The Seeds of Power Page 24

  ‘They all say that,’ the policeman laughed, grasping her shoulders to drag her up, and push her out into the evening air, to a horse-drawn closed wagon. The back doors of it were opened and she was seized round the thighs and thrown into the interior. Desperately she rolled over. She gazed at two of the policemen, who were grinning at her in the gloom. ‘She’s a looker,’ one said.

  ‘Yeah,’ agreed his companion. ‘She could be carrying a concealed weapon.’ He glanced over his shoulder, at the racket coming up the stairs from the restaurant. ‘The captain won’t be back for a while.’

  They climbed into the wagon, and Alexandra tried to use her heels to push herself away from them, but they merely caught her ankles and pulled her back, causing her skirts to ride up. ‘You can have the bottom half,’ the first policeman said, and knelt beside her shoulder to tear open the bodice of the gown.

  ‘You bastards!’ she screamed. ‘I’ll have you hanged.’

  ‘Listen,’ he said. ‘Shut up, or I’ll hit you again.’

  Alexandra, opening her mouth to scream, closed it again as he tore open her petticoats and found her breasts. Then she whimpered as the other man threw up her skirts and delved through her drawers, driving his fingers into her vagina and anus. ‘Oh, God,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, God!’

  She wondered why she did not faint, with outrage and fury, that she, Alexandra Bolugayevska, could be so mistreated. But now they let her go, for voices, screams and shouts were coming closer. Then more people were thrown into the wagon; Alexandra pushed herself as far up the floor as she could to avoid them, but even so bodies thumped into hers, bruising her and winding her. Then the doors were slammed shut, and the wagon began to move, jolting over the cobbles.

  A few minutes later the wagon clattered into a courtyard, and the doors were opened to allow the prisoners to be dragged out. Alexandra was last. ‘Please,’ she said, as her feet hit the cobbles. ‘Please take me to your captain. I must speak with him.’

  ‘He’ll be speaking with you, soon enough, darling,’ the policeman grinned.

  Alexandra was pushed into the doorway, together with the other seven prisoners. Now there were lights and they could look at each other; she recognised them as people who had been drinking with David and herself earlier that evening.

  They were pushed along the corridor and into a room. From one wall a huge portrait of the Tsar looked down on them. ‘Sit down,’ commanded a police sergeant, and they obeyed, except for Alexandra.

  ‘I am the Countess Alexandra Bolugayevska,’ she declared, summoning all her courage. ‘I demand to see your commanding officer.’

  ‘I said sit down,’ the sergeant said, and suddenly moved his right hand. The whip uncoiled and slashed across her shoulders. She uttered a shriek and fell to the floor, this time banging the back of her head. ‘Get up!’ shouted the sergeant, flicking the whip again. Alexandra pushed herself to her feet.

  *

  Colonel Dimitri Taimanov had been to the opera, where he had been delighted to meet his old friend Colonel Constantine Dubaclov—they had served together in the Crimea—even if he frowned at the uniform. ‘You have been transferred,’ he remarked.

  ‘I transferred myself,’ Dubaclov said. ‘The Hussars are all very well in time of war, but in time of peace they do nothing but parade. The Cossacks are constantly in action.’

  ‘Carrying out pogroms against the Jews, eh?’ Taimanov laughed.

  ‘When we are called upon to do so, certainly,’ Dubaclov said modestly. ‘But right now I have some hopes of Poland, if matters there develop.’

  ‘Ah, yes, Poland.’ Taimanov slapped him on the shoulder. ‘Tell me, Constantine, have you never married?’

  ‘Never,’ Dubaclov said, a trifle grimly.

  ‘But...were you not engaged once?’

  ‘To a Bolugayevska. Very briefly. The engagement was terminated by that Englishman, when he became Prince.’

  ‘And has now gone to Poland, as vice to the Grand Duke?’

  ‘Yes,’ Dubaclov said, grimly.

  ‘And you would serve under him?’

  ‘I would do anything to bring him down,’ Dubaclov said. ‘Serving under him might give me the opportunity.’

  Taimanov studied him for a few moments, then he slapped him on the shoulder again. ‘I wish you joy. Now, are you in the mood for some amusement?’

  ‘I am always in the mood for amusement, Dimitri.’

