her hip playfully. “You are, my dear, you are.”

  Valeeni’s face once again turned two shades of pink, and she walked away.

  Gennady looked after his wife, shook his head, and returned to his workbench. He picked up an iPod and placed it in a port with speakers.

  “Okay. Miley? Taylor Swift? Lady Gaga? What does my American friend want to listen to?”

  “I was hoping I would just listen to you.”

  “Good answer. So what is it you would like to know about the Romanov Dolls?” He gestured to a pair of small stools, and Dina and Curial both took a seat.

  Curial shrugged. “Professor Ardankin just verified what I already knew, that the dolls were stunning and that they were given to Alexei Romanov for his fifth birthday. But I was wondering, do you know anything about how the dolls were made? I assume part of why they were worth so much is that, according to my mom, nobody could figure how the dolls had been made so perfect. Especially since most matryoshkas are crafted out of wood, not precious metals and fine jewels.”

  Gennady’s eyes did something funny—but just for a moment, and then it was gone. He turned to the sound of Valeeni walking down the corridor, bringing a silver platter with her. She handed a small silver cup to Gennady and one each to Dina and Curial, before sitting in a rocking chair in the corner.

  “So you want to know how the Romanov Dolls were made, eh?”

  Curial took a taste of his sipping chocolate, and turned to Valeeni. “This is delicious. Thank you.” He turned back to Gennady. “Do you have any ideas?”

  Curial watched Gennady as he took a long drink of his own sipping chocolate, his eyes taking a sideways glance toward Valeeni, who seemed to be chewing on the inside of her mouth while she rocked. Finally, Gennady pressed his lips together and shook his head.

  “A great mystery among toymakers, I’m afraid.”

  Gennady rubbed his hand across his mouth.

  “And that’s it? That’s your best guess?”

  Gennady leaned forward and gestured with his finger.

  “If you want my guess? My guess is that there was a team of artists working on those dolls for years—and when the dolls were finally perfect, they gave them to Czar Nicholas. That, I believe, is the true story.”

  Curial considered this. “I was reading about the history of matryoskha dolls, that the first dolls were carved in 1890 by Vasily Zvyozdochkin (ZV-YOZ-DOACH-KEEN) and I was thinking that must have made him very famous. And I guess I was guessing that if Czar Nicholas wanted someone to make a special set of dolls for him, who better than the most famous doll maker in Russia. Do you think it’s possible that Zvyozdochkin (ZV-YOZ-DOACH-KEEN) made the Romanov Dolls?”

  Gennady took another long sip. “I really don’t know but as I said, my guess is that a team of artists made those dolls.”

  Curial thought a moment. “Well then do you know if there are any relatives of Vasily Zvyozdochkin who are still making matryoshka dolls?”

  Gennady quickly grabbed a doll and started painting again. “I wouldn’t really know, but none that are famous. Valeeni and I know all the famous ones, don’t we dear?”

  Valeeni nodded, her hands folded in her lap.

  Things lapsed into an awkward silence then, with Gennady returning to his work and Dina and Curial sipping their chocolates. When Curial finished his, he stirred the bottom with his spoon and licked the end of the spoon, trying to savor every last drop. “That really was delicious, Valeeni, thank you so much.”

  Finally, Curial shrugged at Dina and stood. “And thank you Valeeni, Gennady for your time.”

  “Anything for a friend of our Dina. Now, do not be a stranger anymore,” Valeeni said to Dina, while grabbing her and squeezing her again.

  “I promise.”

  Gennady waved to them both and Valeeni escorted the two out of the shop. As they left, the little bell clanked against the glass.

  They were both quiet as they walked down the sidewalk. Finally, Dina punched Curial in the shoulder.

  “Ow!”

  “What exactly is going on here, Curial?”

  “I think you just punched me in the arm again.”

  “No, with Gennady and Valeeni. They weren’t acting normal.”

  “How so?”

  “They were—I don’t know—they were being weird.”

  Curial’s body tensed as he noticed someone moving toward them on the sidewalk.

  “Oh crap.”

  “I know, I can’t figure out why they were acting so weird.”

  “No Dina, the big guy in the dark coat, he found us.”

  Dina spun just as the large man picked up his pace. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. He was coming their way.

  Together, they turned the opposite direction and started to quickly walk away. A small blind man crossed their path. He stopped and lifted up his sunglasses.

  Correction. It wasn’t a man.

  “Maurice?” Curial said.

  “You can thank me later Curial. Just keep moving and don’t turn around. I assume the large man in the trench coat is the one who’s been following you?”

  Dina spun around. The big buy was thirty yards away.

  “I said don’t turn around,” Maurice hissed. “We need to hustle if we’re going to make i
t on time and lose this guy.”

  “Why are you here?” said Curial.

  “Because maybe I knew my best friend would need some help.”

  “I’m not your friend.”

  “Just keep telling yourself that rich kid.”

  Dina was confused. “You two know each other?”

  Maurice whacked his walking cane against the concrete. “Move it lovebirds, we don’t have time for the chit-chat.”

  “And where exactly are we going?” Curial asked after following Maurice across the street.

  Maurice’s eyes looked past Curial. “That big guy can really move. If you must know, we’re going to Moscow.”

  “Moscow!?” Dina and Curial both said in unison.

  Curial grabbed him by the shirt and stopped him. “Maurice, what is going on?”

  “I told you I’d have this whole thing wrapped up today. While you and blondie here were sightseeing all day, I’ve been running down the only clue we have.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The etching in the bottom of the doll, I figured out what it is, and that’s why we’re going to Moscow.”

  Maurice motioned for them to follow and then he sprinted across another street. He pointed in the distance at the train station.

  “Maurice!” yelled Curial.

  Maurice looked around nervously. “I don’t have time to explain.”

  Curial stood firm and folded his arms. “And I’m not going to Moscow unless you do explain.”

  Dina shook her head in frustration. “And I’m not going to Moscow at all.”

  Maurice looked at his watch impatiently. “Listen, have you seen Indiana Jones?”

  Curial managed a half-smile. “Only the greatest movie ever made.”

  “In the movie, the German Nazis are trying to find the Ark of the Covenant because Hitler believes the ark has special powers that he can harness as some kind of super weapon. Well guess what? After Stalin learned about Hitler’s program, he decided to get into the act too. He created a top secret program to find artifacts with special powers. Just like the Nazis had the special symbol, the swastika, Stalin’s program had a special symbol.”

  Dina’s face suddenly grew curious. “The etching on the bottom of the Romanov Dolls?”