The Master Craftsman, page 22
“Not necessarily,” Xander replied with a shrug. “We’re the only people who have that poem, and from what we’ve found so far it seems she only wrote that poem inside that one place. Which means, we’re the only people with that single clue. And don’t forget what Zak said. When they were forced to leave the House of Fabergé, no one was ever allowed to go back in. Who knows what could have been left behind.”
She nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said.
Xander held out his arm, his elbow bent so that Ava could grab hold of it. She balked for a moment, the gesture so intimate and casual that it threw her off. Then she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow.
Together they approached the front of 24 Bolshaya Morskaya. She paused for a brief moment to take in the building, the gray façade standing regally before them. So much history haunted the space just beyond those concrete walls. Did the people who walked by here every day know it? Did they feel the weight of the past the way that she did?
It was why she’d ultimately chosen to study history, despite her mother’s admonitions that she’d never be able to do anything with that degree. She had always been enamored with the stories of others. It started when she was little, and she read the Little House on the Prairie books by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Suddenly, the past came alive inside her mind, and she found herself wishing she could visit it for just a little while.
Somehow, Ava knew that she’d always felt the importance of history more than most kids. She just got it. And it never made sense to her why, until this one, singular moment standing in front of Fabergé’s old building. She was made to chase history. She just never knew she might catch a piece of it on the way.
“You ready?” Xander asked.
Drawing in a deep breath, Ava turned and flashed him a smile. “Lead the way,” she said.
“Zdravstvuyte,” Xander said, holding out his hand to the woman who answered the door. He went on to introduce himself in Russian, then pointed at Ava, who flashed as sincere a smile as she could.
The woman nodded, then pulled the door open wider to let them in. She asked Xander a question, and he shook his head, answering in such a genial manner that the woman’s face broke into a broad smile.
What do you know, Ava thought. He’s charming in more than one language.
“You not speak Russian?” the woman asked, turning to Ava and taking her by surprise.
“Oh . . . um . . . no, I don’t. I’m sorry,” she answered.
“Is okay. I speak in English little bit.” She held up her thumb and forefinger, slightly separated, to emphasize her point, then tapped her head above her ear. “I understand much better.”
Ava nodded.
The woman looked back and forth between Ava and Xander, both dressed so hip and modern with their trendy hair and clothes. Ava resisted the urge to smooth out her red wig, trusting it looked natural and in place.
“My name is Marina,” the woman said. “I live in building and help to rent apartments.” She searched for her next words while Ava studied her.
Marina looked to be older than Ava suspected she really was. Her face was lined and worn but laced with kindness, as though she had experienced all the pain of life but had chosen not to let it make her bitter. She wore a wide dress over her stout frame, her brown salt-and-pepper hair pulled into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. A few strands fell around her face, and Ava imagined that in her youth she had been quite pretty.
“You are new married?” Marina asked, looking from Xander to Ava.
“We are,” Xander said, grabbing Ava around her waist and pulling her into him.
Ava tried to relax as she offered Marina a stiff smile.
“Is very nice,” Marina said. “Very pretty wife,” she said, giving Xander a little wink.
He laughed and leaned forward. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”
“Please, come in. This is only apartment for rent right now.”
“It’s lovely,” Ava said as they stepped into the first room. The apartment was large and airy, plainly decorated and bare. Two large windows stood on the opposite wall, letting in enough natural light to make the space feel quite open. A tapestry hung on the wall, making Ava think of Zak and his apartment at home. She smiled at the thought.
A short divan sat between the windows, and on the opposite side was a light brown armoire with the cabinets open to reveal a small TV.
“Is very nice apartment here,” Marina was saying as she guided them through the sitting room into the kitchen. “Very quiet from street, and central to all business. You do business in Petersburg?” She looked at Xander.
“I have a job that allows me to work remote from anywhere I like. It’s mostly online programming and whatnot,” Xander replied. “Molly and I”—he glanced at Ava—“wanted to start our marriage off with an adventure, and we’ve both been so fascinated with the history of Russia, so we decided we’d start it here.”
Marina nodded, the expression on her face knowing, almost as though she couldn’t imagine why anyone would consider any other place more worthy of beginning their lives than St. Petersburg.
“Is very good choice,” she said. “And this apartment very interesting place for you to begin. There is exciting history that happened in these very rooms.”
“Oh really?” Xander said. “What is it?”
“This building was House of Fabergé.” Marina stood up taller, clearly pleased to be able to offer the Americans a little taste of her knowledge.
“Like, Fabergé eggs?” Ava asked.
Marina nodded. “Yes, very famous eggs made right here in this building.”
“Inside this apartment?” Xander asked.
“No, workshop was upstairs. This apartment was showroom and Fabergé’s office. Come, I show you bedroom that used to be place where Fabergé worked.”
They followed Marina down a narrow hallway that felt much too enclosed for Ava’s liking. Still the apartment was very large. Ava wondered how much an apartment like this rented for, given its size and location.
