EF06 - The State Counsellor (3 page)

Somewhat piqued at being compared to a straw, the State Counsellor cleared his throat and said in a mysterious tone: 'But nonetheless...'

'What "nonetheless"?' Vedishchev asked with a start, putting down the tray. He rapidly wiped his tear-stained face with a large handkerchief and ambled closer to Fandorin. 'You mean you have some kind of clue?'

'But nonetheless I can try,' Fandorin said thoughtfully. 'Indeed, I must. I was actually going to request Your Excellency to grant me the appropriate authority. By using my name, the killer has thrown down the gauntlet to me - not to mention those moments of extreme discomfort for which I was obliged to him this morning. Furthermore, I believe that when the criminal left Klin he
did
make his way towards Moscow It takes only one hour to get here by train from the scene of the crime, too short a time for us even to gather our wits. But it is nine hours back to St Petersburg in the opposite direction; in other words, he would still be travelling even as we speak. And in the meantime the investigation has begun, the search was already started at eleven o'clock, all the stations have been sealed and the railway gendarmes are checking the passengers on all trains within a distance of three hundred versts. No, he could not possibly have headed for St Petersburg.'

'But maybe he didn't go by rail at all?' the valet asked doubtfully. 'Maybe he got on a horse and trudged off to some place like Zamukhransk, to sit it out until the hue and cry die down?'

'Zamukhransk would be no g-good for sitting it out. In a place like that, everyone is in open view. The easiest place to hide is in a large city, where no one knows anyone else, and there is already a conspiratorial network of revolutionaries.'

The Governor General glanced quizzically at Erast Petrovich and clicked open the lid of his snuffbox, a gesture indicating his transition from a mood of despair to a state of intense thoughtfulness.

The State Counsellor waited while Prince Dolgorukoi charged both of his nostrils and gave vent to a thunderously loud sneeze. After Vedishchev had blotted his sovereign lord's eyes and nose with the same handkerchief that he had just used to wipe away his own tears, the prince asked: 'But how are you going to look for him, if he is here, in Moscow? This is a city of a million people. I can't even put the police and the gendarmes under your authority; the most I can do is oblige them to cooperate. You know yourself, my dear fellow, that the upper levels have been shuffling my request for you to be appointed head police-master from desk to desk for more than two months now. Just look at the chaotic state our police work is in.'

The chaos to which His Excellency was referring had developed in the old capital city following the dismissal of the previous head police-master, after it was discovered that he had taken the meaning of the words 'discretionary secret funds' rather too literally. A protracted bureaucratic intrigue was under way in St Petersburg: a court faction hostile to Prince Dolgorukoi absolutely refused to hand over a key appointment to one of the prince's creatures, but at the same time these implacable foes lacked the strength to impose their own placeman on the Governor General. And in the meantime the immense city had been left to carry on without its principal defender and guardian of law and order. In principle, the role of the head police-master was to lead and coordinate the activities of the Municipal Police and the Provincial Office of Gendarmes and the Department of Security, but the present state of affairs was an absolute shambles: Lieutenant Colonel Burlyaev of the Department of Security and Colonel Sverchinsky of the Office of Gendarmes wrote complaints about each other, and both of them complained of brazen obstruction by high-handed police superintendents.

'Yes, the situation at present is not propitious for joint operations,' Fandorin admitted, 'but in this p-particular case the disunity of the investigative agencies might just, perhaps, be to our advantage ...' Erast Petrovich puckered up his smooth forehead and his hand seemed to move of its own accord to draw out of his pocket the jade rosary beads that assisted the State Counsellor in focusing his thoughts.

The two old men, Prince Dolgorukoi and Vedishchev, well used to Fandorin's ways, waited with bated breath, their faces set in identical expressions, like little children at the circus who know for certain that the conjuror's top hat is empty and at the same time have no doubt that the sly trickster is about to pull a rabbit or a pigeon out of it.

