The Property of a Lady (63 page)

“There was nothing sexual going on between them, and we thought Jakey was just being an old-fashioned gentleman about it. Azaylee had set her heart on a big October wedding at Lexington Drive with a marquee on the lawn and her family and her show-business friends, but with the show such a hit, the wedding was rearranged for the following April to give them enough time to find a replacement to take over her role.

“I often visited her in New York, taking the train because I’ve always mistrusted airplanes. I stayed with her at the Sherry Netherland, but the days were my own to fill in as I liked because she kept such late hours, partying every night after the show, and she slept most of the day. Jakey would come around at about four and order room service for her—he kept an eye on her diet and made sure she ate properly. He fussed over her a lot and she seemed to like it. Like a little girl with a father, I thought, only he wasn’t that much older than she.

“By now it was impossible for her to walk down the street without being mobbed. She went everywhere by limousine and it was getting on her nerves, so on Sundays he would take her out to friends’ places on Long Island, and she would swim and race around playing tennis. She had such phenomenal energy then.

“The World’s Fair was to open soon and New York was filled with international visitors. She was constantly entertaining important foreign delegations backstage after the show. She was always charming, sparkling, and laughing, just the way they expected a star to be. Everyone adored her. She had known Jakey almost two years and in all that time, she had never once been ‘ill.’ I thought she had forgotten all about it, forgotten the doctors
in their white coats and the sanatorium and the long leaden days when all she had wanted to do was sleep because being awake and trying to cope was just too painful.

“I was backstage one night after the show—in October, I think it was—when the manager said there were some important Russian visitors out front who would very much like to meet Miss Adair. I felt myself going pale and my voice shook as I inquired exactly who they were. Top political men, he said, here for the conferences. Their leader was a man by the name of General Grigori Solovsky.

“In a second I was catapulted back in time to that crowded train crawling its way through the frozen countryside as Captain Grigori Solovsky asked Azaylee her name. I held my breath, just as I had done then, waiting agonizedly for her reply. ‘Azaylee,’ she had said, laughing, ’Azaylee O’Bryan….” And then even farther back to the night in the forest when Solovsky had taken Alexei away for ever. I still relived it in my dreams. And now what I had feared had finally happened. He had found us.

“I heard Azaylee saying ‘Of course I’ll see them. How interesting, Missie, they are Russian.’

“‘Maybe you shouldn’t …’ I began, and then suddenly there he was in the doorway. The same dark-haired, stocky little peasant of twenty years ago. Only then he had been young and still unsure enough of himself to accept my story, even though he hadn’t really believed it. And now he was a man of power, resplendent in a general’s uniform. My heart was in my mouth as I searched behind him, half expecting to see Alexei.

“I was standing out of the circle of light by the dressing table but anyway their eyes were focused on Ava Adair. I watched, trembling, as Solovsky took her hand and bowed. ‘We enjoyed the show so much,’ he said in heavily accented English, ‘that we felt we must tell you personally.
It is not often that we Russians have such a treat. My compliments, Miss Adair, on your wonderful talent.’

“Solovsky chatted for a few minutes and then he said, ‘I cannot help feeling we have met before, Miss Adair. Your face is familiar to me.’

“She said eagerly, ‘Do you think it’s possible?’

“I knew what she was going to say next and I rushed to interrupt her. ‘I don’t mean to appear rude,’ I said quickly, ‘but Jakey wants you to hurry over to the Stork Club as quickly as possible. Cole is there and Dick….’

“Solovsky’s eyes met mine and I knew he recognized me. ‘This is my mother, Mrs. Abrams.’ Azaylee introduced me. ‘I’m so sorry, General Solovsky, but I really must hurry. Maybe we could talk about this some other time….’

“He bowed to her again and said, ‘I would be delighted,’ but he was looking at me. He came over and shook my hand and he said quietly so the others wouldn’t hear, ’We know each other, do we not, Mrs. O’Bryan?’

“I didn’t know what to say, I was so frightened I thought my heart was about to stop. ‘We must talk,’ he murmured.

