by ILIL ARBEL
“No, I don’t,” said Mr. Korolenko. “I find it hard to believe. I assume if it were the truth, Inspector Blount would have told me.”
“I followed M. Bassin into the room,” said Natalya, “and asked him to explain the accusation. ‘What’s to explain?’ he said. ‘It’s simple. She tried to kill another ballerina some years ago. She is crazy.’ I told him that such a statement could get him in trouble if the facts were not proven, and he just turned around and left the house. So I decided I should go home and tell you.”
“It is just as important if it is not true,” said Madame Koska. “If he made it up, it’s clearly to throw suspicion away from himself. I expect M. Danilov had no idea the little fool was spreading rumours.”
“He is not very bright,” said Madame Golitsyn, “but it may be that he pretends to be so simple.”
“And we can’t mention it to Sasha,” said Mr. Korolenko. “If they worked together to murder Solange, it is best that he not know what Bassin said. But I must alert Inspector Blount.”
“Yes, you should, of course,” said Madame Koska. “There is something I can do, though, unless the inspector objects to it. I would like to go to Switzerland and visit Galina. I have promised her that I would visit if at all possible. I may be able to discover something.”
“I don’t think the inspector would object,” said Mr. Korolenko. “Even if she is guilty, there is nothing she can do while in the sanatorium. And whatever she says, even if she lies, may throw light on the circumstances. I will speak to Blount.”
~~~
“I am glad you agreed to meet me, Miss Saltykov,” said Inspector Blount. “And I hope it is clear that I did not ask you as part of the investigation.”
“Oh yes,” said Natalya. “I realised that. Naturally, we cannot discuss the investigation in public.”
“It’s not written anywhere in the rule books that a police inspector is not allowed to socialise. I hope by now we are friends and can just meet and relax over a nice dinner.”
“It’s quite the same for an embroiderer and beader at a fashion atelier,” said Natalya, smiling. “We are allowed to go out! And yes, we are friends, despite our arguments over the affair of the Imperial brooch.”
“The less said about the blessed brooch, the better,” Chief Inspector Blount said. They both laughed. During that complicated case which had been the reason for their meeting, they were highly antagonistic to each other, complicating matters considerably.
“It’s been quite an experience for me,” said Natalya. “But despite all the troubles, I am grateful for having gone through it; the case changed me.”
“If you mean how it changed your looks, Miss Saltykov, it was dramatic,” said Inspector Blount, smiling. “But I am sure you mean more than that.”
Natalya laughed. “Yes, it seems I was determined to look as terrible as I could. But the changes in my looks and thinking were interconnected. I owe everything to Madame Koska. She boosted my self-esteem by showing me I was an expert at my profession, not just an amateur, who would allow herself to be taken advantage of by every client or employer. And she helped me look a little better, which made me feel more confident when meeting people.”
“You look more than a ‘little’ better, Miss Saltykov,” said the inspector, looking with admiration at the aquamarine eyes and delicate face, charmingly surrounded by soft ash-blond waves. “And it seems that you have adjusted to the new life admirably.”
“I love my new life, Inspector Blount. I believe I was in a state of perpetual nervousness and used the loss of my title as an excuse for my timidity. I would not go back to the old days even if I could. I am happy to be a professional, glad to be independent. I will always love the memory of the Tsarina, she was like a second mother to me, but I was a dependent, and now I am not. It’s a joy.”
“So in a way, it was a golden cage, Miss Saltykov. You do not belong in any cage – I think your freedom means more to you than anything else.”
“Thank you, that is an insightful comment,” said Natalya. “But don’t you think it’s time you started calling me Natalya?”
“With pleasure. And my Christian name is Brian,” said the inspector.
“Cheers, Brian,” said Natalya and raised her glass. The inspector clinked his glass to hers, and they smiled.
“You belong here in London with all of us, your new friends,” said the inspector. “Also, it seems that you did not lose all your old aristocratic friends. I like the way Lady Victoria was determined to continue the friendship, despite your attempts to discourage her.”
