ever heard of the All-Russian Monarchist Assembly?" Semyon Pashenko asked.
Lord shook his head.
"I have," Akilina said. "They want to restore the tsar to power. After the Soviet fall, they used to hold big parties. I read about them in a magazine article."
He nodded. "They held big parties. Monstrous affairs with people dressed as nobles, Cossacks in tall hats, middle-age men in White Army uniforms. All designed to garner publicity, to keep the tsarist issue alive in the hearts and minds of the people. They were once thought fanatics. Now, not so."
"I doubt that group could be credited with the national referendum on restoration," Akilina said.
"I would not be so sure. There was far more to the assembly than met the eye."
"Could you get to the point, Professor?" Lord asked.
Pashenko sat in an almost unnatural pose that communicated no emotion. "Mr. Lord, do you recall the Holy Band?"
"A group of noblemen who pledged their lives for the tsar's safety. Inept and cowardly. Not one of them was around when a bomb killed Alexander II in 1881."
"A later group took that same name," Pashenko said. "But I assure you, it was not inept. Instead, it survived Lenin, Stalin, and the Second World War. In fact, it still exists today. The public division is the All-Russian Monarchist Assembly. But there is also a private portion, which I head."
Lord's gaze tightened on Pashenko. "And the purpose of this Holy Band?"
"The safety of the tsar."
"But there hasn't been a tsar since 1918."
"But there has."
"What are you taking about?"
Pashenko's fingers templed at his lips. "In Alexandra's letter and Lenin's note, you found what we have been missing. I must confess that until the other day, when I read those words, I harbored my own doubts. But now I am sure. An heir survived Yekaterinburg."
Lord shook his head. "You can't be serious, Professor."
"I am. My group was formed shortly after July 1918. My uncle and great uncle were both members of that Holy Band. I was recruited decades ago and have now risen to its leadership. Our purpose is to guard the secret and implement its terms at the appropriate time. But thanks to the communist purges, many of our members died. To ensure security, the Originator made sure no one knew all of the secret's terms. So a large part of
the message vanished, including the starting point. You have now rediscovered that beginning."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you still have the copies?"
He grabbed his jacket and handed Pashenko the folded sheets.
Pashenko motioned. "Here, in Lenin's note. `The situation with Yurovsky is troubling. I do not believe the reports filed from Yekaterinburg were entirely accurate, and the information concerning Felix Yussoupov corroborates that. The mention of Kolya Maks is interesting. I have heard this name before. The village of Starodug has likewise been noted by two other similarly persuaded White Guardsmen.' The information we lost was the name--Kolya Maks--and the village--Starodug. It is the starting point of the quest."
"What quest?" he asked.
"To find Alexie and Anastasia."
Lord sat back in the chair. He was tired, but what this man was saying sent his mind reeling.
Pashenko went on, "When the royal Romanov bodies were finally exhumed in 1991 and later identified, we positively learned that two may have survived the massacre. The remains of Anastasia and Alexie have never been found to this day."
"Yurovsky claimed to have burned them separately," he said.
"What would you have claimed if you had been ordered to kill the imperial family and were two bodies short? You would lie because, otherwise, you would be shot for incompetence. Yurovsky told Moscow what they wanted to hear. But there are enough reports that have surfaced since the Soviet fall to cast great doubt on Yurovsky's declaration."
Pashenko was right. Affidavits gathered from Red Guardsmen and other participants attested that not everyone may have died that July night. Accounts varied from the bayoneting of moaning grand duchesses to the stabbing and rifle-butting of hysterical victims. There were many contradictions. But he also recalled the snippet of testimony he found, apparently from one of the Yekaterinburg guards, dated three months after the murders.
But I realized what was coming. The talk of their fate was clear. Yurovsky made sure we all understood the task at hand. After a while, I started saying to myself that something should be done to let them escape.
He pointed to the papers. "There's another sheet there, Professor. From one of the guards. I didn't show you. You may want to read it."
Pashenko shuffled through