“Grigor, I had a most disturbing meeting today. I hope your news about this Porter situation is revealing.”
“Baron, you have little to worry about,” said Grigor, smiling as he came into the garden. “Since two years ago, Porter is an outcast. Details are fuzzy, of course, but he apparently laid low for a year before coming out in the open as John Porter, a supposed Englishman. I’m surprised he’s still alive; I’m sure he won’t last long.”
“Who was he as a Kalnichov?”
“Radimir Stokavski, one of Vladimir’s great-grand-nephews.”
“The name is not familiar to me, but I know the Stokavski branch is the old guard.”
“They’re a tight-lipped lot, especially about the inner circle, which Radimir seems to have been part of—my sources weren’t sure. There was no scuttlebutt floating around about him, other than he is now a non-person in Kalnichov eyes.”
“So he’s nothing to worry about?”
“His days are numbered,” smiled the investigator. “As I said, I’m surprised he’s still alive. Whatever he’s got planned, it will end shortly.”
“Did you get close to Porter?”
“No, I took your advice and kept my distance.”
Rostov smiled in turn. “Thank you, Grigor. I think my investigative trip to the church is very much in order, then, and not only as it affects the railway. Black Pass is an area you are familiar with, I believe. Will you accompany me as my guide?”
“I’d be delighted, Baron.”
“We will depart early the day after tomorrow. There are preparations I must make for the journey.”
“I’ll be making some myself,” said Grigor. He winked, and wandered off singing a drinking song.