The Romanov Ransom

25

The once splendid Königsberg castle had completely burned after the Allied bombing in 1944, leaving only the thick walls. After the war ended, Königsberg was annexed by the Soviet Union, renamed Kaliningrad, and the castle remains were leveled by a government that wanted to erase any reminders of its Prussian past.

It was this last fact that made the presence of a groundskeeper a bit of a surprise — at least in Remi’s mind. There wasn’t much left of the grounds to keep, unless one happened to be an archaeologist. The empty rectangular courtyard was now surrounded by gray boards blocking off the area from the public. A large section of the boarded wall had fallen and a temporary chain-link fence stood in its place, allowing a view into the castle property and, at the far end, the recent excavations.

Sam checked his watch as the three stood on the sidewalk, waiting. “He did say meet here near the parking lot?”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a taxi pulled up. Remi saw a gray-haired man holding a cane get out, pay the driver, then hobble in their direction. “That’s got to be him.”

“Miron Pushkaryov?” Sam asked as he approached.

“You must be the Fargos,” he said with a thick Russian accent. “And Sergei. Forgive me for being late. I stopped by to see Andrei before I came out here.”

“No worries,” Remi said. “You’re here. That’s what counts.”

“But I do worry. Ever since Andrei wrote that book, he’s had many things go wrong. I wanted to make sure you were who you said you were. Therefore, it was necessary to do so in person.” The man placed both hands on the brass head of his cane, eyeing them. “Andrei mentioned what happened to you at the museum. So you see, they’re still watching him. They’re probably watching me. They may even be watching you.”

Sam scanned the vast parking lot that ran the length of the castle grounds, not seeing anything suspicious. “Were you followed here?”

“I hope not.” He gave Remi a thorough appraisal. “Andrei never mentioned how beautiful you are.”

“You’re very kind, Mr. Pushkaryov.”

“Merely observant. And, please, call me Miron,” he said, then turned to Sam. “What is it you’re looking for, Mr. Fargo?”

“Information.”

“On?”

“The treasures that might have been stored at Königsberg castle.”

“You mean the treasures that were taken from the castle after the bombing?”

“Precisely,” Sam said. “What is it you know?”

“Only what my grandfather told me. The most valuable treasures were kept belowground, out of the public eye. They survived the Allied bombing and remained there up until Hitler ordered their removal.”

“The Amber Room?” Remi asked. “Any chance it survived and was moved?”

“We can always hope. Unfortunately, recent excavations of the subterranean levels have turned up bits of amber…” He nodded toward the castle grounds, his smile bittersweet. “Still, being that my grandfather told me tales of a line of trucks waiting in the courtyard to be loaded at the end of the war, one never knows. Perhaps they got the Amber Room out in time. But I was under the impression that you were interested in something else entirely.”

“We are,” Sam said. “Have you heard of the Romanov Ransom?”

“Of it, yes. What was in it…?” He shrugged. “I don’t precisely know.”

“Is there anything you can tell us?” Remi asked.

“A bit. My grandfather remembered seeing Nazi officers loading crates from the castle onto numerous trucks one night. Two officers inspected each truck, then removed four smaller chests from one. They opened the chests to see what they contained, then carried them to a different vehicle. The last truck in the line.”

He stared through the chain-link toward the excavation site, taking a deep breath, then letting out a sigh. “So long ago… My grandfather used to bring me here when I was a boy, telling me what the castle looked like before the war. The pictures. They don’t do it justice.” He lifted his cane, pointing with it. “Over there, you can see the fence surrounding the excavation where some of the treasure was believed to have been stored. And over there is where the trucks pulled up and the men loaded everything from the castle’s remains. I loved hearing the tale from my grandfather.” His soft smile faded when he looked back at them. “As a boy, I dreamed of following the trail that my grandfather had seen on their map. I was going to find the treasure.”

“Map?” Remi asked.

“I assumed that’s why you were here. You had to have found the map.”

A loud screeching of tires caught their attention. Sam spun around as a blue sedan sped through the adjoining parking lot toward them. Bright sunlight glinted off the black-tinted windows as the car slowed and the rear window rolled down — and someone pointed a handgun in their direction.