Dazzle The Complete Unabridged Trilogy (31 page)

'Even the prescription is correct!' She appeared deeply
moved.

He waved his hand negligently. 'A token of my gratitude for
a delightful fete.' As he spoke, she placed her old spectacles in their case and slid it and the envelope of money into her black satin bag. When she yanked the tasselled string shut, the gap
ing mouth of the bag closed hungrily over its treasures with
the speed of a gulping fish. She let the bag drop to the floor
beside her and settled back, suddenly brusque and business
like. 'Now, my dear. You didn't ask me here to give me the
glasses, I take it?'

He stared at her. 'My dear Flora! You wound me,' he said, as if offended. 'You can't believe that I don't find the pleasure
of your company reason enough?'

'I'm afraid I find that
very
difficult to believe,' she sighed.
'I do know you, Vaslav.'

His face was a mask, but his voice bore grudging respect.
'You're a shrewd woman, Flora.'

She waited, sipping her tea.

'As I said before, Madame Bora is strong, but severely depressed. Which is why I am counting on you.'

'Indeed.'

'Yes. You, if anyone, can help speed her recovery.'

'Ah, but it isn't her health that concerns you.'

He shrugged eloquently. 'Her health concerns me, of
course. As does anyone's under my roof.'

The Countess wasn't fooled. 'I see,' she said, folding her
plump pink hands in her lap.

'You are her only friend, I think?'

It was the Countess's turn to shrug.

'And as such, her speedy recovery is of interest to you as
well.'

'She is going through a great personal crisis, and crises are
hardly the stuff of which good health is made. She is dying inside. A man has deserted her, Vaslav. A tragedy . . . if ever
there was one. I'm afraid we shall find it rather difficult to give
her life new meaning.'

He nodded. 'Difficult, perhaps. But impossible, no. I think I have come up with the antidote she requires.'

'Which is?'

'We will arrange for her to do that which she loves best:
acting. She will be doing something constructive which will
take her mind off her present situation. She will have no time
to languish in her depression.'

Countess Florinsky thought it over before nodding approv
ingly. She permitted a slight smile to appear on her lips, 'I
think you are right.'

'Good. You will help with it then, Flora. Give her moral
support. Urge her to get to work, to forget that man, and so
on. I think you understand?'

She nodded.

He smiled. 'Then it is settled. Come to think of it, I am
rather pleased. Not only will Madame Bora benefit enor
mously, but you also.'

'How?'

'There will be many fetes and performances for which you
will receive considerable commissions.'

'I am her friend, Vaslav,' she said gravely. 'As such, it is my
duty to protect her.'

'From what?'

'You.'

'Me!' He laughed, but his voice bore a trace of amused
respect. 'Even if it is not in your own best interests.'

'That depends. She is lovely, marvellously naive, and
dangerously impressionable. And despite your noble veneer,
Vaslav, you are a shark.'

He regarded her thoughtfully. 'I have been called many
things,' he mused, rubbing his chin, 'but never a shark.'

'A shark who needs constant feeding. I don't need to mention that Tatiana Ivanova has left the Théâtre Français?'

'Oh, has she now?'

'She has indeed,' the Countess sniffed, 'as if you didn't
know.'

He nodded and rose to his feet, towering above her. 'Then
I can count on enlisting your help?'

She sighed deeply. For once her hugely magnified eyes were
sad and lacklustre. 'What choice do I have?' She looked up at
him.

He smiled tightly. 'You are always free to do as you choose.'

'Am I, now . . .' she murmured. 'I wonder, sometimes.'

'I think you know what is best for you both.' He paused.
'You have always trod the line between duty to others and
duty to yourself with remarkable agility. I do not think that
that particular talent will desert you now, of all times.'

'This is different
...
I have to think it over. She could get
hurt in the process. I prize her friendship, and I have no desire
to jeopardize it.'

'Of course not.' He stared blandly at her. 'There is no need
to.'

She returned his gaze.

'I am convinced that within the week you will have her up and about. She will be grateful to you for having helped her.'

The Countess tightened her lips. 'Well, I do hope you know
what you're doing,' she said agitatedly.

