by Simon Boxall
Nina's story was a familiar one. She was born an only child. Her father was a travelling salesman, and her mother was disinterested in children. The mother saw children as a labour and not a love; as far as she was concerned she had done her duty and ruined her figure in the process. The father was always away on business, when he was home he usually spent time with his mistress. Her mother, who herself had been spoiled rotten as a child, spent most of the day locked away in her bedroom. When she was not there, she was running up accounts all over Riga.
As far as the mother, Mrs Milstein 'Senior' was concerned, her only daughter could just 'Get on with it.' She had convinced herself that with minimal input from her, her one and only daughter would one day thank her for being the marvellous mother Mrs Milstein always knew she had been. So for Nina, left wanting in the 'Social Skills' department, it really was a case of trial and error. As a result, coming from both sides, of the lack of parental interest, Nina's social skills were not that well developed; the direct consequences of this were, she became surly and withdrawn. But that did not mean that she had no 'Social Skills', it was simply a case that her values were not like everybody else's; they were slightly different.
She was self-centred, this selfish streak estranged all would be friends, and practically alienated everybody, child and adult, else. So, coupled with the parents disinterest, the young Nina Milstein found herself spending more and more time on her own; just herself in her room, staring out of the window, all alone with her thoughts.
Not that she did not try and make an effort to conform, and be like everybody else. She tried very hard; physical contact within her own peer group for her was always painful, and if it could be avoided, it was. Through early and later childhood, she had spent long periods of time on her own, refuge was taken in books, any kind of book would do, Nina always had one on the go. As a consequence, the writers Bronte; Zola; Dostoevsky, Darwin and Tolstoy started to shape her worldview.
It was against this backdrop of parents that did not care and friends that did not 'really' understand, that Nina became aware that she was different from other people. Through school she worked on and developed her rebellious side. By college it had been perfected, skirts were worn shorter than the college principal would have liked, and, contrary to college rules, makeup started to appear on her face.
College had been, in the early hundreds, the 'Melting Pot' that had brought all the differing strands of her life together. Not really understanding it, she had read Marx and Engel. Nina appreciated the vague notion of, and seemed to identify with, the classless society. But she strongly argued for a political 'Guardian' class, this did not go down well with her fellow co-conspirators who all felt that she was a closet 'Autocrat' dressed up in 'Fake', revolutionary overalls.
But it was whilst in her last year at college that she fell in with, two other, 'Oddballs', Gardstein and Trassjohnsky. Through them she met Svaars and via Svaars Piaktow and, through him, 'The Georgian'. But it was Gardstein that had caught her eye. He was slightly older than the others and it was he that had coined the term 'Fellow Travellers'. The young Nina liked the term, she liked the idea of being a 'Fellow Traveller'; even though it was not altogether clear, at this stage, where she was exactly heading to. But that did not matter, she was assured of one thing though, the others would take care of things.
So the four sometimes five, when 'The Georgian' was in town, of them would sit in a corner of the college refectory, where they were always careful not to bring attention to themselves and discuss how they would change the world. All of them agreed that Latvia had to break free from Russia's Imperial yoke in order to take its rightful place in the pantheon of nations. But none of them were sure how they were going to do it. That did not really matter, because the three, sometimes four, 'Idealists', were overtaken by 'World' events.
First the disastrous war between Russia and Japan and the ensuing chaos of the aftermath; this indicated to those that sought it, that change was indeed possible. Gardstein knew a vain group of 'Intellectuals', called 'The Sons and Daughters of Latvia'. This group conversed only in Lithuanian and distributed literature that both criticised, and demanded, immediate independence for Latvia. Caught distributing Sons and Daughters propaganda, Nina was hauled up before the principal and was duly expelled from college.
That afternoon she arrived home to find her suitcases packed. Mrs Milstein, (senior), shouted down from the landing that she had brought shame on the family and that she was to leave immediately. The locks were to be changed later that evening. The mother stressed she must never return. Nina took her possessions and moved in with Gardstein and Trassjohnsky. They were only too glad to add one more to their little number.
