“Distress call received from the village of Kirvenia at . . .” I scowled at the page. “The original time has been scratched out and 10:00 AM written in above it.”
“Yes,” Kon said. “I find that odd for several reasons. First, why would you scratch out a recorded time? That's not acceptable in military records. Second, what kind of distress call is that punctual? I mean, right at ten? That doesn't seem likely. If you flip through this, you'll see that everything else has random times recorded.” He pointed at an entry further up the page. “Even the changing of the guard, something that should be done on the hour, was recorded at 7:57 AM. And third, why weren't the attackers noted?”
“Is that procedure?”
“Usually, if you're going to keep a record, you keep a concise but thorough one. Military men especially like concise thoroughness. But all we see here is the distress call and the time the King sent his soldiers to help. There isn't even a note of when the call was reported to the King.”
I stared at the page. May 1988. I may not know the name of the village I was born in, but I knew when it was destroyed. At least, approximately. “This is the attack on my village.”
“You're sure?”
“It happened in May. I remember there were flowers everywhere. Overflowing our garden. It was my mother's favorite time of year.” I winced. “I still can't stand the sight of flowers. Any kind of flower.”
“I'm so sorry, Misha.” Konstantin stroked my cheek. Then he frowned and looked down at the book. “Give me a second.” Konstantin flipped the pages, scanning them rapidly. “I don't see any other attacks that month or even in the previous and subsequent months. You're right, this must be the attack that killed your family.”
“Kon, I remember most of that day,” I whispered. “I recall it vividly.”
He put the book aside and took my hand. “Tell me.”
“They came before dawn. I was still abed and, as a child, I was an early riser. I remember my mother waking me, her voice frantic. My father was gathering his hunting guns, my older brother helping him. There is no way that a distress call was made that late in the morning. By ten, they were all dead.”
Kon tapped the entry. “This isn't a mistake, it's a cover-up. Someone fucked up, or worse, they deliberately held back on reporting that distress call until they knew it would be too late to save the village.” He let go of my hand to lift the book. “The guard who took the distress call had to initial it. AV.” He flipped to the front of the book where a list of guards supplied their rank and the initials they used for recording. “Here he is; AV is Andrei Matveyovich Volkov.”
“Andrei?!” I grabbed the book from him and read it for myself. “Fuck me.”
“You know him?”
“Yes, and so do you. Volkov is Master Andrei's family name.”
“The Master Librarian?”
“The same man who told us there were no previous birth records for the castle.”
“And the man who asked the King to have Timofey's body moved.”
“It's Andrei! Kon, we've got our murderer!”
“Take a breath. This is proof of Andrei's involvement in a possible conspiracy, but it's not proof of murder.”
“But the fact that one of the victims has this proof—”
“Yes, it's most likely Andrei. But before we accuse him, we need to make certain that he can't wriggle free.”
“We could at least bring this to the attention of the King and have Andrei arrested for failing to report the distress call on time.”
Konstantin rubbed a hand over his face. “As much as it would be good to have Andrei in custody while we investigate his part in the murders, if we bring this to Nikolay, he will pass the information on to his investigators, and they may locate evidence proving that Andrei is the murderer before we do.”
“Oh. I hadn't thought of that.”
“Let's replace the letters and jewelry. If the King's men come looking, they won't know that we found Milana's stash before they did.”
“Good idea.” I gathered up the jewelry and letters and stuck the lot back in the wardrobe, then replaced the panel. “You've got the book?”
Kon tapped the breast of his leather jacket and it made a hollow sound.
“Good, let's get out of here.”
My thoughts raced as we left Lady Milana's chambers and hurried through the hallways. “I wonder who her lover was?” S could be many men.”