At the end of the hall were two open doors, one on the right and one on the left. Marina guided them into a plain room with white walls and the same wood flooring as the rest of the apartment. A full-size bed sat against the wall, with two floor lamps on either side. A small dresser stood on the opposite side of the room next to a door that Ava assumed led to a closet. A big window looked outside to a small garden area on a patio.
“Is very nice room, yes?” Marina asked. “Very simple and quiet. Perfect for young love.” She flashed a toothy grin as Ava shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Xander laughed good-naturedly as though he and Marina had always been friends and such a joke was not at all awkward or inappropriate.
“It’s great,” he said enthusiastically.
“And what does young lady think?” Marina asked.
“Oh, um, yes. It’s . . . uh . . . lovely,” Ava stammered. “Um, Marina, can you tell me about these floors? They’re very nice. Are they original?”
“Of course,” Marina answered with a nod. “Is little original here because building is so old. All has been repaired and fixed. But the floors”—she tapped her foot twice—“they keep floors to help us preserve history.”
“Interesting.” Ava tossed a surreptitious look at Xander.
“Come, I show you more,” Marina said with a wave of her hand.
Xander shot Ava a raised eyebrow and gave her a quick thumbs-up behind Marina’s back as they followed her down the hall.
“You see bathroom here. Is very nice,” Marina said, waving her hand to the open door on the right. “And here is coat closet.”
She pulled open a door that stood just across the hall from the main sitting room. The closet was narrow and long. Marina pulled a string on an overhead light and lit the enclosed space up to reveal two shelves that stretched the length of the closet. Under those were long bars for hanging coats. Two thin blankets and an extra pillow were stacked on the shelves.
“This space very interesting. Builders made closet to be bigger because they say this is spot where Fabergé’s salesmen stood to greet customers.”
“Wow,” Ava murmured. She leaned down to touch the floor. The wood was definitely aged, dark and worn. There was a heavy grain to the flooring, and Ava could tell it was warped in certain places. She stood back up.
“Old flooring is so beautiful,” she said.
Marina nodded. “Yes.”
Ava got the impression that Marina would say anything she could to rent this apartment out to Jack and Molly Andrews. They stepped out of the closet and walked back into the sitting room.
“Well, and what do you think?” Marina asked. “Is this nice place to start your life?”
Ava turned to look at Xander, who gave a little shrug in reply. “Could we have a few moments alone in the apartment?” she asked, shifting her gaze back to Marina. “I’d like to just sit here and feel the energy.”
Marina nodded her head knowingly, as if that was the most reasonable statement she’d heard all day. “Yes, of course. Very smart. Very wise.” She flashed Xander a wide smile, her crooked front teeth exposed. “Take your time. I just go upstairs and have my chai. When ready, come to find me. I am first door at top of stairs.” She nodded at them both, then turned and walked out of the apartment, the door clicking shut behind her.
Ava turned to Xander. “So . . .”
“Right.” He looked around. “Where to start.”
“I’ll start in the closet,” Ava said.
Xander nodded. “I’ll poke around the rest of the place.”
They split up, with Ava walking quickly to the closet and pulling open the door. She stood for a moment, staring into the space, watching as tiny flecks of dust danced in the beam of light that radiated out in a fluorescent glow. She ducked inside and got onto her hands and knees, feeling gently along the boards, running her fingers over the seams. About halfway through, she sat up and let out a laugh.
“This is ridiculous,” she said out loud. “What would we possibly find here after all these years?”
Xander appeared in the doorway. “What is it?”
Ava turned to him with a shake of her head. “I was just sitting here thinking how silly it is that I’m on my hands and knees looking for some clue that clearly would have been found by now if it was here.”
Xander stepped through the doorway and held his hand out to Ava, pulling her to her feet. The two of them were now sandwiched together between the narrow walls, Ava’s chin right at Xander’s chest. Her heart thumped as she looked up and met Xander’s eyes.
“Well, it seems we’re a bit stuck, doesn’t it?” he said. His voice was softer, a little husky, and his accent almost intoxicating. Instead of pulling away, Ava found herself leaning in. Xander lifted his hand and brushed the red hair out of Ava’s eyes, running his finger down her cheek and settling his hand beneath her chin. She tilted her face up, eyes drifting closed as she felt him draw near.
With a start, he pulled back, his hand leaving her chin and going to his ear. Ava’s eyes flew open, and she stared at him in surprise and embarrassment.
“Zak, mate,” Xander said. “What was that? Repeat what you just said again.”
Suddenly, Ava remembered that Zak and her mother could see and hear everything they did through the cameras on their clothes and the piece in Xander’s ear. Her face grew hot as she pushed away from Xander, stumbling back into the hallway outside the closet, hands shaking and throat tight with humiliation.
“Interesting, man,” Xander said. “You found that where?”
Ava took in a deep breath and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Got it. We’ll check right now,” Xander said.
He turned to Ava and cleared his throat awkwardly. “So,” he began.
“What’d Zak say?” Ava asked, quickly directing him away from any mention of what almost happened between the two of them.