As the year nineteen hundred and five went on, 'The Autocracy' found itself stumbling from one crisis to another. In Riga the Latvian flag started to appear more and more. It even started to appear on one or two public buildings. Nina sensed that change was in the air. She noticed that people were no longer afraid to speak Lithuanian in public; she also noticed that Russians were keeping a low profile. The soldiers, for the most part, had been consigned to barracks.
Whilst the world waited to see what The Tsar and his First Minister Sergei Witte would do, life in Riga for the young nationalists was never better. Papers openly stated that Latvia's time had come. Editors demanded that someone lead, do what everybody else thought. But, alas, nobody stepped forward to take on the mantle of responsibility and the opportunity slowly passed.
When the clampdown in Russia came, it literally happened overnight; peasants were rounded up and revolutionaries were exiled. At the same time liberals and radicals were split over policy. Liberals felt that the Duma was the first step towards Constitutional Monarchy; 'The Radicals', a motley mixture of Bolsheviks, Mensheviks, Socialist Revolutionaries and other Nationalists, felt that Witte had cunningly sold them all down the river; maybe he had, but as far as the newly reinvigorated Autocracy was concerned, any dissenters who didn't like it could lump it, that was all they were going to get. The knock on the door became ever more frequent in the city of Vilnius and it was on one such night, when there was a knock on the door, and when nobody answered. At that untimely moment - it was in the 'Nationalist' camp that Nina found herself sitting - when the door to Gardstein's flat fell in and all the occupants were subsequently arrested by the Okhrana.
It was also the day when Nina Milstein met the shady Auguste Gerhardt; and it was also the day that she discovered that, with the right provocation, every pig will squeal. In Gerhardt's custody, the reality of the 'hopelessness' of her situation had got the better of her. Also she did not like the fact that she was held in a pound along with drunkards, prostitutes, petty revolutionaries and other 'common' criminals. As far as Gerhardt was concerned this was all textbook stuff, she would squeal and, when she did she would be his. Indeed Gerhardt was right; Nina Milstein did talk and, once she started talking, there was simply no stopping her. Wherever she went, she talked and talked and talked. Gerhardt liked her.
Hounded by the authorities they wandered all over Europe. Eventually they were joined by Fritz Svaars, who brought with him Peter Piaktow and later by 'The Georgian' Joseph Djugashvilli, in those 'pre Stalin' days, he was still going under the name of 'Koba'. They had an on off affair; the Georgian, was always jealous of her infatuation with George Gardstein. The jealousy remained even after the Georgian married another. The marriage was short-lived, but the distrust remained.
So it was in nineteen ten that they found themselves living in the 'East End' of London. A lot had happened in the intervening five years; a lot ... Nina had strengthened her position in the group by openly having an affair with Gardstein. This only served to irritate Trassjohnsky; to placate her Nina would play dumb all the time. Everything that went on in the group was reported back to Gerhardt.
So there was a sigh of relief from all concerned, when George Gardstein finally got up off his arse and decided to call a meeting. Not only that, there w
as a mild sense of elation when he explained to them exactly what it was he had in mind for them to do.
First and foremost George Gardstein was a Revolutionary. In fact he had fallen in love with this, the idea of all ideas; namely, a crude form of Marxism, then bandied around by the then relatively unknown Vladimir Iilyvich Lenin. These ideas he maintained were one day going to change the world. When that day came, and George Gardstein never doubted that it would, he was going to play a significant part in that change from 'Old Decadent World' to 'New Socialist Utopia'.
But one of the harsh lessons that time had taught him was; your superiors, whoever they may be, don't always value your contributions as much as they value their own. Underlings never measure up, they simply aren't allowed to. Trassjohnsky had pointed this out to him and had suggested that maybe they should do something about it. He remembered the conversation well. He liked what she had told him. It all made perfect sense!