“I wondered if the Cheka were waiting outside to arrest us, and he read my mind easily and smiled. ‘Just you and I,’ he said quietly. I nodded, and agreed to meet him in my hotel suite in half an hour.”

New York

Grigori would have picked Missie’s face out from a thousand others because he had never forgotten the day on the train. It had been one of the few times he had allowed himself to slip back into the old ingrained peasant subservience, allowing her to spin him a story he suspected was not true and then letting her get away with it because he was afraid of looking a fool. The memory had rankled
but it was when he reached St. Petersburg and had investigated the Ivanoff deaths that he had put two and two together, and by then it was too late. They had disappeared and even the Cheka’s desperate searches had not come up with a single clue. His growing love for Alexei/Sergei had overcome his duty to his country, and even though Russia was desperate to get her hands on the Ivanoff billions, he had never wavered. Lenin would have not approved but for him, his “son” came first.

He had thought Ava Adair’s face was familiar, but it was only when he had seen Missie that he realized he was looking at Alexei’s sister. Xenia Ivanoff—alive and well and as beautiful as her famous mother.

Now, as he stepped into the elevator and was wafted slowly up to Missie’s hotel suite, he knew that this woman was the only person in the world who knew that he had taken Alexei. And if he was clever there would finally be a way to get Russia the money she wanted.

She was waiting for him beside a tray of silver jugs and china cups. Though she looked as calm as if she were about to preside over a ladies’ tea party, his experienced glance noted her dark eyes with the dilated pupils. She was afraid.

“So we meet again,” he said, speaking to her in Russian.

She shook her head. “It has been too many years since I spoke your language, Captain—
General
Solovsky.”

He sat opposite her in the expensive rose-pink and gilt room with its opulent swagged drapes and carved mirrors. “I think you will find my English has improved. It would not be easy to fool me a second time.”

“Nor would it be easy for you to fool me.”

Their glances met. “Then we are equal,” he said softly. “You have one Ivanoff child. I have the other.”

She said nothing, pouring tea with a steady hand, and he smiled. She was a fighter and he respected that.

She placed the cup in front of him, offering lemon and sugar. “Please, tell me about Alexei.”

“It seemed I had two choices as far as the boy,” he said abruptly. “I could have killed him and left him for the wolves along with the rest. Or I could take him with me, a prisoner of the new Russia. But there was a third option, a private one. I could reverse the roles and bring up the prince as a common man.”

He told her about his own upbringing in Siberia, about his meeting with Lenin, his
klassnaya dama
and his education and how he had dragged himself up by his peasant bootstraps via the army to become a man of importance in the new regime of the Socialist Republics.

“I already had a son,” he said, his deep voice booming through the pretty room, “and now I would have two.

“Sergei, as I called him, followed me around like a puppy. His gratitude was overwhelming, not for saving his life but for avenging his mother. He never spoke of his family and tried his best to fit into our simple life. My plan was working well—he was clever at sports as well as book learning. He quickly won a scholarship to a good school and left our home in Byelorussia to come and live with me in Moscow. It was years before I let him set foot in Leningrad—St. Petersburg as he had known it. I was afraid to trigger old memories and disturb our relationship.

“Sergei went on to Moscow University and then did his army training. He proved a capable officer and now, at twenty-seven, he is a dedicated Party member with his feet on the first rungs of the ladder to high political position. He never talks to me about the past. It is forgotten.”

He said calmly, “I am proud of the success of my experiment. And proud of my son Sergei. So you can imagine my surprise when tonight I stumbled over you and realized that I had found what Russia had been searching for for years. Except, of course, they never had any real proof that the Ivanoffs did escape. Only you and I know that. They searched the world for them and they have not
given up that search. It is important to Russia that if the Ivanoifs are alive, they be found. And you know why.”

Gripping her hands tightly together to stop them trembling, Missie asked, “Are you going to tell them?”

It was the question that had been burning in her brain since she met him and he knew it. He smiled at her pleasantly. “May I have another cup of tea? It’s very cozy here by the fire. Almost like being back in a Russian
dacha
in the old days.”

He studied her face as she poured the tea. Her downcast eyes hid her expression, but he knew he had her exactly where he wanted her.