Xander stared at her for a beat, then continued. “He was going through the files under Fabergé’s name, and he came across the specifications for hidden levers and spring release mechanisms that Fabergé used in his eggs. They were almost computerized, the way that he was able to get things to move around and spring open. It’s what made them so interesting and fascinating at the time.”
Ava thought of the Swan Egg, in which the small platinum jewel-encrusted swan “floated” on a sea of aquamarine through a spring mechanism designed by Fabergé.
“What does that have to do with us?”
“Zak wondered if Fabergé would have used a similar type of mechanism to hide something within the boards of his home.”
Ava looked back inside the closet. “The secret beneath the boards.”
She stepped around Xander and went back into the closet, sliding her fingers along the seams of the boards again, this time pressing down and releasing pressure repeatedly. Xander watched from behind, careful to stay out of her way.
Slowly, she made her way down the first seam to the back wall, then slid her hand over to the next seam and pressed down. On and on she went down the length of the closet. As she reached the corner farthest back, she looked over her shoulder at Xander and shook her head.
“Nothing in here,” she said. As the words disappeared into the space between them, she felt a pinch on her fingers and looked down at the floor. She pushed again, the board moving just slightly. Ava narrowed her eyes and leaned into it a little more, pushing harder.
She saw the slightest separation between the two boards.
“No way,” she said.
Xander ducked inside the closet and leaned over her. “What is it?”
“Could be nothing. It very well could be old wood that’s warped and separated with time, but . . .”
“It could be more than that,” Xander said.
“Exactly.”
“Most people would have just assumed that it was old flooring acting up.”
Ava pushed again, feeling the give beneath her fingers grow more pronounced.
Placing the heel of her hand on top of the wood, she began to push it up and down, moving her hand backward and forward as she did so. The wood bowed and cricked beneath her, like aging knees being forced to stand after sitting for much too long. With a grunt, Ava gave one last push. The floorboard under her hand slid forward, then dipped down a quarter inch. Ava turned to look at Xander with wide eyes. She pushed the board to the right, sliding it easily beneath the board on top and creating a hole large enough to fit both of her hands inside.
“I do not believe this,” she murmured.
“Ava,” Xander whispered, his breath hot in her hair. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone, swiping down and flipping on the flashlight. Holding it over the black hole, he and Ava peered inside.
“It’s pretty deep,” Ava said.
“Can you see inside?”
“Not far.” Taking a deep breath, she reached tentatively into the hole. “This is freaky. What if there are monster spiders down here just waiting to pounce on me?”
“Like gatekeepers of the treasure?” Xander asked. “Soviet spiders tasked with guarding the secrets of the past? I like it.”
“Yeah, you make fun of me, but it won’t be funny when one of them bites me, and I turn into a giant spider. And then I eat you.”
“Man, it must be fun inside your head.”
Ava grimaced, her hand hovering just past the edge of the hole. “Okay, I’m going in,” she said. She closed her eyes and leaned down, reaching farther inside. Her hand hit the ground, and she yelped, pulling back briefly.
“What’s wrong? What was it?” Xander moved the light around in an attempt to see better.
“Nothing. Sorry,” Ava said. “It just scared me when I hit the bottom. Hold on.”
She reached back inside, a little more slowly, moving her fingers back and forth until she felt the bottom again. She winced.
“It feels gritty,” she said.
“Move your hand around and see if you find anything. How big is the space?”
Heart thumping, Ava moved her hand around in a circular motion. “Please don’t be spiders. Please don’t be spiders,” she whispered. Her fingertips grazed across something cold toward the back corner of the hole. She reached farther in, now laying almost on her stomach, and grasped the corner of what felt like a metal box, so cold it hurt her fingertips to linger on it for long. She pulled her arms out and brushed her hands.
“There’s a box down there,” she said. “But I can’t reach it. My arms aren’t long enough.” She shifted and shimmied up to her feet, awkwardly sliding past Xander. She took the phone from his hand. “You try.”
Xander lowered to his knees and put his hand inside the floorboards. “You’re right,” he said with a grimace. “This is a little unsettling.”
“Thank you! Look out for the Soviet spiders.”
Xander leaned forward more and shifted his hand back until he felt the box. He grasped it tightly and pulled it forward until it was just beneath the opening.
“It’s too wide to get out of this slot,” he said, peering inside.
“What if you stand it up on its side?” Ava asked.
Xander nodded. He reached back in and tried to grip the sides of the box to turn it upward, but his fingers slipped. It took several tries, but he finally got a firm enough hold on the box that he was able to shift it to its side.
Ava peered over his shoulder at the box. “Here, let me try again,” she said. “I think I can get it out now.”
They switched places again, Ava dropping to her knees and gingerly reaching inside the gap with both hands. She grabbed either side of the box and slowly began pulling it upward, ignoring the way it felt like ice on her fingers. At the opening, the sides of the box scraped against the wood, the space growing tighter and more difficult to navigate.
“I’m almost there,” Ava said breathlessly.
When she got the box high enough over the ledge of the flooring, Xander reached over her shoulder and helped, the two of them working together until it popped free and landed with a metallic thud on the floor in front of Ava’s knees.