She had put it like this. If they weren't going to work for a living, they must have some other sort of income. If they were Revolutionaries, they must take from society what was rightfully theirs. As Revolutionaries fully committed to 'The Cause', they had every right to do this. Why, because they did not recognise, 'The Autocracies', laws, so, if they were living outside of society's laws and values, they had every right to take what was rightfully theirs. Naturally they represented the 'Workers', while 'The Autocracy' represented 'The Bourgeoisie'. Sara Trassjohnsky reminded him that capitalism was theft. Gardstein agreed that they, as humble servants of the Revolution, had a clear mandate to execute change. Therefore they had every right to appropriate everything they needed. This was 'Class War'. One day, even though it hadn't happened yet, society would thank them.
So the threesome had robbed banks, they had kidnapped officials and members of the nobility; and they had, when the mood took them, murdered indiscriminately, usually for pleasure. From somewhat shaky beginnings they had refined and honed their craft. In their minds, they were to be seen as 'Liberators' of 'The Underdog', so their crimes were not to be confused with 'The Criminal Acts' of 'International Capitalists'. They, and theirs alone, were to be viewed in the context of 'World Revolution' and the goal was freedom for 'The Oppressed'.
As a consequence, Gardstein; Milstein and Trassjohnsky, later joined by Svaars, Piaktow and sometimes the surly Djugashvilli, had blazed a trail all over Europe. When it became too hot in one place they moved on before the authorities moved in. Their acts were known to most of the police forces of Europe, but not their identities. The ability to move quickly and to stay one step ahead of the authorities had, so far, seen them in good stead.
Yes, George Gardstein loved the 'Good Life', but he also adored the flattery and the adulation of Milstein and Trassjohnsky. This so-called ménage a' trois appealed to the lighter and the darker side of his vanity. The two women knew this, they knew it only too well, so they played on it. Unfortunately for them, this weakness would eventually lead to their undoing.
So it was that they had all come, one by one, to London. No place, not even Paris, at the time, could boast of such rich pickings Trassjohnsky had suggested they come, they had all agreed, in his estimation it was a smart move. She had pointed out that the police were not to be feared; unlike those of the other European cities. The 'Good Old British Bobby', believed in fare play and only carried a wooden truncheon for defence. She had also, bearing this fact in mind, suggested that all of them equip themselves with 'State of The Art' weaponry. The Dreyse M1907 handgun was far superior to anything the London police possessed. Trassjohnsky argued, and he always acquiesced in favour of her skilful arguing and superior intellect, they could, with sufficient ammunition, rob a bank every single day of the week. That notion tickled him pink.
Now the co-conspirators were all filing into the front room of the house he and Trassjohnsky had rented. They all sat down; as usual 'The Georgian' was the last to arrive.
'There is a time for all things and our time has come.' George Gardstein said.
Fritz Svaars listened intently to Gardstein. He soon became bored as George droned on. He had heard it all before, especially the speech that began, 'There is a time for all men', or the one that began 'now' is the most essential word in any language. History will never forgive us unless we act 'now'. Svaars looked around the room and his eyes fell upon the genial Georgian. As always, Joseph Djugashvilli was standing slightly aloof from the rest of them.
Slippery one Fritz thought. It was that he could never fathom the wily Georgian out. Obviously he had tried getting to know him, but he always came up against an invisible wall. It was like this, you could get so far with Djugashvilli and then no further. Something else was on his mind. He, Milstein, Gardstein, Piaktow and Trassjohnsky had stuck together through thick and thin. The Georgian came and went as he pleased. He didn't like this. In darker moments he had wondered if Djugashvilli had something on Gardstein.
There was no doubt that the Georgian had his uses. He was both able and efficient and more than once had got them all out of a tight spot. But he always disappeared, only to return a year or two later. This played on Svaars mind, none of the others did this, so why him. This time he was determined to get to the bottom of it and find out why.
Conversation with the Georgian was always slow; he felt that in every conversation that he'd had with him, that he eventually had ceded control of it, to the dark haired man with the moustache. Fritz had spoken to Nina about this and she always shrugged her shoulders and came out with the same analogy, that it was like playing poker with a blind man and you were the blind person and the Georgian held all of the aces, most of them up his sleeve and point blankedly refused to give them away. Maybe the way to get to Djugashvilli was through Gardstein. His ear tuned back into the conversation.