The State Counsellor pulled out his rabbit. 'Allow me to ask exacdy why the criminal's plan succeeded so brilliandy,' Erast Petrovich began, and then paused as if he were really expecting a reply. 'The answer is very simple: he possessed detailed information concerning matters that very few people should have known about. That is one. The arrangements for the protection of Adjutant General Khrapov on his journey across Moscow province were only determined the day before yesterday, with the involvement of a very limited number of people. That is two. One of them, who knew the plan in its minutest details, betrayed that plan to the revolutionaries - either consciously or unconsciously. That is three. All we have to do is find this individual, and through him we shall find the Combat Group and the killer himself.'

'How do you mean, "unconsciously"?' the Governor General asked with a frown. 'Consciously, now - that's clear enough. Even in the state service there are turncoats. Some sell the nihilists secrets for money, some because the devil prompts them to do it. But when they're unconscious? You mean when they're drunk?'

'More likely out of carelessness,' Fandorin replied. 'The way it usually happens is that some official blurts out a secret to someone close to him who has connections with the terrorists -a son, a daughter, a lover. But that will merely add one more link to the chain.'

'Well then,' said the prince, reaching for his snuff again, 'the day before yesterday at the secret meeting concerning Ivan Fyodorovich's arrival (may the old sinner rest in peace), the only people present, apart from myself and you, were Sverchinsky and Burlyaev. Not even the police were involved - on instructions from Petersburg. So do we have to regard the heads of the Office of Gendarmes and the Department of Security as suspects? That seems rather outlandish. A ... aa ... choo!'

'Bless you,' Vedishchev put in, and began wiping His Excellency's nose again.

'Yes, even them,' Erast Petrovich declared decisively. And in addition, we need to find out who else in the Office and the Department was privy to all the details. I assume that can only be three or four people at most, no more.'

Frol Grigorievich gasped. 'Good Lord, why that's mere child's play to you! Vladimir Andreevich, for goodness' sake don't go into mourning yet. If this is the end of your career, then you'll leave the service with full honours, in style. They'll see you off waving and cheering, not with a boot up the backside! Erast Petrovich will have this Judas sorted out for us in a jiffy. "That is one, that is two, that is three," he'll say - and all done and dusted!'

'It's not as simple as that,' said the State Counsellor, with a shake of his head. 'Yes, the Office of Gendarmes is the first place where there could have been a leak. And the Department of Security is the second. But unfortunately there is a third possibility, which I shall not be able to investigate. The plan that we agreed for the protection of Khrapov was sent to St Petersburg for confirmation by coded telegram. It included information about me, as the person responsible for our visitor's safety -with an abstract of my service record, a verbal description, intelligence profile and so forth; in short, everything that is normally required in such cases. Seidlitz had no doubts about the false Fandorin, because the impersonator had been informed in minute detail about my appearance and even my st-stammer ... If the source of the leak is in St Petersburg, it is unlikely that I shall be able to do anything. My writ doesn't run there, as they say ... But even so the chances are two out of three that the trail begins in Moscow. And the killer is most likely hiding somewhere here. We have to look for him.'

From the Governor General's house the State Counsellor went directly to the Office of Gendarmes on Malaya Nikitskaya Street. As he rode in the prince's blue-velvet-upholstered carriage, he wondered what approach he ought to take with Colonel Sverchinsky. Of course, the hypothesis that Sverchinsky, a longstanding confidant of the prince and Vedishchev, could be involved with revolutionaries required a certain liveliness of the imagination, but the good Lord had endowed the State

Counsellor plentifully with that particular quality, and in the course of a life rich in adventures he had come across surprises more bizarre than that.

And so, what could be said about Colonel Stanislav Sverchinsky of the Special Corps of Gendarmes?

He was secretive, cunning and ambitious, but at the same time very cautious - he preferred to stay in the background. A meticulous career man. He knew how to bide his time and wait for his chance, and this time it seemed to have come: as yet he was only acting head of the Office of Gendarmes, but in all likelihood he would be confirmed in that post, and then the most mouth-watering career prospects would be open to him. Of course, it was well known in both Moscow and St Petersburg that Sverchinsky was Prince Dolgorukoi's man. If Vladimir Andreevich were to leave the old capital city for the sunny scrap heap of Nice, the colonel might never be confirmed in his coveted appointment. And so, as far as Stanislav Filippovich Sverchinsky's career prospects were concerned, the death of General Khrapov was a distressing, perhaps even fatal, event. At least, that was how matters appeared at first glance.

