by ILIL ARBEL
“Yes. I am sure you know what Bassin said about me, for example. He thought that I was trying to persuade Sasha to drop him and restore Victor as his lover. So he started saying that there is an arrest warrant against me in Moscow. But he changes the reasons for the warrant as needed. When suspecting I was damaging his romance, the reason for the warrant was that I seduced extremely young ballerinas. These days, it is because supposedly I murdered a ballerina there.”
“So you are aware of these rumours. Interesting. Yes, Bassin told Natalya that you had murdered this ballerina.”
Madame Danilova laughed. “I hope no one takes him seriously,” she said. “Can you imagine me seducing young girls and then murdering them? What next? He may suggest I have embezzled money so Sasha would get rid of me.”
Madame Koska laughed. “Well, try to get well and come back quickly,” she said.
Chapter Ten
“The sanatorium is a strange place,” said Madame Koska.
“In what way?” said Inspector Blount.
“On one hand, it is much like a luxury hotel; comfortable, elegant rooms, highly attentive staff, admirable cuisine. On the other hand, the atmosphere is morbid, permeated by a profound sense of illness.”
“It is a hospital, after all,” said Madame Golitsyn, getting up to refill the tray with more pastry.
“They try to disguise it. For example, people are alvays dressed beautifully for dinner, even vearing expensive jewellery.” Madame Koska sipped her tea thoughtfully. “And yet, you see them carry these horrible hygienic blue bottles vhich they must use instead of handkerchiefs, vhich are inadequate for the symptoms of their illness. They usually conceal the bottles as best they can, but it is not alvays possible. And no matter vhere you are, you hear them cough. It is sad.”
“But she is getting better,” said Mr. Korolenko.
“Yes, she is definitely getting better. I made some discreet inquiries and the doctor told me they are most optimistic about her recovery. She is compliant – drinks her milk, listens to the doctors’ slightest advice, and never complains about the long hours she must spend lying down on the veranda. And it’s so cold out there despite the bright sunshine. She loved the shawl you embroidered, Natalya. She used it all the time and said it vas so varm and beautiful it kept cheering her up every time she looked at it or touched it.”
“I am so glad,” said Natalya. “To be so ill and under a cloud of suspicion as well is terrible. Such a burden.” She threw an angry look at Inspector Blount, who pretended not to notice it.
“Her mental state is much better as vell,” said Madame Koska. “She told me she is feeling detached and even disconnected from her life at the ballet; surprisingly, she accepts Victor Parizhsky’s mental illness with equanimity.”
“I heard this is a common reaction to being isolated in a tuberculosis sanatorium,” said Madame Golitsyn. “A friend who spent six long years in one told me that the mountains are so majestic that they become the entire world for the patients. They inspire an otherworldly feeling; common human problems become insignificant, even life and death are treated in a different way, become less important.”
“I am not she vent so far yet,” said Madame Koska, “but I vas happy to hear her make fun of Bassin’s accusations; she did not take them seriously.”
“We made inquiries, of course,” said Inspector Blount. “There is no arrest warrant against Madame Danilova in Moscow. In other words, she had never murdered the alleged ballerina Bassin was talking about.”
“Nor did she try to seduce any young ballerinas,” said Madame Koska. “According to the first accusation Bassin made against her, she tried to do so in Moscow. His story changes according to his vhim or need.”
Inspector Blount stared at her with utter disbelief. “He said that? This is preposterous. To me he only mentioned the murder. I am keeping him in custody until everything is sorted out, anyway.”
“To me it seems he had done something so wrong that even after everything is sorted out, as you say, he needs to pay for it. Lying and implicating another person in a murder case would be considered a crime under the Tsar,” said Natalya indignantly.
“Of course,” said Inspector Blount. “I am not going to let him get away with it, you may be certain of it. He was doing his best to hurt Madame Danilova, and English law does not allow such behaviour any more than Tsarist law.”
Natalya smiled with relief. “I am so glad of it,” she said. “Normally, I am not terribly vindictive. But this malevolent creature really makes me angry. You should have seen how he behaved at Lady Victoria’s party. As if he knew everything.”
