Written on the Wind (The Blackstone Legacy #2)(60)
Dimitri led Dr. Seaman upstairs to their suite, where he and Natalia cleared the remnants of their breakfast from the table so they could speak. Poppy had no interest in meeting the adventurous physician and took herself off to go shopping. Once seated at the tea table, Dr. Seaman explained how he had been on a routine assignment to observe Japanese medical innovations when a trio of Russian soldiers arrived in Tokyo, carrying tales of a shocking atrocity.
“One of the soldiers told me he could have walked across the river on the bodies of the dead,” Dr. Seaman said. “He took advantage of the chaos to desert the army. He said he would rather live a life in exile than carry out those orders. The other two soldiers witnessed the events as well.”
Dimitri’s breakfast curdled in his stomach as memories rose to the surface. The stench of that day and the drone of flies buzzing in the air would haunt him forever. Those three soldiers in Japan could confirm what he’d witnessed. He bowed his head. Thank you, God, for the bravery of those soldiers.
Dr. Seaman continued speaking. “I submitted a report of what I’d heard to the Department of State, but it didn’t go far. The only evidence I had was the word of three deserters. But if a Russian aristocrat can confirm their account with an eyewitness testimony? This time the report will be taken more seriously.”
“Will it be enough to pressure the czar into honoring the treaty with the Chinese?” Natalia asked.
“Count Cassini can answer that question better than I can,” Dr. Seaman replied, then turned his attention to Dimitri. “Count Cassini is fiercely loyal to Czar Nicholas. They depend on each other to maintain an idealized image of Russian strength and stability. You can throw a wrench into their illusion by revealing how they tried to humiliate you for daring to speak the truth. Surprise them. Go on the offense by walking into the highest halls of government and proclaiming your experience with a megaphone. If Count Cassini senses the Americans are losing trust in the Russians, he will scramble to repair the damage and provide cover for the czar.”
Dimitri met Natalia’s eyes across the table. “Do you believe we can gather enough people in the government to pressure Count Cassini to use his influence on our behalf?”
“I know we can,” she said in a voice brimming with confidence.
For the first time since his trial, Dimitri was no longer ashamed of what had happened to him, but was instead ready to turn the tables on the czar and go on the attack.
Natalia was amazed by the speed at which Dr. Seaman’s plan gathered momentum. The doctor had connections in the military, the government, the press, and high society. He knew which reporter would write sympathetic newspaper articles and which Washington socialite could host a high-profile banquet in honor of a daring Russian aristocrat.
In short order, Dimitri was invited to testify before a congressional committee on Far Eastern affairs. Six congressmen sat on one side of the polished mahogany table while Dr. Seaman and Dimitri sat opposite them. The committee members appeared spellbound as Dimitri reported what he’d witnessed at the Amur River and the harsh retaliation he endured after refusing to participate.
Natalia had an excellent view of the proceedings from a seat in the gallery above the committee room. Dimitri was flawlessly groomed and attired, but that couldn’t entirely mask his gaunt frame or the hollows beneath his cheekbones. For all his fine manners, he was less than a month past the harrowing ordeal of his escape, making his testimony all the more compelling.
After his congressional presentation, Dimitri left the committee room, and reporters swarmed around him in the hallway, pelting him with questions. They were far less mannerly than the congressmen. Instead of international treaties, they wanted to know what Dimitri ate in the wilderness, where he slept, and what it was like to live on the run from the czar. Natalia hugged the back wall, her heart bursting with pride as she watched Dimitri joke and banter with the journalists.
She wasn’t able to accompany Dimitri to his private meeting with the secretary of state, but he recounted the entire meeting for her that evening as they dined in the Willard Hotel’s impressive dining room.
“Secretary Hay is not an admirer of Count Cassini,” Dimitri said, twirling a crystal goblet. “He claims Cassini is clever, crafty, and a master at manipulating affairs to produce whatever outcome he wants. The secretary assured me he will convey my story directly to President Roosevelt.”
More meetings followed in the coming days. On Tuesday he met with ranking members in the army to discuss the border skirmishes between Russia and China, as well as his impressions of the Boxer Rebellion. That night he was invited to speak before the National Geographic Society, a gentleman’s club of academics, explorers, and cartographers. They met at the Cosmos Club, where Natalia admired the walls of maps and standing floor globes. Unlike the army officers who wanted military insight, these men were most interested in Dimitri’s trek across Siberia and his friendship with Temujin. They wanted to know about the various ethnic groups he encountered and how people managed to barter without a common language.
As news of Dimitri’s heroic journey across Siberia gained circulation, so did his fame. Each group he visited seemed to have a different reason to be intrigued by his story. He was the guest speaker at a meeting of the Red Cross, who wanted to know if there were orphans who had escaped the massacre and how to send help to the survivors. Natalia also accompanied Dimitri to a luncheon hosted by a group of congressmen’s wives, where the discussion quickly devolved into unsavory gossip about Count Cassini’s “niece.”