The Romanov Prophecy Page 0,71

loaded onto stretchers fashioned from the tarpaulin. The Four Brothers mine was no more than a hundred paces away and Maks helped carry the stretcher containing the corpse of the tsar.

"Lay them out on the ground, " Yurovsky ordered when they arrived at the clearing.

"I thought I was in charge, " Ermakov said.

"You were, " the commandant made clear.

A fire was started. Each corpse was undressed, the clothing burned. With thirty or so drunken men, the scene was chaotic. But Maks was grateful for the confusion since it helped mask the loss of two victims.

"Diamonds, " one of the men screamed.

The word drew the others.

"Kolya. Come with me, " Yurovsky said, shouldering his way through the crowd.

The men were packed around a female corpse. One of Ermakov's men had discovered another corset filled with jewels. Yurovsky grabbed the diamond out of the man's hand, a Colt pistol gripped in his other.

"There'll be no looting. First man who does dies. Kill me and the committee guarantees retribution. Now do as I say and undress the bodies. Leave anything you find with me. "

"For you to keep?" a voice asked.

"It is not mine nor yours, but the state's. I intend to turn all this over to the Ural Committee. Those are my orders. "

"Fuck you, Jew, " a voice said.

In the flickering light, Maks saw anger flash in Yurovsky's eyes. He knew enough about this sullen man to know that he didn't like being reminded of his heritage. His father was a glazier, his mother a seamstress, ten children between them. He'd grown up poor and hard, becoming a loyal party man after the failed 1905 revolution. He'd been banished to Yekaterinburg for revolutionary activity, but after the February revolt of the previous year, he'd been elected to the Ural Committee, and every day since he'd worked diligently for the party. He was no longer a Jew. He was a loyal communist. A man who took orders and could be depended upon to execute them precisely.

Dawn was breaking over the surrounding poplars.

"You are all dismissed, " Yurovsky loudly said. "Except the men who came with me. "

"You can't do that, " Ermakov yelled.

"Either leave, or I will have you shot. "

Rifles clicked to one side as guns were shouldered. The four from the execution squad had once again heeded the call of their commandant. The remaining group of men seemed to know that resisting would be foolish. Perhaps they might overpower these few, but the Ural Committee would not allow their transgression to go unpunished. Maks was not surprised when the drunken crowd disappeared down the trail.

When they were gone, Yurovsky stuffed his pistol under his belt. "Finish undressing the bodies. "

Maks and two others accomplished the task while two men stood guard. It was hard to tell identities any longer, except for the tsarina, whose size and age helped distinguish her even in death. Maks felt a sickening in his stomach for these people he'd once served.

Two more corsets were found full of jewels. From the tsarina came the most surprising find, an entire pearl belt sewn into the lining of her underwear.

"There are only nine bodies, " Yurovsky suddenly said. "Where is the tsarevich and another of the women?"

No one said a word.

"Bastards. Those filthy stinking bastards, " the commandant said. "They must have hidden them away on the way in, surely thinking something of value could be found. They're probably searching them right now. "

Maks silently heaved a sigh of relief.

"What do we do?" one of the guards asked.

Yurovsky did not hesitate. "Not a damn thing. We report that nine went down into the shaft, two were burned. We'll try to find them when we're through. Is that clear to everyone?"

Maks realized none of the men present, especially Yurovsky, wanted to report that two bodies were unaccounted for. No explanation would spare them the committee's wrath. A collective silence confirmed that they were all in agreement.

More bloodied clothing was tossed into the fire, then nine naked corpses were laid prone beside a dark square in the earth. Maks noticed how the corset laces had left a line of running knots in the dead flesh. The grand duchesses also wore amulets around their necks with a picture of Rasputin and a prayer sewn in. These were yanked off and tossed into the cache pile. He recalled the beauty each of these women had projected in life and was saddened by how none remained in death.

One of the men reached