“Vhat did Danilov say when you told him about Bassin’s lies?” asked Madame Koska.
Mr. Korolenko laughed. “He nearly exploded with rage. Bassin is lucky to be in custody, Danilov wanted to thrash him.”
“Danilov is another matter,” said Inspector Blount.
Madame Koska looked at him, surprised by his serious tone.
“You don’t think, Inspector…”
“I have no proof,” said the inspector. “But to me he is now the chief suspect. All these boys are his creatures, they blindly follow his orders. I would not be one bit surprised if he put Bassin up to his lies and accusations, and even arranged for his escape, so as to make matters more complex and further away from himself.”
“But why would he wish to murder Victor Parizhsky?” asked Mr. Korolenko. “We were all under the impression that Solange was murdered by accident, and it was Victor who was the real target.”
“It could have been Solange all along. I think he wanted to implicate Madame Danilova in her murder and get rid of both of them at the same time. Remember, he still does not know that she plans to retire. He probably thinks that she would be a disadvantage to his Ballet Baikal. A weakened performer, less attractive to the public every day, insisting on staying on as prima ballerina. She would cost him a fortune. Solange was of no importance to him. I don’t understand ballet, but they tell me she was not good enough to be a prima ballerina, ever. So by removing her, and implicating Madame Danilova, he would achieve the goal of hiring Madame Lavrova,” said the inspector.
“It makes sense,” said Madame Koska. “He vould put the interests of the ballet ahead of his lukewarm affection for Galina.”
“And so he orchestrates, or choreographs, these chaotic scenes to distract us from the reality of what he is doing,” said Mr. Korolenko. “Yes, it is possible, I can’t deny it.”
“I never liked him, as you all know,” said Madame Golitsyn, “but to do so much evil just in order to hire another ballerina? Isn’t it a little far-fetched?”
“It’s not just another ballerina,” said Madame Koska. “Lavrova is more a phenomenon than a human being, as far as the public is concerned. She is legendary. And the lure of having her dance vith Victor, who is also a phenomenon, vas too much for him to resist. So here vere so many loose ends that he knew he could tie up – vith one murder. And perhaps…” she thought for a moment, and then said, “perhaps he knew that the only vay to lure Lavrova to join the Ballet Baikal is to create high drama.”
“And you think he is capable of murder?” asked Natalya, shuddering.
“I have no doubt that he is capable of it,” said Madame Koska. “Given the opportunity, Danilov could commit any crime for the ballet. But I vould have to be convinced that he really felt he needed to get rid of Galina. Does he or does he not know that she plans to retire? If he knew, he had no reason to do anything, just wait for her announcement.”
“We must find out,” said Mr. Korolenko. “Blount, should I confront him? As an old friend, tell him that he is a suspect and something must be done to clear his name? He surely realizes now that the alibi he and Bassin have together is not very strong.”
“Good idea,” said Inspector Blount. “Yes, go and talk to him, Korolenko.”
~~~
“Vera,” said Mr. Korolenko on the telephone, “I have news, and we need to confer. In
spector Blount has positive results from the police laboratory, and M. Danilov has an interesting plan for which we need your help. Also, I saw Danilov.”
Since Madame Koska was at the front desk, and a client was just entering, she could not talk freely.
“Vhere and vhen do you vish to meet?” she said carefully, knowing that from the way she spoke, Mr. Korolenko would understand that they could be overheard.
“I think it would be most discreet if the inspector and I come to your apartment this evening, after dinner,” said Mr. Korolenko. “Beside discretion, we don’t want to interfere with your work day.” It made sense; she really could not afford to keep running to the police station, thought Madame Koska. “Very vell,” she said. “Is anyone else coming?”
“We may telephone M. Danilov,” said Mr. Korolenko. “He may be available after the show. I will see you tonight.” He hung up the phone.
