Madame Koska & the Imperial Brooch

by ILIL ARBEL

  “No, Inspector. I believe I dropped the box and never thought of it again,” said Natalya.

  “So why was the box open when we found it a little later?” asked the inspector.

  “I don’t know,” said Natalya calmly. “Perhaps during the confusion, someone wanted to put a cool wet rag on Madame Koska’s forehead, to relieve her dizziness?”

  “Could be,” said the inspector. “But it could also have been used to put the surgical ether on it and press it into her face.”

  The old Natalya would have shrivelled before this attack. The new Natalya shrugged and said, “Inspector, I believe you are trying to frighten me into some admission or other. I have nothing to say. You know perfectly well that I could not obtain surgical ether, I have no connection to any doctor or surgeon.”

  “Very well, Miss Saltykov,” said the inspector. “Thank you very much for your help. You can go back to work now.”

  When the door was closed behind Natalya, the inspector said, “She is different, entirely different. It’s not just the hair-do, it’s her entire attitude.”

  “I supposed she got tired of being bullied by you, Inspector,” said Mr. Korolenko.

  “I am only doing my job,” said the inspector defensively. Mr. Korolenko laughed and said, “She will make you change your ways, I suspect.”

  “Whatever do you mean, Korolenko?” asked the inspector with some irritation.

  “Beware the wrath of a Russian noblewoman,” said Mr. Korolenko. “They have the very devil of a pride.”

  The inspector laughed. “I am sure of it,” he said. “But if she is innocent, she has nothing to worry about. We are very careful of such matters here.”

  “I hope she won’t hold it against you when you find the real culprit,” said Mr. Korolenko. “It would be a pity, such an attractive and accomplished lady.”

  “She did look very nice,” said the inspector thoughtfully. “I can never understand women. If she can look like that, why did she look like a rabbit all this time?”

  “Good question,” said Madame Koska.

  At night, Madame Koska made Gretchen comfortable, and the girl was sleeping peacefully, but Madame Koska was wide awake well into the night. She sat on the sofa in her drawing room, trying to read but unable to concentrate, and kept her handbag by her side. Every little sound made her jump and she despised herself for her nervousness but could not control it. During the afternoon, Inspector Blount had come back with a small handgun, gone over the mechanics with her to make sure there would be no mishap, and left. And now it was tucked under a lace handkerchief in Madame Koska’s handbag, and she felt slightly, but not entirely, reassured by its presence. She wondered if a glass of warm milk would help her settle into sleep, when suddenly she heard Gretchen crying. The poor girl, she thought, and went to knock on her door. “Come in,” she heard Gretchen saying, half sobbing.

  “Vhat is it, my dear?” asked Madame Koska, and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “How could they leave me like this?” said Gretchen, wiping her eyes. “I never had a mother…then Father disappeared… I thought my uncle and aunt loved me, and instead they have abandoned me.”

  “Yes, it’s very hard, Gretchen,” said Madame Koska. “But they may have had no choice. I am sure they do love you.”

  “But to go away just like that, not even leaving me a note, is so harsh.”

  “They may have been afraid of the Eurasian gang, I suspect,” said Madame Koska.

  “Perhaps…but just because they had a reason does not make it less painful…”

  Madame Koska stroked the girl’s hair. No, abandonment was always painful, whatever the cause. She knew that.

  “You are now an adult,” she said gently. “Such disappointments are part of life.”

  “But do they always happen? With everyone?”

  “No, of course not, some people vill alvays remain loyal. Try to bear it by giving them the benefit of the doubt. An explanation may be forthcoming soon. Try to sleep.”

  “I will,” said Gretchen. “I am so tired. Yes, maybe we’ll hear from them soon…” her eyes were closing with fatigue, and Madame Koska quietly left the room.

  In the morning, when Madame Koska entered her office, she cried out with dismay. The safe had been opened during the night and its door was ajar.

  “Not again,” she sighed. “Gretchen, vould you call Inspector Blount, please? Tell him there vas another break-in, and the safe is opened. I am not touching it until he comes over.”

