“At least the wonderful invention of the bumper is good for something!”

“But how will we fasten it there?”

“It’ll fall off!”

“Let’s put it inside a cushion!”

“A cushion?”

“Yes, a nice plump cushion, that way it will fit wherever we put it, and we’ll stuff it with explosives.” The idea of putting a bomb inside a cushion would occur only to a seamstress. “A well-made, pretty pillow that looks like a gift for the tsar.”

“Embroidered with the words ‘Our Father.’”

“We’ll light the fuse, which we’ll run through a buttonhole, before we plant it.”

“How will you keep the fuse from blowing out when it reaches the cushion?”

“It won’t blow out, the cushion will catch fire, it will feed the flames.”

“The automobile will start moving again, the bomb will explode a few seconds later, and farewell tyrant!”

“We’ll set Russia free!”

Anyone with a little common sense would realize it’s an absurd idea, but with the cushion hiding a bomb in their minds, and their plan to attach it to the automobile the tsar will be traveling in, Clementine and Vladimir set to work.

41. The Boxes

41. The Boxes

The wind blows constantly in St. Petersburg; it rests only six days each year. Today is one of those days: there is no wind when the portrait of Anna Karenina wends its way to the museum.

The Winter Palace has sent the prince’s dark-green Mercedes limousine to collect the latest addition to the imperial collection. Mikhailov, the painter’s heir (the one who’s in the ranks of the secret police), doesn’t want the painting to travel unnoticed, and he’s pulled some strings; he knows “that kerosene contraption,” as the tsar calls it, is his majesty’s favorite, and people will notice. The portrait of Anna Karenina will travel by car.

Mikhailov has circulated the rumor about the automobile’s journey through St. Petersburg, altering it, or, if you prefer, taking some poetic license. “A treasure for the tsar will be transported by Prince Orlov’s automobile today….” To spread the news, he plants it in a variety of circles and feeds it to a journalist who always has time for him; he knows he’ll be intrigued—though Mikhailov suspects he won’t be interested in the portrait itself. He always provides some facts, practically writing the articles for him, but this one he’s embellished to ensure his interest.

So the journalist heads out in hot pursuit but is disappointed when he sees Prince Orlov is not at the wheel, and there’s no sign of the tsar either. He follows the vehicle anyway; since its cargo is precious to the tsar, perhaps there is something there for his piece.

• • •

The museum carpenters have made a bespoke wooden box to the exact measurements of the painting. It has guide rails inside where the edges of the frame will slide in, so the canvas won’t so much as graze the polished sides of the box, which are lined with thick felt.