The journey from Tverskaya Street to Malaya Nikitskaya Street was no distance at all and were it not for the cold wind driving the slanting snow, Fandorin would have preferred to go on foot: walking was better for thinking. Here was the turn off the boulevard already. The carriage drove past the cast-iron railings of the mansion of Baron Evert-Kolokoltsev, where Fandorin lived in the outhouse, and two hundred paces further on the familiar yellowish-white building with a striped sentry box at the entrance emerged from the white shroud of the blizzard.

Fandorin climbed out, held down the top hat that was straining to take flight, and ran up the slippery steps. In the vestibule a familiar sergeant saluted the State Counsellor smartly and reported without waiting to be asked: 'In his office. He's expecting you. Your coat and hat, if you please, Your Honour. I'll take them to the cloakroom.'

Erast Petrovich thanked him absent-mindedly and looked round the familiar interior as if he were seeing it for the first time.

A corridor with a row of identical oilcloth-upholstered doors, drab pale-blue walls with perfunctory white skirting, and - at the far end - the gymnastics hall. Could state treason really be lurking here, within these walls?

The departmental adjutant on duty in the reception room was Lieutenant Smolyaninov, a ruddy-faced young man with lively black eyes and a dashingly curled moustache.

'Good health to you, Erast Petrovich,' he said, greeting the habitual visitor. 'Terrible weather, eh?'

'Yes, yes,' said the State Counsellor, nodding. 'May I go in?' And he walked straight into the office without any further ado, as an old colleague and, perhaps - in the near future - an immediate superior.

'Well, what news of happenings in higher places?' asked Sverchinsky, rising to greet him. 'What does Vladimir Andreevich say? What are we to do, what measures are we to take? I confess I'm at a loss.' He lowered his voice to a terrible whisper and asked: 'What do you think - will they dismiss him?'

'To some extent that will depend on the two of us.'

Fandorin lowered himself into an armchair, the Colonel sat down facing him, and the conversation immediately turned to business.

'Stanislav Filippovich, I shall be frank with you. We have a t-traitor among us, either here, in the Office of Gendarmes, or in the Department of Security'

'A traitor?' The Colonel shook his head violently, inflicting serious damage on the ideal parting that divided his smoothly slicked hairstyle into two symmetrical halves. 'Here?'

'Yes, a traitor or a blabbermouth, which in the given case is the same thing.' The State Counsellor expounded his reasoning to the Colonel.

Sverchinsky listened, twirling the ends of his moustache in agitation. Having heard Fandorin out, he set his hand on his heart and said with feeling: 'I entirely agree with you! Your reasoning is absolutely just and convincing. But I ask you please to exempt my office from suspicion. Our assignment in the matter of General Khrapov's arrival was extremely simple - to provide a uniformed escort. I didn't even take any special measures, simply ordered a mounted half-platoon to be made ready, and that was all. And I assure you, my esteemed Erast Petrovich, that in the entire Office only two men were aware of all the details: myself and Lieutenant Smolyaninov. I had to explain everything to him, as the adjutant. But you know him yourself; he's a responsible young man, bright and very high-minded, not the kind to fall down on the job. And I dare to hope that I am known to you as a man not given to gossiping.'

Erast Petrovich inclined his head diplomatically: 'That is precisely why I came to you in the first instance and am keeping nothing back from you.'

'I assure you, it must be the Petersburg crew or those types from Gnezdikovsky!' the Colonel said, opening his handsome, velvety eyes wide - by 'those types from Gnezdikovsky' he meant the Department of Security, located on Bolshoi Gnezdikovsky Lane. 'I can't say anything about Petersburg, I'm not in possession of adequate information; but Lieutenant Colonel Burlyaev has plenty of riff-raff among his helpers - former nihilists and all sorts of shady characters. That's the place you need to sound out. Of course, I wouldn't dream of accusing Pyotr Ivanovich himself, God forbid, but his agents were responsible for the secret security arrangements, so there must have been some kind of briefing and an explanation - to a pretty large group of highly dubious individuals. Very imprudent. And another thing...' Sverchinsky hesitated, as if unsure whether or not to continue.