“Ve’ll think about it,” said Madame Koska firmly. “I am not sure it’s safe.”
“They used to do it at the House of Kitmir,” said Natalya. “But it’s true that we sometimes burned our hands…”
“Kitmir is all very well,” said Madame Koska. “But Countess Maria Pavlovna is not the best manager… I hear she is losing Madame Coco Chanel’s business.”
“Yes, I heard the same,” said Natalya. “It created a big scandal in the haute couture houses in Paris.”
At that time they reached the church. To her annoyance, Madame Koska realised she had missed the rest of the conversation between Mr. Korolenko and Inspector Blount. And most annoying, she could never ask because that would show she was eavesdropping. But the conversation with Natalya was somehow comforting. It showed that despite her disconcerting new good looks she was still the same old Natalya, obsessed with her embroidery. Madame Koska laughed inwardly at the momentary awful suspicion she felt against the poor girl. Such nonsense… Annushka’s niece was above suspicion, wasn’t she?
“Very vell,” she said. “I do trust you know best vhen it comes to embroidery. Ve’ll convert the small storage room at the back, the one vith the vindow, into an ironing room. And by the vay, you look very nice this evening, Miss Saltykov.”
Nine
The next morning, Madame Koska and Madame Golitsyn were strolling in the park. Though a sunny day, it was very cold, and they had the park almost to themselves.
“So would you please tell me why we could not meet in a café, and have breakfast in a nice warm room?” asked Madame Golitsyn.
“We will have breakfast shortly,” said Madame Koska, “and plenty of hot coffee. But we must be away from walls, doors, and people; we need a place where no one can listen. In these new detective books I am reading now, people can listen through some devices…”
“Very well,” said Madame Golitsyn. “So what is it?”
“Annushka,” said Madame Koska. “Who is Orlov?”
“Orlov? Which one, the lover of Catherine the Great, or any of the modern Orlovs?”
“I need to know everything you could tell me about any Orlov,” said Madame Koska. “You see, I overheard a discussion between Mr. Korolenko and Inspector Blount. They think Orlov is a cat burglar who is involved in the theft of the Imperial Brooch everyone is talking about. I would not pay attention to it, since what do I have to do with imperial jewels? However, Inspector Blount told me during dinner that the robbers in the atelier may not be related to the Eurasian gang, but to an unnamed cat burglar. This cannot be a coincidence; two cat burglars mentioned in one evening?”
“No, of course not,” said Madame Golitsyn. “It has to be the same person.”
“Exactly. So, who is Orlov?”
“The Orlovs are a very old, very distinguished Russian family. The patriarch, the first one who was rather well known, was the governor of Great Novgorod. He had five sons. The second eldest, Grigory Grigoryevich Orlov, was educated in the corps of cadets at Saint Petersburg, and rose to distinction as a very young man during the Seven Year’s War. Catherine, at that point only a Grand Duchess and married to the ineffective and repulsive Peter III, noticed Orlov while he served at the capital. He quickly became her lover, and was instrumental, with the help of his four brothers, in the conspiracy that had Peter killed and Catherine declared Empress. She made him a count, an adjutant-general, a director-general of engineers, and a general-in-chief. He became extremely influential and wealthy, and even had a son with Catherine—but she would not marry him for some State reasons. The son, being illegitimate, did not bear the name Orlov. He was known as Aleksey Grigoryevich Bobrinsky, so his descendants, while quite distinguished, were not Orlovs. By the way, Grigory Orlov was extraordinarily handsome…”
“And a good statesman?”
“Well, yes, to a point, but his aim, in whatever he did, was to please Catherine first and above all. Still, he was effective and useful in many of the better reforms, and had a liberal and intelligent attitude to social change. His only flaw was his arrogance, which caused the failure of one of his most important projects, negotiating with the Ottomans, who were just as obstinate as dear Grigory.”
“I can almost see him, handsome, insolent…”
“Yes… I will show you his portrait; I have it on a postcard somewhere. The portraits were formalised in those days, so they did not do him justice, but the records simply gush about his beauty. He was blond, very tall, athletic, with broad shoulders and a strong build. His clear, light blue eyes were striking and they said his smile was lovely—it would light his entire face. Anyway, he came back to Saint Petersburg without permission, certain that Catherine would protect him, only to find that she had taken another lover, Grigory Potemkin.”
“It seems that half the men in Russia are named Grigory, and half of these were Catherine’s lovers… Le Cochon has many namesakes he could have been proud of.”
“Oh yes, it’s a very common name. You won’t find too many families who do not have at least one or two men named Grigory among them.”
“From what I hear about Catherine, men found her extremely attractive, did they not?”
“Well… I suppose so; she had many lovers. She liked men and they served to relax her; she was constantly under severe strain keeping her huge empire going. She worked very hard, too. They say she drank coffee as dark and thick as mud, and in large quantities, so she could stay awake half the nights, working.”
“And what happened to Grigory Orlov?”
“He tried in vain to recapture Catherine’s heart by giving her many jewels, including what was then considered the biggest diamond in the world, known as the Orlov Diamond. When he realised she would not come back to him, he left the country and lived in Europe. At some point he returned to Russia and married a young woman who may have been his niece, but they had no children. She died very young, from consumption. He died after a few months of early dementia, I think, or some mental illness anyway. He was only forty-nine years old…”
“Sad story, such a wonderful man to be thrown away like that.”
“It seems that Potemkin was rather brilliant and more amusing. I think she got tired of Orlov.”
“So since the child he had with Catherine was illegitimate and not an Orlov, who, then, continued the Orlov family?”
“He had brothers, those who helped in the conspiracy; there were five of them altogether, counting Grigory.”
“Oh, yes, you mentioned them,” said Madame Koska. “So there are plenty of descendants.”
“Yes, they were a respectable, successful family before the Revolution—except for one of them. From a very young age he was involved in petty crimes, and while still quite young he was caught in a terrible scandal—a failed jewel theft on a large scale. When they came to arrest him, they found that he disappeared. That happened twenty, thirty years ago, I am not sure. No one knows where he is or what he is doing, or even if he is alive.”
“So Inspector Blount seems to think he is the one who stole the Imperial Brooch. I wonder why he thinks that. For all we know, this Orlov might have died years ago.”
“Yes, a bit far-fetched,” said Madame Golitsyn. “But Scotland Yard may have some fresh evidence.”
“Not really, since he also thinks that our cat burglar is French, because of a French note he found near a safe the cat burglar opened.”
“If you ask me, Vera, Inspector Blount has no idea what to think. After all, many Russians read French as well as they do their own language, particularly the upper classes; most of the nobility were entirely bilingual.”
“Exactly… which is why I must start investigating, Annushka. I simply can’t allow these thugs, whoever they are, to interfere with my first collection in London!”