‘That is fascinating, Colonel Brouzet. So somebody like Alfred Bolm in the Ballets Russes might have been the spy carrying information on to France, or he could have been the intermediary who met the courier in his dressing room, or at his chess club, where he was a regular visitor.’
‘Chess club? What is this chess club? You have chess clubs for spies here in London?’
Powerscourt laughed. ‘It is near our British Museum, a place where historians and scholars go to write their books; it has an enormous collection of ancient statues and sacred figures from all over the world. That’s where the Elgin Marbles are kept. A number of the people who work there — some Russians, a number of Eastern Europeans — go to this chess club and test their wits against the locals. Bolm was a regular customer in his time in London.’
‘That is not all, my friend. What I am going to tell you now is much more serious. We have reason to believe that the Okhrana in St Petersburg recently sent a top man to London with the code name Andrei Rublev, who was — as you know — a famous painter of Russian icons back in the fifteenth century. Whether his namesake is going to carry out any religious artwork here in London, I rather doubt. He has been sent to secure the position of Alfred Bolm, if it is indeed Bolm who is responsible, and to make sure that none of those bothering him at present continue to do so. This is how they would do things in Russia, secure in the knowledge that nobody is going to ask questions about the doings of the Okhrana.’
‘Do I understand that you think I would be regarded as one of those bothering Monsieur Bolm at present? And what would be my fate, do you suppose?’
‘That I do not know. Beaten up, broken leg, face smashed in? Worse? Murder?’
‘That’s cheering news, Colonel Brouzet. But do you think this Andrei Rublev actually wants to kill me?’
‘Without knowing how valuable the information hidden in those equations actually is, I cannot be definite. But I should definitely watch your step. I should watch your step very carefully indeed.’
‘Thank you very much indeed. I was going to ask you a question about your source for this information and it seems to me that there is one route that is most likely. But it also seems to me that I should not ask you if you have been reading the Okhrana telegrams over there in the Place des Vosges.’
‘You would be quite right not to ask the question. And I would be quite right in telling you that I could not possibly be expected to give you an honest answer.’
Natasha Shaporova arrived at the same time as a note from Rosebery saying he would be delighted to see Powerscourt at tea time in Berkeley Square.
‘I am so sorry, Lord Powerscourt, I feel I have let you down over those letters and the diary.’
‘Never mind, Natasha, I am sure nobody else could have done half so well. You did discover that there was something suspicious going on after all.’
He filled her in on all the details of what had happened since: the discovery of the diary and the secret meeting at the Kingfisher Hotel at dawn. He mentioned nothing of the warnings from Colonel Brouzet of the French Secret Service.
‘Do you suppose you will solve the mystery as dawn comes up over the Thames, Lord Powerscourt? That would be an exciting way to put an end to our enquiries.’
‘Who knows,’ said Powerscourt, feeling that if the case went on much longer, he would have to apply to train as a Delphic oracle.
‘But I am so glad you are back. I have an urgent task for you.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Let me put it like this. When you discover a secret, or somebody tells you a secret, what is the first thing you want to do?’
‘Tell somebody else about it,’ said Natasha. ‘It’s quite hard to resist the need to share a secret so that you’re not carrying it alone.’
‘And who would you be most likely to tell the secret to?’
‘To somebody you trusted,’ said Natasha. ‘That’s what I would do, anyway.’
‘Well, we have no way of knowing who, if anybody, Alexander talked to. He may have told his parents, but it’s not the same as telling somebody in London. They were so far away. He would have been most likely to have told somebody in his immediate circle. Isn’t that so?’
‘It is. I think I see what you want me to do, Lord Powerscourt. You want me to go back to all those girls in the corps de ballet and ask if Alexander told them he had a great secret. People always get excited if they think they are about to be told something special. Am I right?’
‘You are absolutely right, Natasha. But be careful not to give anything away. Not a word about mathematical equations or secret formulae, just general questions.’
‘I was never any good at mathematics, Lord Powerscourt. Even the simple things they tried to teach us. Two — no, three — governesses gave up on me completely about the nine times tables.’
Rosebery, it seemed to Powerscourt, had already been on a Delphic oracle course before Powerscourt called at his house in Berkeley Square.
‘These matters around the Ballets Russes are difficult and dangerous, my friend. I have been able to discover a little more about the meeting at the Kingfisher. I presume you have discovered that is a hotel for the middle classes on the banks of the Thames. I have not, so far, been able to secure you an invitation, if that is the right word.’
‘Come on, Rosebery, surely you can tell me something of what it is about?’
‘That is precisely what I cannot do. I am told to warn you to be very careful. The whole thing could become very dangerous, especially for you.’
‘Will you be able to obtain an invitation of sorts before the thing starts? There is only a day and a bit left, for heaven’s sake. A man would want to get there the evening before, if possible. Or am I just to present myself at the gate and ask where the equations are kept?’
‘Whatever you do, my friend, do not, I repeat, do not turn up at this place without an invitation.’
‘And will my host be one person or am I going to meet a committee of some sort, advanced mathematicians all?’
‘Powerscourt, I have known and respected you for a number of years. I value our friendship very greatly. It would cause me considerable pain to have to call for Leith the butler and ask him to show you the door.’
‘You’re throwing me out?’
‘It’s only for your own good, I promise you.’
Natasha Shaporova went to the Royal Opera House early the following morning and took the first three members of the corps de ballet across to the Fielding Hotel. But she found that a change had taken place in the girls. They simply refused to speak about the murder at all. They changed the subject or they talked about that evening’s performance. They complained about the English weather. Or they talked about how sorry they would be to have to leave London. But of diaries or letters or assignations or secrets, they would speak not a word. Even when Natasha tried another tack, asking who had spoken to them, emphasizing the virtues of silence, they would not break their silence.