The Property of a Lady - Elizabeth Adler [239]
Missie nodded sadly. “Why must they lie?”
“It was agreed that it was the most diplomatic ending to the episode. Russia is embarrassed and has apologized to the Turkish government.”
“Poor Alexei,” she said, tears shining in her eyes. “He has lost his only son.”
“TASS also reported that Sergei Solovsky has resigned from his position in the Politburo and has retired with his wife to his country dacha. The Soviet people mourn for him in his sorrow.” He hesitated and added, “They are known to be a devoted couple, and we can only hope that they find comfort in each other.”
“I should have told Anna,” she said tiredly. “Maybe then none of this would have happened. Valentin would still be alive and Anna would not have suffered these terrible events.” She shook her head slowly. “I thought I was doing the best for her. I didn’t want to burden her with an old woman’s fears.”
“If it were not for you, Missie, America would have been on the losing scale in the balance of power.”
“It’s strange how the gypsy prophecy came true after all,” she said, half to herself. “She told me a great responsibility would fall on my shoulders, but I never knew quite how great until now.” She sighed. “And what about Ferdie Arnhaldt?”
“He was a megalomaniac, born into a family obsessed with their own power. First Eddie Arnhaldt wanted the mines because he was sick of paying Russia what he considered a ransom for the rights to them. I think he intended Azaylee to marry his son Augie as soon as she was old enough, and then no one could have disputed the Arnhaldts’ claim. But Ferdie went a step further in his madness. He was prepared to kill anyone who stood in his way. Including Genie.”
“Michael Kazahn saved her,” she said. “He is a reckless and very brave man—just like his father.”
“Genie tells me that the Kazahns want you to go and live with them in Turkey.”
She nodded. “Michael telephoned. He wants to send his plane to fetch me; he has prepared a suite at his house, or I could have the yali and just sit and dream my days away on the terrace overlooking the Bosphorus. I can even take Nurse Milgrim if I want.”
“And?”
She laughed. “I’m too old now for such changes. I am happy here with the lawns and the trees and the mallards outside my window. And besides, I have Anna.”
Nurse Milgrim put her head around the door and said, “It’s almost six, Missie. Time for the program.”
Missie reached for the remote and switched on the television. There was an announcement and then the cameras switched to Genie, looking pale but attractive in a black dress and pearls, her blond hair pulled back into a velvet bow. Cal thought she still looked like a girl who would smell deliciously of Chanel No. 5, but she wasn’t the same person he had watched on TV last time. She was no longer the jaunty upwardly mobile girl reporter on her way to a great career and what she was saying bore no resemblance to the snappy “journalese” of her previous reports. There was a sad look in her blue eyes and a faint tremor in her voice as she began to speak, and it was obvious she cared deeply about what she was saying.
“This story began long ago,” she said quietly, “in a fairytale house called Varishnya, lived in by a fairy-tale family. The father was a handsome prince and the mother the most beautiful of all princesses, and they adored their two small children, Alexei and Xenia. And with them in this wonderful house lived their friend, a young English girl….”
America watched, spellbound, as she plotted the story, showing photographs of the beautiful Ivanoffs, careful to say how everyone, including the son, Alexei, had been murdered and the only ones to escape were Xenia and the grandmother with their friend, the young English girl.
Tears stood in Missie’s eyes as she heard Genie