  ‘My people were carrying out a raid this evening, on an establishment haunted by students, many of whom are Jews. It is a perfect hotbed of sedition, plots against the government. They will have completed their task by now. Shall we go and talk with some of these people?’

  ‘Talk?’ Dubaclov queried. Taimanov winked.

  *

  The cab dropped them in the courtyard, and they went inside the station building, past saluting policemen, to be greeted by Captain Karpov.

  ‘The raid was a success, Your Excellency. We took eight prisoners.’

  ‘Have you interrogated them yet?’

  ‘I waited, Your Excellency. I felt you would wish to question them yourself.’

  ‘Good man. They are in the chamber?’

  ‘Yes, Your Excellency.’

  Taimanov beckoned Dubaclov and led him into a small office. ‘Here we see with the eyes of the Tsar,’ the policeman said with a grin. He stood against the wall and peered into the eyepiece. ‘Do you like pretty girls, or pretty boys, Constantine? We have a couple of each in there.’

  ‘I’m afraid I prefer girls, Dimitri.’ Dubaclov was apologetic, as he knew his friend’s tastes.

  ‘Well, take your pick.’

  Taimanov stepped aside, and Dubaclov looked through the eyepiece. He saw eight very dilapidated, very frightened young people. Then he frowned, and stepped back. ‘The third woman from the right in the back row.’

  Taimanov looked. ‘Yes, she is attractive. Although she seems to have been knocked about a bit.’

  ‘Who is she?’

  ‘My dear fellow, I have no idea. She will no doubt tell us when we begin to tickle her a little.’

  ‘She has not already told you?’

  Taimanov looked at Karpov, who had accompanied the two colonels into the room.

  ‘She keeps screaming that she is the countess something-or-other,’ Karpov said, ‘but when she was beaten she shut up.’

  ‘My God!’ Dubaclov muttered.

  ‘You are not going to tell me she is a countess?’ Taimanov demanded.

  ‘She is the Countess Alexandra Bolugayevska,’ Dubaclov told him.

  ‘With respect, Your Excellency,’ protested the captain. ‘She was picked up in a beer hall which is well-known to be a meeting place for dissidents.’

  ‘That does not alter the fact that you have the youngest of the Bolugayevska sisters in there.’

  ‘Do you wish me to let her go?’ Taimanov asked. ‘Just like that? There will be the most devil of a fuss.’

  ‘She was associating with known dissidents,’ Karpov insisted.

  ‘The affair needs to be handled with delicacy,’ Dubaclov said. His brain was racing. His greatest wish was somehow to bring that family down, save perhaps for Dagmar. He had never had any idea how it was to be done. But now...

  ‘Well?’ Taimanov demanded.

  ‘There could be serious consequences,’ Dubaclov said. ‘As you reminded me earlier, Dimitri, this girl’s brother-in-law is now vice-Governor-General of Poland. Clearly he has the ear of the Tsar. Will you handle it as I recommend?’

  ‘Certainly,’ Taimanov agreed.

  ‘It will also be amusing, and I promise you, with no repercussions.’

  ‘Tell me what you wish me to do.’

  ‘I wish you to interrogate the Countess before any of the others. You have a special room for this?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Can it be overlooked?’

  ‘There is an arrangement.’

  ‘Very well. Treat her exactly as you would treat any o
ther prisoner, as of course, in view of the circumstances of her arrest, you cannot be expected to believe her claim that she is a Bolugayevska. At an appropriate moment I will enter, and rescue her.’

  ‘You understand that it is normal procedure for the woman to be raped, before questioning begins?’ Taimanov asked. ‘This puts them in a very submissive frame of mind,’ he added, as if understanding that some kind of an explanation might be necessary.

  ‘I do not think that would be a good idea,’ Dubaclov said. ‘I wish nothing quite so irrevocable done to her. That would make my task too difficult. Just tickle her up a little; that should be sufficiently amusing.’

  Taimanov stroked his chin. ‘And afterwards?’

  ‘I swear it, on our eternal friendship, and as I am an old friend of the family, that you will hear no more of it.’

  ‘Suppose she confesses before you get there, Your Excellency?’ Karpov inquired.

  ‘I doubt she will do that, Captain.’