George was now in full flow. 'The time has now come, and I think you will all agree with me, that now we have all become acquainted with East London, we have all got to know the area well…'
So Fritz Svaars listened. Gardstein explained that they were going to rob a jeweller in Hatton Gardens. He had spent, on and off, the last couple of months reconnoitring jewellers there. The idea was that they were going to move swiftly, but before they did the robbery they would each get a feel for the area. Once he was satisfied that they all knew the 'Lie of The Land', they would then conduct a dress rehearsal; after which, they would rob the place. It was like this, they would be in and out in a flash.
So, Milstein and Djugashvilli would pose as a married couple. They would, arm in arm, walk up and down the street. Piaktow and Trassjohnsky would do the same, but they would be pushing a pram. The pram would contain extra rounds and Molotov cocktails whilst Svaars and Gardstein would storm in at eleven o'clock and rob the place. All of them would be armed with their Dreyse automatics. They would be in and out before anyone realised the place had been robbed.
As a distraction, Gardstein was going to arson a Quaker Hall in a nearby street. The police and the local fire brigade would be over there. They would all converge outside the jewellers at ten fifty eight sharp. Milstein and Djugashvilli would assist Gardstein and Svaars in the shop. Then they were to rush out into the street. If all was succeeding to plan Trassjohnsky and Piaktow would happen past with the pram. They would be held up at gunpoint. For the benefit of any onlookers they and their baby would be taken hostage. This play-acting would serve two purposes. One, of keeping the police, and any 'Have a Go Hero's' at arm's length whilst, number two, helping the gang spirit their swag away.
Then they would move quickly to an adjacent residential street. Wellington Rd, - where they would enter number fourteen; holing up there, if need be, until the storm had blown over. If the coast was clear they would move on quickly. Most of these houses had cellars; occupants would be tied up and then bundled downstairs. If they were lucky the owners might be out. They would then scale the back wall and set off in different directions. They would meet at Mrs Browns at six in the evening. Gardstein assured them t
hat it was as simple as that, but it was not without its risks. However, he stressed that even if it did go wrong, if they stayed calm everything would be fine in the end.
'Obviously in an undertaking of this kind there is always an element of risk. Bad luck etcetera! The English 'Bobby' that just happens along, or the truanting child that just decides to tag along, or the Old Lady that just happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time,' Svaars prophetically said.
Gardstein agreed, but explained that the bold nature of such a robbery would inevitably catch the authorities off their guard. He doubted that they were prepared or equipped to deal with such a sophisticated crime. The element of surprise was all theirs ... and theirs for the taking! The second robbery would not be, they would have to change their 'Modus Operandi' and strike elsewhere.
'What about Scotland Yard,' the Georgian said.
'What about them! They'll probably think we`re Fenians!' Gardstein said. He went on,' Nobody knows us around here! We have not aroused anyone's suspicions. To them we are respectable immigrants trying to make a better life, for ourselves here in London. What could be simpler? We do not fit into any of the stereotypes of the British villain. Look!' Gardstein then distributed some English wanted posters, 'Look at these ...'
As he was handing them out, 'The Georgian' said, 'Neither did Dr Crippen!'
The Latvian 'Mastermind' carried on. 'As a precaution, from now on, I don't want any of you to take the same route twice. The Okhrana are here in London. From now on, double check to see if you are being followed. Check reflections in shop windows; do not under any circumstances bring attention to yourselves. If you think that you are under surveillance, make your way to the area around Liverpool Street Station. Several streets away there is a Jewish synagogue. With the piece of chalk I am about to give you. Write on the synagogue wall, by the entrance to the alley, the Roman symbol 'One'. After you have done that, you are to go into the station and buy a single ticket to the village of Wivenhoe in Essex. There is a safe house there, you will go there and await further instructions.' Gardstein looked at his accomplices, and then said, ‘Any Questions?'