Odessa Sea (Dirk Pitt 24)

It didn’t take them long to filter through the photos, most of which captured mundane administrative documents. Then they came to one marked Proposed Treaty of Petrograd. Trehorne skimmed the three-page draft, then passed it to Perlmutter with a shaky hand.

“Take a look at this, Julien. Quite remarkable. I think I may require a drink.” He rose to locate his bottle of Balvenie.

Perlmutter began reading the document aloud. It was a draft copy of the treaty transferring Russian mineral rights to Great Britain in exchange for securing the Romanov family wealth. The room remained silent as Perlmutter read to the end.

“That’s unbelievable,” Dirk said. “The Romanovs shipping their gold to the Allies is one thing, but assigning a piece of their mineral rights for a century to come . . . ?”

“Tsar Nicholas must have considered it a last-ditch effort to save the crown,” Trehorne said. “Turning to Britain for help wouldn’t have been unusual. After all, King George V and Nicholas II were cousins. But it is still a remarkable proposal.”

“Could the treaty still be enforced after all these years?” Summer asked.

“I’m sure an army of the Queen’s best attorneys would try to find out, particularly if they could beat the expiration date,” Trehorne said. “With billions potentially at stake, there would certainly be an incentive to try.”

“But that’s only if the deal was signed,” Perlmutter said, “and the Romanov gold was actually transferred to Great Britain.”

Trehorne retrieved four glasses and poured a tall shot of Scotch in each. Downing his own glass, he picked up the first photo and studied it again.

“It’s dated February tenth, 1917,” he said. “That’s two days before Hunt set foot on the Canterbury in Liverpool and sailed to Archangel. Seems likely he took it to the Tsar to sign. I found a Foreign Office report in another file that Hunt did in fact have a meeting with Nicholas, but no details were provided.”

“There seems to be no record of such a treaty,” Perlmutter said, “so Nicholas must never have signed it.”

“I disagree,” Dirk said. “I think the treaty was in fact signed and that Hunt was returning to England with a copy on the Canterbury.”

“No way to prove that,” Trehorne said.

“We already have the proof,” Dirk said, “and that’s with the Russians. They arrived at the wreck site of the Canterbury, claimed it was theirs, and proceeded to blast it apart.”

“They might have believed the ship was carrying gold,” Summer said.

Dirk shook his head. “There’s three reasons why they didn’t. First, they set their explosives to blow up the ship’s superstructure. Any quantity of gold would have been carried in the lower holds, so they should have been blasting open the deck or a side hull.”

“They may have been working their way there,” she said, “or just wanted to eliminate us first.”

“True, and they might still be there blasting it open as we speak. But I think not, for the second reason. The Russian on the submersible who handled the demolition is now here in London. He’s tracking our movements and stealing historical documents from the National Archives.” He tapped the stack of photos.

“There’s logic to what you say,” Perlmutter said. “The Russians may have blown up the Canterbury’s superstructure because that’s where Hunt would have been berthed. If he was carrying a signed treaty copy in a diplomatic pouch, or even a heavy leather valise, there is at least a possibility it could have survived the sinking.” He looked at Dirk and Summer. “They know you two were suspicious about the wreck and may have been trying to circumvent your discovery of the treaty.”

“And the associated Romanov treasure that was to be sent to England,” Trehorne said.

“Indeed,” Perlmutter said.

Summer looked to her brother. “You said you had three reasons. I counted only two.”

“Our encounter with Viktor Mansfield today. Do you remember what he said when you mentioned the Canterbury’s gold?”

“He said there is no more gold aboard her. But if the treaty was signed and no gold was shipped on the Canterbury, then where did it go?”

“Probably captured by the Bolsheviks, along with the rest of the Romanov assets, when they overran St. Petersburg a short time later,” Perlmutter said.

Trehorne cleared his throat. “Perhaps not.” He held up the final photograph. The image depicted a typewritten letter from Hunt to an Admiral Ballard. The letter was red-lined, with a few handwritten word changes, indicating a draft copy.

“Please read it to us, Charles,” Perlmutter said.

“It’s a letter dated February eleventh, 1917, addressed to Rear Admiral George Ballard, Commander, Malta Dockyard,” Trehorne said.

“Dear Admiral.

“With approval from First Sea Lord Jellico, please station HMS Sentinel off Epanohoron Cape by 27 February, 06:00, for possible rendezvous with Pelikan. Transport to Liverpool via G to follow, at RN discretion.