Chapter Text
The day would have been lovely, if the wind had not been so persistent. Anna Viktorovna and Alice Lawrence sat facing the bright red-and-white building, the main study hall at St. Petersburg University, a bit chilled, but fortified by the sun that warmed their exposed faces. The sky was a signature blue, uninterrupted by wispy clouds. Inquisitive reddish-brown squirrels scurried about, scampering between the trees.
Although it had been twenty-four hours since Anna accepted the assignment offered by Colonel Varfolomeyev, she was still arguing with herself. The charge from Colonel Varfolomeyev, one that gave rise to feelings of excitement and pride associated with the prospect of uncovering useful evidence for the ministry was tinged with an equal amount of heavy guilt at betraying Yakov Platonovich’s trust. She almost ran back to the colonel’s office on at least two occasions to beg off on the assignment, so anxious was she about the effect the required secrecy would have on Yakov, once he found out. And she was sure he would eventually find out.
Everytime Anna decided she could not go forward with it, her rational mind would provide ample evidence to convince her otherwise. The colonel was right. Yakov Platonovich would never have questioned the ethics in such a situation. But then he’d been at this counterintelligence game far longer than she had. But this morning, she had realized why, despite her fear of disappointing or angering Yakov, she needed to pursue the investigation. It was Yakov’s blind acceptance of Nina Neginskaya as a woman who was constantly misunderstood and in need of rescuing. Lady Neginskaya would continue to play her game until the abundance of proof against her finally dislodged Shtolman’s rosy perceptions.
“You have been working with Colonel Varfolomeyev and Captain Drotzey since you left Zatonsk?” Anna asked her friend.
“Not at first,” Alice answered. “I moved around a lot - from safe houses to homes of trusted friends of the Varfolomeyevs; they wanted to ensure that Mr. Uvakov and whoever he was working with were not still after me.”
Alice delivered this in such a relaxed fashion, it took Anna a minute to absorb the enormity of what she said.
“Oh, Alice! How terribly frightening!” Anna reacted. Alice gave Anna a kind smile.
“Anna, you forget what my life was like before I arrived in St. Petersburg,” Alice reminded her.
Alice Lawrence, the daughter and cryptographer for her father, had been holed up in a room hardly bigger than a water closet for seven years and threatened repeatedly, before breaking free and landing in an asylum. Her subsequent relocation to Prince Razumovsky’s estate had hardly been much better, aside from the frequent visits from Anna and Dr. Miltz. Razumovsky was determined to use Alice’s ciphering knowledge for his own purposes and to eliminate her if that was not possible.
“I help them with deciphering once in a while,” Alice continued. “And now, they want me to play go-between with you and Internal Affairs. Your role is very hush-hush. You shouldn’t be seen going in-and-out of the colonel’s office on the regular. Rumors will start. So, communications now go through me, since we already have an established personal relationship.” Alice smiled again, thankful that Anna was her friend.
“And as my first official duty, I hereby give you this document,” Alice stated regally as she handed Anna a small envelope. Anna unfolded the paper inside. It was a letter signed by the colonel and imprinted with the seal of the tsar’s security force that instructed whoever read it to release all requested documents, evidence, and the like to Miss Anna Mironova, special agent of the Ministry of the Interior, and to provide her with their full support.
Anna Viktorovna folded the missive and tucked it in her compact mirror - the same mirror she had dropped near the Don River in Zatonsk on the day she discovered the body of Tatiana Kuleshova. Can this really be happening, she thought. Two years ago I was a meddling wannabe detective getting in Yakov’s way, and today I’m entrusted with uncovering the clandestine operations of a devious spy. The juxtaposition was surreal.