  The inspector, accompanied by two police officers, came very quickly. Using a pencil, he pushed the safe’s door open.

  “Please see what is missing, Madame Koska,” said the inspector.

  “Inspector, I don’t think anything vould be missing. All I had there vere a few receipts and bills. You see, before I vent to my veekend at the Howards, I took all the important contents and put them in Madame Golitsyn’s safe, just to be careful.”

  “Do you remember exactly what you put in her safe?”

  “Yes. There was some cash, which I kept aside for emergencies, a few contracts with clients who had really large orders, some bills from suppliers, and an envelope full of old papers I brought from Paris.”

  “And what is in this envelope?”

  “You know, I haven’t looked at it for years, I am not entirely sure. It’s the odd things everyone has from the past and never throws avay but never looks at, either. My marriage records might be there, perhaps some business material that belonged to my husband. But vhy do you even mention them?”

  “Because I think perhaps some significant papers might be there. You have been targeted several times, Madame Koska. Someone is searching for something. It may be the brooch, but it may also be something entirely different. A document may be what they are after.”

  “You are more than velcome to see the contents. They vill be mostly in French and Russian.”

  “That’s okay. I am going to bring Korolenko with us and let him handle the translations.”

  “Certainly, if you vish, but Madame Golitsyn and I could help you vith translations.”

  “No, Madame Koska. I would rather have Mr. Korolenko help us.”

  “Vhy is that?”

  “I do not wish to be unpleasant, but I do not trust Madame Golitsyn as much as I trust Mr. Korolenko.”

  “You suspect Madame Golitsyn? Why?”

  “I don’t suspect her of anything specific, Madame Koska, and I realise she is your dear friend, but I have not known her very long or worked with her before. I know very little about her past, other than she is a noblewoman and used to be quite wealthy. None of that is a guarantee of innocence. Remember, too, that she spent time in Constantinople, where the Eurasian gang operates regularly.”

  “Very vell,” said Madame Koska coldly. “Mr. Korolenko is also velcome to look at the contents. Let us call both of them.”

  “Thank you. And in the meantime, I’ll have my officers look around and see if they can find any clues to this latest break-in.”

  Madame Golitsyn opened her safe and handed all the papers to Madame Koska, then sat down at a little distance. Madame Koska set the papers on the table, and from among them fished out an old, well-stuffed large envelope. She pulled out the wad of old papers and put them down. “You may go through it, Inspector,” she said, and then retreated and sat by Madame Golitsyn, quietly putting a cigarette in a holder and lighting it. Mr. Korolenko looked at the papers, one by one. He sat with his back to them, so the ladies could not see it when he slipped a piece of paper into his pocket. The inspector, who was not well versed in French or Russian, waited by the window and therefore did not notice either.

  “I am afraid there is nothing there that would help in the investigation,” said Mr. Korolenko. “It’s basically just business papers from the past, from the Paris atelier.”

  “It was worth a try,” said Madame Golitsyn graciously. “There could have been something there that would shed some light on the issues at h
and.”

  “So we are back where we started,” said the inspector. “What were the burglars looking for?”

  “The brooch,” said Madame Koska. “Someone is convinced that I have the brooch and that I am stupid enough to keep it in my safe. It has to be the brooch since how can anyone connect me to the Eurasian gang or the opium trade?”

  “There have been cases where jewellery or other valuables were smuggled in bolts of silk from the Orient,” said the inspector.

  “But I bought all my fabrics in London ever since I came here,” said Madame Koska. “I have nothing delivered as bolts. Just enough materials as needed for the dresses. The accessories from Paris were unpacked by the seamstresses, who would certainly notice a large piece of jewellery.”

  “As I said, we are back to square one,” said the inspector, and sighed. Mr. Korolenko did not mention the piece of paper he put in his pocket, and the two gentlemen left, refusing the offer of a cup of tea.