“I was silly, but it took me some time to grasp the idea that she was neither demeaning herself, nor doing me a favour. I finally understood the beauty of English society, where the upper classes do not disdain the middle classes. I love such fluidity.”
“And speaking of Lady Victoria, I pursued your story of what happened there. I found nothing – and while we can’t talk about it here, as we said before, I might just mention that Madame Koska’s little holiday in Switzerland can be very useful.”
“She is leaving tomorrow morning,” said Natalya.
“I know how busy she is,” said the inspector, “but when I mentioned the time she would be spending away from work, she dismissed it and said that this was more important, and it was her duty. Between us, Natalya, I suspect she enjoys sleuthing – and she is splendid at it. I will never forget her help during the affair of the brooch; it was invaluable. I wish I could recruit her to work for Scotland Yard.”
“And make her stop designing clothes? Never!” said Natalya.
The inspector laughed and said, “Very well, she can continue doing it as a hobby, I suppose. I am most interested to hear what she will say after meeting Madame Danilova.”
Chapter Nine
“Here are your tickets, Vera, compliments of Scotland Yard,” said Mr. Korolenko, handing her an envelope.
“Why would Scotland Yard pay for my trip?” Asked Madame Koska, surprised.
“Because you are going on behalf of the investigation,” said Mr. Korolenko.
“But I am merely visiting a friend,” said Madame Koska, with some discomfort. “Besides, Dmitry, this ticket is for the Orient Express! Is it really necessary?”
“Blount suspected that if you go on your own, you might choose a less expensive way, and he believes that the Orient Express is the fastest, safest, and most reliable way for a lady travelling on her own. I offered to accompany you, but Blount felt that Galina would be more open to discussing these matters if the two of you are alone.”
“This is true, Dmitry. She would feel it is an investigation, or that she is taking away too much time from our holiday. If I come alone, it shows that I want to spend time with her.”
“Possibly. So you will go to Calais, then Paris, and from there to Lausanne.”
“Yes, since Galina is at the Leysin sanatorium, it is not far from Lausanne. I know the area, and it is a simple trip.”
~~~
In past trips on the Orient Express, Madame Koska had always enjoyed the delicate balance between elegance and ostentation that the creators of the line managed to achieve. A waiter showed her to her table, and as she sat down, she remembered the amusing story of the maiden trip of the Orient Express in 1883. At the time, the waiters wore tailcoats, breeches, silk stockings, and powdered wigs, as was customary. The angry passengers demanded that the servers discard these wigs – the train’s movement made the powder land in their food. Under normal circumstances, however, the ride was so smooth that the tables rarely shook and the plates hardly ever rattled.
The dining car was magnificent. The walls, hung with original paintings by several masters, were panelled with mahogany and teak, deeply tinted and polished to a soft glow. They were inlaid with delicate rosewood patterns and decorated with carved borders. The ceilings were painted with colourful images from Greek mythology. But the visual opulence did not interfere with the equally important attempt to make the travellers a
s comfortable as possible.
The tables were arranged on both sides of the car, next to the windows. On one side, they accommodated four diners. On the other side, only two; these tables were reserved for those who wished for a private conversation. Discretion was most important, since the Orient Express offered the preferred mode of travel to honeymooners, people on secret romantic assignations, high-level business meetings, legal and otherwise, and espionage. Royalty often travelled by the Orient Express, but they did not go to the dining car, since the company offered them private accommodations that were naturally even more luxurious than the rest of the train. On either side, the diners could place their belongings on racks stretching over the length of the car. They did not have to return to their compartments to retrieve cigarette cases, binoculars, or books when the meal was over and they went to the drawing rooms to smoke or drink a glass of the best Cognac. As a subtle touch of assistance to those who badly needed it, the chairs were not attached to the floor as they were in many other trains. An overweight passenger could easily move his chair back, and allow the proper distance to accommodate his girth. White damask covered the tables, the napkins were folded artistically, and each place boasted several crystal wine glasses. The cutlery was made from solid silver, as silver plating simply would not do. The gold-rimmed china was of fine porcelain and decorated with the company’s crest, and of course, the cuisine matched the best hotels in Europe.