'Flora, as long as things work out as planned, she will get what she wants, namely a career onstage, you will get what you want, a deepening friendship . . . and a little money. And
I . . .' His voice trailed off.

'You will get
her ,'
she finished pointedly.

He smiled easily and showed her to the door. 'I am counting
on you, Flora. You know that.'

She nodded and stepped out into the cool hall. Before he closed the door she turned to face him. 'What I'm going to do,' she said softly, 'is not for you or the money, but for her.
Because it is as you said. She needs something to occupy her
mind.'

'Does that mean you don't want money?'

'Thirty pieces of silver for delivering her to you?' Her giant
hat wobbled precariously as she shook her head. 'No, I don't
want any money for this.'

'You are a strange woman, Flora,' he said.

'And perhaps a foolish one. Time will tell.'

'Time always tells.'

'Just don't hurt her, Vaslav. That's all I ask. She's special.
She's not another Tatiana Ivanova.'

He stared at her and closed the door softly. Slowly she
made her way along the giant hall. For once she was vaguely
frightened. The Danilovs wielded too much power.

Too much, it occurred to her now, for their own good.

And far too much for the good of many others.

Chapter 12

A week later, Vaslav Danilov summoned Count Kokovtsov
to the Chinese Room. He was leafing through a sheaf of docu
ments, occasionally making notes in the margins. 'What have you to report?' the Prince inquired mildly, seated behind his
big tulipwood
bureau plat.

'Madame Bora's friend has moved into an apartment above
a bookstore on Zaytsev Street,' the Count intoned in his usual
lugubrious manner. He crossed to a cabinet, poured himself a generous glass of vodka, and downed it in one swallow.

The Prince did not look up from his pages. 'And?'

'We have stumbled upon a hornet's nest. The apartment is
leased to a student. A radical student, I am told,' the Count added distastefully. 'It is suspected that as many as ten or
twelve students, all involved in varying degrees in anti-Czarist
politics, may be sharing the same premises.' He visibly shud
dered at the thought.

'Men?' Vaslav asked, 'Women? Or both?'

'Both.'

'I see.' The Prince pushed the papers aside thoughtfully.
'That many people will make surveillance difficult.'

'On the contrary.' The Count took a seat, the huge shiny
surface of the desk between them a visible barrier between
their separate stations. 'As you ordered, Captain Dimitrov of
the
Okhrana
has taken over surveillance duties. He now has
his men stationed in an apartment they have temporarily . . .
ah, appropriated . . .'—the Count coughed discreetly into his cupped hand—'. . . directly across the street from the book
store. I am but the liaison, as planned.'

'Good,' the Prince said with a nod. 'And our star-to-be?
Has she been placed yet?'

Count Kokovtsov nodded, his normally pained expression
unchanged. 'She has,' he answered, 'although she does not
know it yet. I might add that Monsieur Guerlain was quite
unhappy about the arrangement. I received a rather pompous
dissertation on artistic integrity and other such nonsense. Of
course, it all boiled down to the fact that, the Count paused
and then mimicked Monsieur Guerlain's patrician French
vowels, his own voice taking on a high-pitched, effetely fluent
tone—' "The Théâtre Français can never, never allow its stan
dards to be lowered, or its integrity to be compromised.
Never, Monsieur le Comte, under any circumstances or for all
the money in the world!" '

'One never says "never",' the Prince murmured pontifically
with an idle wave of his hand. 'I take it that what we wanted is precisely what was agreed upon, in the end?'

'It was.'

'It is amazing, is it not, Cousin Mordka, what a difference
a little money can sometimes make in a person's outlook? How it can tempt the most conscientious of men?'

The Count nodded again. 'Money and death, the great
equalizers. At any rate, Madame Bora will become the under
study for Olga Botkina within a month's time. That does not
give
us
much time, considering that she does not speak so
much as a word of French.'

The Prince was not bothered by simple logistics. With
enough money to smooth the way, such things could be seen
to easily enough. 'Acting is but the memorization of words
and emotions,' he said. 'She will learn fast.'

'I hope so,' the Count said unhappily. 'If not, we will
become the laughingstock of St. Petersburg.'

'Indeed not!' the Prince said haughtily. 'Secrecy is of tanta
mount importance. You have stressed that, I take it!'