Madame Koska shook her head, apologised to the client, and plunged again into her busy day at the atelier. So many ladies needed a new summer wardrobe… the atelier was full of delicate chiffons and silks for evening gowns, pure white linens and batistes for day wear, and boxes of artificial flowers, laces, and ribbons. The horrible crime mercifully receded from her thoughts.
Around ten o’clock in the evening, Madame Koska received Mr. Korolenko and Inspector Blount with her usual poise, aptly hiding her fatigue. She invited them to sit down, and inquired if they would have tea, or a glass of wine? Both declined any refreshments, and proceeded to business directly.
“The results, I understand, are positive?” asked Madame Koska. “Are they certain?”
“Yes,” said the inspector. “They found a small amount of strychnine, of the same type that killed Solange, on the costume. Very little, but enough to identify it. Of course you know Victor Parizhsky also swallowed strychnine.”
“In other words, gentlemen,” said Madame Koska, “there is no doubt that the murderer had made the attempts on both Solange and Victor.”
“But it was not Danilov,” said Mr. Korolenko. “When I confronted him, and told him he was the chief suspect because of his desire to hire Lavrova, he looked at me as if I was insane and asked me why he should bother to do anything so dangerous when it was perfectly clear that Galina was retiring. I asked him how he knew it, and he said that anyone with half a brain could tell that she would never be able, or willing, to dance again.”
“It certainly points that way,” said the inspector, “I am almost assured that the murderer wanted to kill them both. But we have no idea who, or why. Also, we still are unable to verify with any degree of certainty if Victor Parizhsky tried to commit suicide or was poisoned by someone else.”
“However,” said Mr. Korolenko, “a new situation may help us toward some discoveries, and for that we will need your help, Madame Koska.”
“Vhat is it?” asked Madame Koska.
“I don’t know if you are aware of it, but Danilov had never let anyone film Victor’s dancing. He had allowed other people to be filmed, but for some reason, not Victor.”
“Probably his vay of creating mystery,” said Madame Koska. “The only vay anyone can see the great Parizhsky is on stage… it’s all about money.”
“Yes, but now that Lavrova is here, he decided it would be a good promotional idea to create a record of Victor and Lavrova dancing Le Spectre de la Rose. Of course he claims it is just for posterity. The two greatest ballet dancers in the world, together, for the first time.”
“But Victor is in the hospital. Vould the authorities let him go? And even if they did, could he dance, in his mental state?” asked Madame Koska.
“You know Sasha,” said Mr. Korolenko. “He will persuade the authorities to release Victor for a couple of rehearsals and for the filming. And if he tells Victor to dance, Victor will dance. He obeys Danilov like a puppet on a string.”
“Does M. Danilov know about the poison on the costume?” asked Madame Koska.
“Not yet. We are going to telephone him right now.”
“But… isn’t it dangerous? Vouldn’t the murderer try to kill Victor again?” asked Madame Koska.
“Yes, it is dangerous,” said the inspector. He looked embarrassed. “Well… this is where we need your help, Madame Koska. You can ask M. Danilov to allow you to come to the filming.”
“Vhat kind of excuse can I make? They don’t need costumes for Spectre!” said Madame Koska.
“That you wish to see Lavrova dance. It would help you design her costumes,” said Mr. Korolenko.
“And vhat should I really have to do?”
“Mostly, watch the performance, look for clues on stage to the murder,” said the inspector. “You will have a unique opportunity to sit near the stage.”
“I see…” said Madame Koska. She was quiet for a moment. “Yes, I see vhat you mean, Inspector. Yes, I vill certainly be happy to attend this performance. Cigarette, gentlemen?” and she pulled out her long cigarette holder, offering them her cigarette box, deep in thought.
~~~
M. Danilov seemed glad to see Madame Koska when she visited the next day. He led her to a small, dusty room, its atmosphere full of cigar and cigarettes smoke. She sat on a hard chair by the large wooden table which was covered with old props. She mentioned the filming, pretending great satisfaction that he was accomplishing it, and asked if M. Danilov thought Victor would be allowed out of the hospital for the filming and the rehearsals.