  *

  Dubaclov was taken to a small chamber situated above the interrogation room. Here there was a window through which he could look down on the room, but as the glass was tinted no one in the room could see him. He could not hear what might be said below him, but he was not interested in what might be said. The interrogation room itself contained a desk, behind which there was a comfortable chair. In front of the desk there was a straight chair, and to one side of the desk there was a plain bench; the bench was bolted to the floor. Against the wall, beyond the bench, there was a high cupboard.

  Dubaclov watched Taimanov and Karpov enter the room. Taimanov sat behind the desk, while Karpov stood to one side. A few moments later the door opened again, and four policemen entered, pushing Alexandra before them. He had always considered her the least beautiful of the sisters, but she remained, even in her present condition, a most attractive woman.

  There was an exchange of words between Taimanov and Alexandra, with the Countess speaking with some vehemence. Then Alexandra started to shout, her face crimson, her yellow hair flailing to and fro as she moved her head. Taimanov gave an order and one of the policemen slapped Alexandra’s face. She stopped shouting and gasped for breath. The four policemen now stripped her, passing her back and forth like a toy to be unwrapped as they ripped the layers of expensive cloth. Alexandra was panting and now beginning to weep, but she was obviously too shocked by what was happening to her to attempt to fight them.

  When she was naked, she was pushed and pulled to the bench and made to sit astride it. Her body was then thrust forward, and her wrists secured by cords to the two legs. Her ankles were similarly secured, to the centre legs, leaving her pinned face down to the bench from her thighs up, with her legs apart. Taimanov had left the desk to stand above Alexandra, while Karpov opened the cupboard and took out a thin cane, which he whipped to and fro so that it was obviously making a swishing sound, because Alexandra’s head came up and she twisted it right and left, clearly again protesting. Then both men bent forward to peer at the scar on her right buttock, prodding her and laughing.

  Dubaclov left the observation room and went down the steps. As he reached the corridor a howl of mingled pain, outrage and humiliation drifted through the building as Karpov delivered the first blow. Dubaclov waited for the second blow and the second scream, this time of real anguish, before he knocked. The door was opened by one of the constables, who were not in the private arrangement between the two colonels. ‘Colonel Taimanov asked me to call. Colonel Dubaclov.’

  ‘Constantine, my dear fellow,’ Taimanov hurried forward to greet him as the door was held wide.

  ‘I am told you arrested some of the scum,’ Dubaclov said.

  ‘Oh, indeed. We have had a successful evening. Have you ever seen such a delicious ass? Although I must say, someone appears to have chopped a piece out of it.’

  Alexandra, who had undoubtedly heard his name, raised her head at the same moment. ‘Dubaclov!’ she shrieked. ‘Help me! Constantine!’

  ‘My word,’ Dubaclov remarked.

  ‘Do you know this woman?’ Taimanov sounded suitably astonished.

  ‘That is the Countess Alexandra Bolugayevska,’ Dubaclov said. ‘My dear fellow, there must be some mistake.’

  ‘Well, to be sure, she did claim to be a countess,’ Taimanov said, and looked at Karpov.

  He continued with his allotted role. ‘She was arrested in the company of known dissidents, Your Excellency.’

  ‘Surely not,’ Dubaclov said, moving closer to the naked girl.

  ‘Constantine!’ Alexandra shouted. ‘Help me, for the love of God! They are killing me.’

  ‘Of course I shall help you, Alix,’ Dubaclov said. ‘Release her this instant,’ he commanded the policemen.

  They looked at Taimanov, who nodded. Dubaclov took off his greatcoat and wrapped Alexandra in it, and she clung to his arm, still crying. ‘That woman is under arrest, Your Excellency,’ Karpov protested. ‘Even if she is a countess.’

  ‘I will make myself responsible for her, Dimitri,’ Dubaclov said. ‘If she is proved guilty of anything, you will let me know.’

  ‘Well,’ Taimanov said. ‘It is very irregular.’

  ‘I will have you hanged,’ Alexandra snapped at him; her tears were drying.

  ‘I think you should impress upon the Countess the seriousness of her situation, Constantine,’ Taimanov said severely.

  ‘Oh, I shall,’ Dubaclov promised. ‘But now I shall take her home.’

  One of the policemen summoned a cab, and Dubaclov held Alexandra in his arms as they drove to the Bolugayevski Palace.

  ‘Do you know what they did to me?’ Alexandra asked.

  ‘No, I don’t, as a matter of fact,’ he lied. ‘Why do you not tell me?’