  Gretchen burst into Madame Koska’s office with barely a knock on the door. “Miss Plimpton-Anderson is on the telephone, Madame Koska,” she blurted. “She wants to come to her appointment! They are in London! I said nothing about my uncle or anything else, only that I must ask you.”

  “That is really strange,” said Madame Koska, surprised. “Vell, just tell her they can come tomorrow morning. I’ll alert Inspector Blount.”

  Could it be that the sisters were not implicated at all? Would they dare to come, if they were involved? Madame Koska shook her head and dialled the inspector’s number, and the inspector, also sounding rather surprised, said he would have them watched. Madame Koska went to Gretchen’s desk and said, “The inspector is ready. The truth is, ve don’t know if they are involved or not. However, if they ask you to go out vith them for luncheon or tea, then it vill be certain they have some bad intentions. You should not go out vith them.”

  “I would not dare, Madame Koska,” said Gretchen. “I am not moving from the house.”

  “I vill tell them you are needed here because Lady Victoria is coming to pick up her dress, and you have to model for her. It’s true, anyvay, she is coming tomorrow, though of course she vill try the dress on herself, you von’t have to model. However, the sisters don’t know that.”

  The next morning the sisters walked in, looking as silly and juvenile as always. They stopped at Gretchen’s desk and the elder said, “Did you hear anything from your uncle and aunt, dear? I wonder how much shopping your aunt has already done in Paris!”

  “No,” said Gretchen, admirably controlled. “But I thought you went home, that was what the servants told me.”

  “Oh, no, they were mistaken,” said the younger sister. “We are staying with an old school friend, you might know her, Miss Grimsby. She insisted we stay with her until the dresses were ready…she just wants to snoop, but we don’t mind.”

  “Yes, I remember Miss Grimsby,” said Gretchen. “You brought her to my uncle and aunt’s party a few months ago.”

  “Yes, that’s the one. She will be so jealous over the Russian-style clothes,” giggled the older sister. “I can’t wait to see her face when we show her the outfits!” Madame Koska came to greet them and took them inside to discuss the clothes.

  Raving over the colours and the designs, the sisters seemed entirely preoccupied with the outfits. When they were done, they left the premises in the most normal fashion, saying a cheerful goodbye to Gretchen and inviting her to come and stay at their home when they got back there. They did not try to ask her out with them and Madame Koska erased them from her list of suspects.

  Lady Victoria came to pick up her dress and was enchanted with its beauty. She put it on and as Madame Koska expected, the dark crimson brought out her dark hair and pale skin to perfection. But what Lady Victoria was most amazed by was the beauty of the beading and embroidery on the panels of the bodice. “I have never seen such workmanship,” she said when she put on her street clothes and examined her new dress closely.

  “It vas done by my chief beader, Miss Saltykov,” said Madame Koska. “She had learned the trade as a child, in Russia.”

  “Miss Saltykov?” asked Lady Victoria. “This is odd. When my husband and I stayed for a while in Saint Petersburg, before the Revolution, I met a lady by the name of Countess Saltykov. She was also an extremely talented craftswoman and embroidery was her hobby. We were very friendly, and before I left, she gave me an embroidered handkerchief as a token; I still treasure it. I lost track of her after the Revolution. What a strange coincidence.”

  “Not a coincidence at all, Lady Victoria. It’s the same voman.”

  “Countess Natalya Saltykov works as a beader?”

  “Most of them lost everything, Lady Victoria. They have to vork.”

  “Yes, naturally…may I see her?”

  Madame Koska brought Natalya in, telling her that an old friend wanted to thank her for her work. Natalya walked in and when she saw Lady Victoria, she smiled, slightly sheepishly and looking a little guilty.

  “My dear Natalya, why didn’t you tell me you were in London?” asked Lady Victoria, after embracing her warmly.

  “I know… I did feel terrible about it but I did not want you to think that after losing everything I was looking for favours, Victoria,” said Natalya. “I was going to wait until I was more established and then I would have written to you.”

  “That is nonsense! Anyway, now I found you. How is your charming father?”