At the table, Madame Koska joined a lady who was travelling to Paris to shop, and an older married couple heading to Venice to enjoy the art and the gondolas. Pleasant, disjointed conversation lasted throughout the long meal, and as soon as they heard who she was, both ladies asked Madame Koska for a card and promised to come to the atelier.
Madame Koska decided to go to one of the drawing rooms; she felt she needed rest and some solitude. Settling herself in one of the comfortable fauteuils, Madame Koska took her cigarette holder and put a cigarette in it. A passing waiter stopped to light it, and as he moved away, she suddenly saw Leonard Bassin sitting in another chair. He did not seem to notice her and was absorbed in a newspaper.
Madame Koska was not sure what to do. Where could he be going? Why didn’t Inspector Blount tell her that Bassin would be on the same train? Surely he knew! Would it be best to ignore Bassin and walk away? But how could she do that, both of them sitting in the same room?
Madame Koska got up, stepped right in front of his chair, and the young man raised his head and jumped to his feet.
“M. Bassin? May I ask vhy you are here?” asked Madame Koska pleasantly, in a non-confrontational manner.
“I… I… I am going away,” said M. Bassin.
“Going avay? Did you get permission from Inspector Blount to leave in the middle of the investigation?”
M. Bassin looked at her, with a half belligerent, half fearful expression. “I have an alibi; I don’t need permission,” he said.
“That vas not my experience,” said Madame Koska. “I had to ask his permission.”
“I didn’t ask,” said M. Bassin. “I can do what I want.”
“Very vell,” said Madame Koska. “And may I ask vhere you are going? I am going to Lausanne.”
“I am going to Paris and then to our school in Monte Carlo,” said M. Bassin. “I want to take my training there.”
“Oh, so M. Danilov sent you? That is a different story; he must have asked Inspector Blount.”
“No, not really,” said M. Bassin. “He didn’t know I was going. But I left him a note at the hotel before I left.”
“I see,” said Madame Koska. “Sit down, M. Bassin, and let me explain something to you.”
They sat, and Madame Koska said, “Don’t be surprised if a police officer vill be waiting for you in Paris. M. Danilov vould caution Inspector Blount that you have left, because othervise, they vould suspect him of sending you without permission; such an act would put him in a terrible light.”
“But we have an alibi!” repeated the young man feebly.
“Perhaps, but if I recall correctly, your alibi is for each other. So if M. Danilov allowed you to go avay, it looks highly suspicious.”
“He can manage,” said M. Bassin. “He can manage everything. I am not worried about him.”
Madame Koska suddenly felt very, very angry with his carelessness and stupidity.
“Not concerned for him? Let me tell you something, young man. You are causing more trouble than you are vorth. You spread rumours, run avay, and altogether behave as if you vere guilty of the murder.”
“I didn’t kill Solange!”
“So vhy are you running avay?”
“Because I am scared,” said M. Bassin. “Someone killed Solange. Someone tried to kill Victor. Now it will be my turn, and someone will try to kill me. Maybe you will try to kill me? Perhaps you are following me on this train?”
Madame Koska was quiet for a minute, thinking. The whole thing did not make sense. His reason for going to Monte Carlo was much too vague. “I am sorry, M. Bassin. I find it hard to believe you.”
“So do I,” said a voice behind her. A stranger rose from another chair and approached them. “May I introduce myself? I am Constable Jamison, here on the orders of Inspector Blount. I have been following you since you left the hotel in London, M. Bassin. When we reach Paris, I am taking you back to London.”
“But you can’t arrest me! I have done nothing!”
“I am not arresting you unless you refuse to come back to London. If you create difficulties, I have the authority to do so; you have disobeyed Inspector Blount’s orders since you left London in the middle of a murder investigation.”