  ‘I will tell the Tsar,’ she said angrily.

  ‘I think you need to think about that,’ he suggested.

  *

  ‘Alexandra!’ Anna peered at her sister. ‘My God! Have you been in a fight?’

  ‘Anna!’ Alexandra hurled herself into Anna’s arms.

  Anna looked past her at Dubaclov. She made a most attractive sight, for she had been in bed, and had pulled on nothing more than an undressing robe. ‘Dubaclov?’ she asked. ‘Did you do this?’

  ‘Of course I did not, Your Excellency. But it is a serious business,’ he said, and glanced at the servants, hovering curiously.

  ‘Go away,’ Anna told them. ‘Go back to bed. You, Oleg! Fetch a brandy decanter and some glasses.’

  Reluctantly they retired, Oleg scurrying off to do his mistress’s bidding. ‘What on earth is happening?’ Dagmar descended the stairs, also wearing a dressing gown.

  ‘Princess.’ Dubaclov bowed. ‘I’m afraid the Countess Alexandra has been arrested.’

  ‘Arrested?’ Alexandra shouted, releasing Anna. ‘I have been beaten, raped, whipped...’

  ‘Alix, please,’ Dagmar said. ‘You are being quite indecent.’ She was referring less to what her sister claimed had happened to her than to the way Dubaclov’s coat, several sizes too large, was swinging open.

  ‘We will go in there,’ Anna decided, and grasped Alexandra’s arm to push her into one of the downstairs parlours.

  Dubaclov and Dagmar gazed at each other. He would have spoken, but she gave a quick shake of her head; Oleg the butler was just emerging from the pantry with a tray containing the brandy decanter and four glasses. Dagmar and Dubaclov followed him into the parlour, where Anna had seated Alexandra on a settee and was rearranging the coat. ‘Thank you, Oleg,’ she said, and the butler bowed and left.

  ‘Close the doors, please, Colonel,’ Anna said. ‘Now. Tell me what happened?’

  ‘I have told you what happened,’ Alexandra shouted. ‘I was seized by these policemen, virtually raped, punched, beaten, stripped, caned...God, it hurts.’ She shifted her position. ‘If Constantine had not come along God knows what they would have done to me.’

  ‘But that is outrageous,’ Anna declared. ‘Those men must b
e punished. Do you know who they are, Colonel?’

  ‘Yes, I do, Your Excellency. However, the business is not quite as straightforward as it seems.’

  ‘Straightforward?’ Alexandra shouted. ‘I am going to the Tsar.’

  ‘I think we should hear what Constantine has to say,’ Dagmar suggested.

  ‘Go on, Colonel,’ Anna invited, her tone remaining cold.

  ‘Well, Your Excellencies, the Countess was in the company of a group of well-known dissidents when she was arrested.’

  ‘Who were you with, Alix?’ Anna asked.

  ‘I was having supper with David Fine,’ Alexandra said sulkily. ‘I told you that. He is my friend. There was nothing illicit about it. He took me to dinner in a little bistro close to his lodgings, and suddenly the police burst in.’

  ‘This bistro, as the Countess calls it, is apparently well known to the police as a haunt of dissidents,’ Dubaclov pointed out. ‘And indeed, it is at present the headquarters of a gang who are plotting the assassination of the Tsar.’

  ‘Good heavens,’ Dagmar said again.

  ‘In fact, it is pretty certain that the people arrested with the Countess will be hanged, or at the very least exiled to Siberia for the rest of their lives.’

  Alexandra stared at him in horror.

  ‘I see,’ Anna said. ‘But surely you do not suspect my sister of being a member of such a gang?’

  ‘Of course I do not, Your Excellency. But it is a matter of evidence. The police were only doing their job. And if any of the other arrested people were to implicate the Countess...’

  ‘The man Fine?’ Dagmar said.

  ‘He was not arrested,’ Alexandra said. ‘He got away.’

  ‘He does not sound like a very reliable escort to me,’ Anna said. ‘But the police had no right to arrest my sister, much less ill-treat her. Quite apart from being of noble rank, she is an American citizen by virtue of her marriage to Mr Charles Cromb.’

  ‘Your Excellency, if the Countess is implicated in a plot against the life of the Tsar I do not think the fact that she is married to an American will have much effect on her sentence.’