For a moment Madame Koska’s heart leapt up into her throat and fell down again with a thud, but no one could have seen it on her impassive face. She took out her cigarette box and opened it. “I go to Mr. Korolenko to improve my English, of course. I vould like to get rid of the accent, speak like a regular Englishvoman. Cigarette, officer?”
Five
“Mr. Korolenko, I need your help… this is a troublesome situation,” said Madame Koska as she settled down at the desk for her lesson.
“What is it?” asked Mr. Korolenko, looking up from the books he was arranging.
“I do hate to involve you, really,” said Madame Koska. “It’s so delicate…”
Mr. Korolenko put his hands on the desk and looked at them. Madame Koska noticed his habit of doing so when he was thinking, and she waited for what he was about to say. He raised his head and looked at her. “Madame Koska, I will not ask you to trust my virtue, but you can rely on my discretion,” he said.
“Yes,” said Madame Koska pensively. “I do rely on it, obviously, and what is virtue, really? So relative… Well, you know about the attempted robbery at my atelier. There is not a single clue as to what took place, and I think the police will not pay much more attention to it. However, what bothers me is that the police officer asked me why I visited you. He knows you, or about you, since he said that you teach languages, among other things you engage in, whatever that means. I had to think on my feet, so I told him that I come to you to improve my English, take care of my Russian accent. I am not sure if he believed me.”
“I see,” said Mr. Korolenko. “So you think there is a chance that the real reason for your coming here will be discovered; yes, it would be embarrassing. But what you told him was clever, and I suggest that from now on I should come to the atelier, once in a while, to give you the lessons.”
“Exactly what I thought, Mr. Korolenko. And what’s more, we should allow ourselves to be overheard by the seamstresses as you correct my English. It’s always a good idea to hide something in plain sight…”
Mr. Korolenko laughed. “Shades of Edgar Allan Poe come to mind…”
“The Purloined Letter?” said Madame Koska thoughtfully. “Yes indeed…”
“You read Poe, Madame Koska?”
“I read many things,” said Madame Koska. “But yes, I am very fond of mystery stories. They are exciting, and I love puzzling over the solution.”
“I had no idea you were a great reader,” said Mr. Korolenko.
“It’s a habit,” said Madame Koska. “You see, I come from a working-class London family. I had no chance of getting a good education, though I wanted it very much, so I got into the habit of reading everything I could find. Later on in Paris I worked very hard both before and after I was married and had no time for formal schooling, but I went on reading.”
“Well, well,” said Mr. Korolenko. “How interesting… What other things do you read?”
“Literature, mostly. In English I read Dickens, Thackeray, and Trollope, among others… In French I like Hugo, Voltaire, Balzac, many more, really. Poetry, some philosophy… I tried so hard. It was not a systematic education, but it was the best I could do, and it became a part of my life. But yes, I read many mysteries, Arthur Conan Doyle as well as Poe. Have you read Émile Gaboriau? Interesting French crime fiction. And also I found out about this new author, a young woman, who recently published her first book. I think she is going to be very famous. She created a fascinating detective, a little Belgian gentleman, and the plot was very, very clever.”
“And do you keep up with interesting cases in the real world?” asked Mr. Korolenko.
“No, I don’t have time for the newspapers these days.”
“So I suppose you did not hear about the mysterious disappearance of a piece of Russian jewelry,” said Mr. Korolenko.
“No, what is it?”
“A brooch that had once belonged to Catherine the Great. Apparently, after the revolution it was placed in a museum in a little provincial town by the Baltic Sea, I forget its name, to protect it. The security was excellent, but against all odds, the brooch vanished from its case. The museum is devastated.”
“Catherine the Great? I don’t know much about her other than what my friend, Madame Golitsyn, told me about the scandal of her pregnancies.”
“Oh, yes, it was quite a story. I read her memoirs, and would you believe, she did not try to hide any of the scandals; some historians think she even exaggerated them. I wouldn’t be surprised; everything she did was larger than life.”
“She seems to represent Russia, to embody it, to so many people,” said Madame Koska.
“Yes, this is a good insight; she did in so many ways. Interestingly, she was not Russian by birth. She was born in Prussia and her name was Sophie Friederike Auguste von Anhalt-Zerbst-Dornburg. But once she married Peter the Third, she adopted Russia wholeheartedly and assumed the Russian persona in every way. She made Russia into a great power.”
“She must have left a lot of jewelry. Is this stolen piece important?”
“She used to be practically covered with jewelry when she received people each evening; she had a habit of dressing up even for close friends. People said she was dazzling. She was not a classical beauty, but there was something attractive, even compelling, about her. It was not the famous emerald brooch, by the way, that was stolen. That one is safe.”
“I really don’t know a thing about the emerald brooch… so what was this one?”
“It’s a large sapphire, I believe, and yes, it’s an important, valuable piece. I am not sure who inherited Catherine’s jewelry, but I know that quite a bit of her collection found its way to museums after the Revolution. I imagine originally the pieces were given to her children.”
“A seamstress in my atelier has the same name as the father of one of Catherine’s children. Her name is Miss Natalya Saltykov.”
“Yes, some of the great families are still with us. A Saltykov working as a seamstress… it could break your heart.”
“Not my heart, Mr. Korolenko. I am a working woman.”
“You carry it off with great style, Madame Koska,” said Mr. Korolenko gallantly. “You look and sound like a high-born lady, and you certainly have aristocratic features.”
Madame Koska laughed. “Thank you, Mr. Korolenko. Madame Golitsyn always says I look more Russian than she does… Of course I work on the accent, and dress for the image; it pays off.”
“Yes, image is important in these strange times… So, on more immediate matters, we agree that I will come to the atelier for the next lesson, correct?”
“Yes, let’s do it. Of course I will still have to come here if I want to learn Russian… even if I am followed by the police. Incidentally, what did the police officer mean when he said you are engaged in other things, not just teaching languages?”
Mr. Korolenko sighed. “Nothing criminal, Madame Koska. I know it sounds like it, coming from a police officer, but I have never committed a crime. But I know what he meant… I sometimes translate documents for people who call themselves ‘businessmen’ and who expect me to forget the content as soon as I hand them the finished work, so I oblige and forget it. I can’t very well tell you more than that. They generally come from different parts of the world; I have many international connections.”
“I see,” said Madame Koska. “I won’t press you… I understand completely. One must survive! Well, shall we start with the lesson?”
“Madame Koska, may I come in?”
“Certainly, Miss Saltykov. Vhy, you are so early!” said Madame Koska.