  “Quite well, he is working with Aunt Anna. We are all working, and very happy to be safe in London.”

  “You will come to visit, bring the family, and no more silliness about it,” said Lady Victoria firmly.

  “I promise,” said Natalya. Lady Victoria prepared to leave after pushing her card into Natalya’s hand and hugging her again. “What a dress you made for me, darling,” she said.

  “You remember how I loved doing beading and pearl embroidery? And since Madame Koska so generously offered me the job, why not put it to use now and make a new life using my skills?”

  “Absolutely true,” said Lady Victoria.

  “And I am teaching all the other women some of the old styles,” said Natalya. “Soon they will all be better than I am.”

  “I doubt that,” said Madame Koska, “but even if they are half as good, ve vill soon be the best atelier in London for beading and embroidery.”

  “And with your wonderful dress designs, Madame Koska, it will be even better than the Paris houses,” said Lady Victoria. “I am enchanted with the dress.”

  “You will be the belle of the ball,” said Natalya, laughing. “But then you always are!” Lady Victoria left, laughing as well, and Madame Koska was delighted to see how far Natalya had advanced in shedding her timidity and pain. This newly discovered friend would help to continue the process of getting Natalya out of her shell, she hoped.

  “I will go to Aunt Anna after work,” said Natalya. “She will be delighted that Victoria and I met here.”

  “You knew it vas her all along, didn’t you,” said Madame Koska, smiling.

  “Oh, yes, but I was waiting to write to her until the police and robberies and all that is over,” said Natalya.

  “Quite reasonable,” Madame Koska agreed. “But I am sure it is going to be resolved very soon.”

  “I wish Inspector Blount would be quicker about it,” said Natalya. “He is not proceeding very well.”

  “I am sure he is doing his best,” said Madame Koska. “By the vay, he seems to like you. And he is a very nice man.”

  “Like me? To me it seems he is constantly trying to intimidate me,” said Natalya.

  “To me it seems you intimidate him, dear,” said Madame Koska. Natalya laughed but did not deny the allegation.

  The day passed quickly, as it always did in the busy atelier, and when the time came for the seamstresses to leave, Madame Koska said to Gretchen, “Vhy don’t you go upstairs and rest for a few minutes. I’ll just put avay the papers and bills, and fil
e Lady Victoria’s order. Then ve must have some dinner and try to have an early night.”

  “Yes, indeed,” said Gretchen. “I keep waiting for something to happen and it’s exhausting. At least I think we don’t have to worry about the sisters anymore.” She took her things and left. Madame Koska put away all the bills, orders, and other papers, filed Lady Victoria’s order, and decided to call it a night and go upstairs.

  As she opened the front door, a man stepped forward, holding a gun. “Please stop, Madame Koska. I will not hesitate to shoot.”

  Madame Koska stopped and nodded. “May I ask who you are?” she said.

  “I work for the Eurasian company that Mr. Howard is involved with,” said the Man. “Miss Van der Hoven knows me. I met her on her way when she came to London.”

  “I see,” said Madame Koska. This had to be the man who threatened Gretchen and forced her to take a job at the atelier, she thought. “So vhy are you pointing a gun at me, and vhat is it that you vant from me?”

  “Because you must come with me; there is someone who wishes to speak to you.”

  “Who vants to see me?” asked Madame Koska.

  “I cannot tell you right now, but you will soon find out,” said the man.

  “But don’t you realise that as soon as the police officers across the street see us, they vill do something about it?” asked Madame Koska.

  “We are not going through the front,” said the man. “We are going to get back into the atelier, go to the room that looks over the courtyard, and go out through the window. There is a ladder leaning against it for your convenience.”

  “But there is a police officer stationed there as vell,” said Madame Koska.

  “We have taken care of him,” said the man.

  “You killed him?” said Madame Koska, horrified.

  “No, no. Killing a police officer in England would be too conspicuous. It would bring the entire force against us and much unwanted publicity. We have just given him a drug that would make him sleep for a few hours.”