‘Ah, yes. Yellowish — white. Too pale to be sunset. Dawn? The light’s breaking on the left of the picture, so that must be the east.’
‘So where does that place the city in relation to the artist’s viewpoint?’
Lily thought for a bit, moving her hands about, and then she said: ‘It would be to the south-east. So this grave is … um … ten miles or so north-west of Ekaterinburg.’
‘Well done! It is — to be exact — a particularly depressing corner of the Koptyaki Forest, a place called the Four Brothers, after four tall pine trees that grow hereabouts. That could be one of them, there, on the right. It’s a quagmire underfoot and riddled with old mine workings. Just the place to lose eleven bodies.’
‘Eleven, sir?’
‘The Tsar and his wife, their five children and four of the household. Maid, valet, footman and the loyal family doctor — Botkin — all went to their deaths with the imperial family. But there’s something else we can glean from the picture. Take this magnifying glass. Go and see what you can find carved on the surface of the crosses. I’m sure I noticed something.’
‘There’s an A, an N, and smaller — an O, another A, an M and a T and a third A. You could easily miss them. These are crosses for the Tsar Nicholas and his wife, Alexandra, and their five children, aren’t they? Olga, Tatiana, Maria and Anastasia. And this smallest cross here is for the youngest, the boy Alexei, the heir to the throne.’
‘Aged only thirteen when he died.’
‘Are you thinking, sir, that this was done by an eyewitness? Now I see the precision …’
‘Yes. Or by someone who was given a detailed description by an eyewitness.’