“I won’t go! I am going to Monte Carlo!”
“Constable Jamison,” said Madame Koska. “I think it vould be a good idea to check M. Bassin’s ticket. I have a hunch that he is not going to Monte Carlo at all and has another destination in mind.”
“Indeed, I will. M. Bassin, please give me your ticket,” said the constable.
M. Bassin turned abruptly and tried to leave the car, but the constable laid a heavy hand on his shoulder and made him stop. “I suggest you stop making difficulties, sir. You are incriminating yourself,” he said.
M. Bassin sighed, pulled his ticket out of his pocket and handed it to the constable, who glanced at it and said, “You were right, Madame Koska; the ticket is to Lausanne. M. Bassin, you are under arrest. Kindly follow me to your compartment, where you will stay until we reach Paris.”
“Vait a moment, Officer,” said Madame Koska. “M. Bassin, vhy are you going to see Madame Danilova?”
“Because I wanted to find out if she was the killer,” said the young man, gazing at the floor.
“Or perhaps you intended to kill her, M. Bassin?” said Madame Koska, disgusted. The young man did not answer.
“I will bring him to Inspector Blount, Madame Koska,” said the constable, shrugging. “Let him sort it out.”
Madame Koska went to her compartment. It was a private one, designed for a single person, as requested by Inspector Blount for safety reasons. It was luxurious and welcoming, and the attendant already transformed the daytime sofa into a comfortable bed. But she was too tired and dispirited and did not enjoy it as she would have otherwise. Nor could she sleep well.
~~~
“My dear Vera,” said Madame Danilova. “How wonderful to see you. I can’t tell you how happy I was when I got your cable.”
“And I am glad to see you, especially as you look so well already. The staff must be taking excellent care of you here.”
“I do feel much better,” said Madame Danilova. “I think the cessation of the extreme tension I felt in London is significant to my recovery.”
“Modern medicine is inclined to think that states of mind affect the body,” said Madame Koska.
“Are you comfortable? I hope you are not cold,” said Madame Danilova, anxiously. “We are supposed to spend hours in the cold air.” They were sitting on a spacious veranda line
d with comfortable beds. Few patients rested there, the others presumably taking the air and sun cure on their private balconies. All of them were wrapped in warm blankets since the dry air was cold.
“I am perfectly comfortable,” said Madame Koska. “They advised me to bring a warm coat, and Annushka made sure I took this thick Russian shawl. I have another one here in this parcel – Natalya embroidered it just for you with traditional bright flowers.” She spread it over Madame Danilova’s blankets.
“Dear, sweet women,” said Madame Danilova, gazing at the lovely gift. “It is such a comfort to know that three such wonderful friends like you will be there when I settle in London.”
“We will be waiting to welcome you, Galina. We can’t wait to have you come back,” said Madame Koska. Looking at the thin, beautiful face, she was again entirely certain that Madame Danilova was innocent. So certain, in fact, that she decided to change her tactics and not try to conceal the details from Madame Danilova, but be honest with her.
“And how is the investigation going?” asked Madame Danilova, as if reading Madame Koska’s thoughts. “Is there any news?”
“I have much to tell you, but do you think you are well enough to discuss it?”
“Yes, I am,” said Madame Danilova. “And I feel more detached, less involved. I am even less worried about Victor. I know he is mentally ill, and I can face it. He needs help, and he will get it, and there is nothing else I can do for him.”
“This is an excellent attitude,” said Madame Koska. “Tell me, how do you feel about Leonard Bassin?”
“I have little interest in him. He is very young, quite silly, and I wish him no harm, but I can’t say I like him. He is not a bad person, not evil, but he is an opportunist and has no ethics. I have seen him behave in petty, envious ways and he is quite prone to spreading lies and rumours. He is probably like that because of the terrible life these boys have – I told you Victor’s story. They all live like that, and it affects them.”
“Lies and rumours?” asked Madame Koska.