“He does not need any rehearsals,” said M. Danilov irritably. “He will just need to come to the theatre an hour earlier, and warm up with the usual exercises. He knows Spectre perfectly.”
“And you are sure they vill let him out of the hospital?” asked Madame Koska. “I heard some pretty sad rumours about how fragile he is, M. Danilov. They say that he just sits quietly all day long, either daydreaming or drawing unpleasant pictures of large dark eyes. Galina told me the pictures vere intended to make people stop vatching him all the time, vhatever it means.”
“He is better, the doctors told me,” said M. Danilov. “Besides he wants to dance so much that the doctors think it actually may help him recover.”
Madame Koska doubted the information, which she suspected was Danilov’s wishful thinking. However, she said nothing and just nodded.
“Galina spends too much time and efforts worrying about things she should stop thinking about,” continued M. Danilov. “She should concentrate on relaxing and getting well. I have the situation well in hand.”
He knows, thought Madame Koska; he does not really care. What a heartless creature he must be.
“And what can I do for you, Madame Koska?” asked the impresario, clearly trying to change the subject.
“Only that I vould appreciate it if you allow me to attend the filming,” said Madame Koska. “It’s a rare opportunity to see Madame Lavrova dance, vhich vould be so helpful for designing her costumes; her unique style vill influence the vay ve sew the costumes.”
“Certainly,” said M. Danilov. “Anything to help you along, Madame Koska. I will let you know the exact time; we plan to do it as soon as I can hire the film crew.” Madame Koska was surprised M. Danilov showed no objection and accepted her excuse, which to her seemed quite flimsy. One simply did not know with M. Danilov.
On her way home, Madame Koska thought about the last telephone call she had from Galina, just before she left for Switzerland. How different from her husband, how caring she was.
“Vera, I want to ask you a favour,” she had said quietly on the phone that day. “If at all possible, would you keep an eye on Victor? I am terribly worried about him.”
“Of course,” said Madame Koska. “At least, I can try. I don’t know if he trusts me.”
“I told him to come to you if he is in trouble,” said Galina. “Forgive me for presuming, but I knew you would help.”
“It is perfectly all right,” said Madame Koska. “He listens to you. Does he know you are leaving so soon?”
“No�
� I could not bring myself to tell him. A few more days at the hospital, I hope, would give him some strength to accept the fact, so I decided to leave it unsaid. He knows I have to go, but not the exact date.”
“So stop vorrying, Galina. I am sure M. Danilov, even, vould vhen obsessed not harm Victor.”
“I wish I could be sure about it,” said Galina. “But now, when it is possible that Victor’s useful days are over because of his mental state, and there is a new star in Sasha’s life, I fear he simply won’t care. Well… I have done all I could. I will soon write to you, and I hope you will be so kind as to write back and let me know how Victor survived the filming.”
“Of course I vill,” said Madame Koska. “Ve vill communicate regularly.”
At least, thought Madame Koska as she was returning to the atelier, Galina was more relaxed at the hospital and hopefully recovering. It would be lovely to have her in London.
Chapter Eleven
As it so often happens, the call about the filming came at a very bad time. Madame Koska was in the midst of a consultation with a very important client – a wealthy member of the nobility – who had ordered an entire summer wardrobe. One of the dresses, a deliciously soft, white chiffon, had to be heavily beaded over the entire bodice and tiny cap sleeves. Natalya, as chief beader, was sitting with Madame Koska and the customer, looking at several intricate sketches of beading patterns. Deciding in advance what quantity of beads would give the necessary opulent look but still not pull the fabric with its weight, was not easy.
“I suggest making a small sample,” said Natalya. “I really can’t tell how many beads would start pulling the fabric down.”
“But won’t it take a long time?” asked the customer anxiously.
“Not vhen Miss Saltykov does the beading,” said Madame Koska. “She is very fast. In the meantime, ve can start cutting the other dresses.”
At this moment, Gretchen entered, and told Madame Koska that M. Danilov wished to speak with her. Madame Koska apologised to the client and went to the telephone.