“You and I have done our duty by our ‘children, ’” he said. “Now our work for them is done. Ava and Sergei have found the kind of personal success they could never have dreamed of as the son and daughter of Prince Michael and Princess Anouska. Sergei is his own man. He can be proud of his achievements because they were not bought for him. Can you say that my experiment was wrong then, Missie? Any more than yours was, in bringing up Xenia as your own daughter?”

He folded his hands together, propping his chin on them, staring at her with his piercing dark eyes.

“You are a clever woman, Missie,” he said softly. “I need not explain to you what could happen if I were just to pick up this telephone, right here, and call the Cheka. They are always with me, even here in New York, always around….”

If her face could have turned paler it would have. He smiled with satisfaction. He was about to drive a hard bargain. “I could take Ava away from you forever,” he said. “I could turn her over to my government to do with as they will because she is the key to the fortune that Russia so badly needs.” He paused for a second or two, watching her like a hawk hovering over the sparrow before it drops for the kill. “But I see that you love her like
your own child. I am a compassionate man. I am going to make a bargain with you. I want to give something to Sergei to reward him for the happiness he has brought me. I can think of no greater gift than reuniting him with his sister. The Ivanoff affair will remain a secret between us if you will agree to let Ava come to Russia for a few weeks. I will arrange a ‘cultural visit,’ a few concerts. I will take care of her and see she comes to no harm.”

Missie’s scalp prickled as she sensed danger. The pretty room was heavy with the scent of it, just the way it had been in the train. Through the fog of fear clouding her brain she saw through his plan. He would take Azaylee back to Russia and hand her over to the Cheka so that they could get their hands on the fortune. Alexei would never see her or even know about her. And Solovsky would still have his son. But she knew there was just one trump card left to play in this game—and it was hers.

“I understand your ‘compassionate’ motive exactly,” she replied, “but what you suggest is impossible. And so, General Solovsky, is your threat of the Cheka.”

“And why is that?” He stood up and began to pace the room, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Because America is a democratic nation where intimidation is not a way of life. Ava Adair is a famous woman. There would be an international incident. A scandal against Russia.”

He shrugged. “Russia has a strong back. She has weathered many scandals.”

“The other reason,” she said, sitting ramrod straight on the pink sofa and meeting his eye, “is that I know what happened to Alexei Ivanoff. I intend to make a statement in front of witnesses to this effect. Copies of that statement will be placed in a safe deposit box at my bank with my lawyers. If you ever attempt to touch Ava Adair, General Solovsky, you will hang yourself. And also your son.

He stared at her angrily. He knew he was beaten. She had found the only loophole and she had used it.

He sighed and sat down again opposite her. “You and I are cursed by a crippling disease—
love
. You know I would die rather than hurt Sergei. The brother and sister will never meet. Alexei Ivanoff will lead his new life and Xenia Ivanoff hers. There is no more to be said.”

“And the fortune that Russia wants so badly?” she asked, the old fear of the Cheka lurking at the back of her mind.

“You must maintain your silence and your anonymity. I can promise nothing.”

He stood up, looking at her with a faint amused smile. “I knew when I met you on the train that you were a tough adversary.”

“Only in love,” she said quietly. “Not in war.” There was just one more question she had to ask, something she needed to know finally. “Please tell me what happened to the prince.”

“Misha Ivanoff was shot by the peasant rebels at Varishnya. His body was burned when they dynamited the house.”

The door separating her sitting room from Azaylee’s suite crashed back against the wall and they swung around, startled. It was Azaylee, her face ghostlike against her blond hair. She was wringing her hands together. “I’m sorry if I interrupted,” she said in a small voice. “I came home early … I had a headache.”

“Then I will leave you in peace.” Solovsky bowed to her and Missie. “I will not forget,” he added as he strode through the door, and Missie had no doubt he would not.

She turned to look at Azaylee, still standing there twisting her hands together and staring at her, and she knew she had heard. And then she saw the look in her eyes, the same look she had had when O’Hara had been mown down by the machine-gun bullets, when she had
screamed and screamed as if she would never stop. Only this time she knew Azaylee was screaming inside, and this time she did not know how they were going to bring her back.