David Dickinson - Death Comes to the Ballets Russes

‘And there haven’t been any times when one nephew stepped out of line, as it were, and was immediately sent packing from the top of the family tree?’

‘It didn’t work like that, Mr Fitzgerald. I don’t think it would have made any difference if one of the cousins had married a parlour maid or eloped with a chorus girl — that wouldn’t have changed a thing.’

‘So, as far as you knew, these arrivals and removals, as it were, came completely at random?’

‘For all I know, it could have happened when some financial deal came through or he lost heavily at cards.’

‘So what would you think was the motive for all this? It must have caused a great deal of unhappiness among the relations.’

‘Only if they let it. I know my brother is as bad as my mother and my aunt, pretending it doesn’t matter, while following the story as closely as they do. You ask about motive, Mr Fitzgerald. It might be my profession, but I think he’s a wicked old man. A lonely old man, with no family of his own, he likes teasing his relations with the one thing he has that they don’t — and that’s lots of money.’

‘One last thing. I have to ask everyone this, Mr Cooper. Have you attended any of the performances of the Ballets Russes either here or at Blenheim?’

‘I knew that question would come. On the day of the great concert at Blenheim I was here, pretending to tend my garden and thinking about my sermon for the Sunday.’

Literally ‘turn in the air’. A jump, typically for a male, with a full rotation. The landing can be to both feet; on one leg with the other extended in attitude or arabesque; or down to one knee, as at the end of a variation. A single tour is a 360° rotation, a double is 720°. Vaslav Nijinsky was known to perform triple tours en l’air.

Inspector Dutfield brought news from Oxford.

‘Let me bring you up to date with the news from Blenheim, my lord. Inspector Jackson has been most thorough. He asked the indoor staff, via the butler — as their head man — rather than through his own officers, how many strangers they thought they had seen about the place on the big day. They had met most of the technical people during meals in the servants’ hall, and most of the dancers and suchlike getting ready for the performance. They thought there were four they had never seen before. All sounded Russian. Two of them had coats with those astrakhan collars. One of them appeared to speak neither French nor English, so we can probably rule him out, assuming he wasn’t pretending. One might have been a stagehand. Descriptions — imperfect though they obviously are — have been circulated round Oxford. I expect they’ll ask on the trains as well. I don’t think that takes us very far forward. We’re still looking for two people on the relevant night in Covent Garden.’

Powerscourt felt glad, not for the first time, that he wasn’t a policeman. All that leg work, all those questions, always the same as the ones you had asked five minutes before, the endless writing of notes. He’d have grown so bored he would have made a mistake.

‘Well done, indeed, Inspector. At least that might produce something in the end. Please send our thanks to Inspector Jackson. We too have had some information. Two telegrams from Natasha Shaporova, reading Alexander’s mail in St Petersburg.

‘“What am I, Mama, Russian or English?” That’s the first one. The second could be connected to the first, or maybe not.

‘“Ivan” — that’s the elder brother — “has told me of the decision you may have to make. I think you should consult Papa as well as Ivan. That would be for the best.” Ivan is the elder brother. Lucy, what do you think?’

‘They could be linked, as you say, Francis. Surely the first one could be something terribly simple, like who he should support in a football match between Russia and England, that sort of thing. But the second could relate to something more serious, as if there’s something worrying him.’

‘He may just wonder where his loyalties ought to lie,’ said the Inspector. ‘He wants to take his bearings, which people he belongs with, that sort of thing.’

‘I suspect we need something more specific, don’t we?’ said Powerscourt. ‘And why, if we think it is serious for a moment, why would he want to know whether he’s English or Russian? I don’t see the context myself. It’s not as if there’s a war on and he has to decide which side to join.’

‘Tell me this,’ said Lady Lucy. ‘Where are the letters Alexander Taneyev received here? There must be answers of some kind in there. They must be in police storage somewhere, is that not so, Inspector? Then we could read the correspondence at both ends.’

Inspector Dutfield smacked his hand very firmly on his knee.

‘Of course, Lady Powerscourt. How right you are. Why didn’t we think of that sooner? I’m sorry about that.’

‘Never mind, Inspector,’ said Powerscourt. ‘I’m as guilty as you are. But you could lay your hands on them, couldn’t you?’

‘It’ll take a day or two,’ said Inspector Dutfield, ‘but we can certainly locate them. I’ve got one other piece of news to impart. You remember that duel in the forest glade outside St Petersburg? A member of the Taneyev family and a member of the Solkonsky family? Well, we’ve checked the names of all the Russians staying in hotels in the capital for the past week or so. At Brown’s Hotel in Mayfair there is at present a certain Mr Leonid Solkonsky, who gives an address in St Petersburg.’

‘God bless my soul!’ said Powerscourt. ‘You’ve been keeping that one pretty close to your chest, Inspector.’

‘You don’t know yet if he is a relation, do you, Inspector?’

‘I’m afraid, Lady Powerscourt, that as he is staying at a pretty expensive establishment, it might be better if your husband talked to him rather than a mere policeman.’

‘Do Russians not like policemen, Inspector?’ Lady Lucy was looking very determined all of a sudden. ‘Do you think they are more suspicious than people here?’

‘I asked one of the translators, Lady Lucy. They said people in St Petersburg would always be more suspicious of policemen than people in London.’

‘I wonder why.’

‘I don’t think this is the best time for a discussion on the relative popularity of police forces, Lucy, interesting though that would be,’ said Powerscourt, rising from the sofa to pace about his drawing room.

‘I shall drop this fellow a note at his hotel, saying I propose to call on him tomorrow morning at eleven o’clock. Any change of plan to be sent back by the footman who brings the note. How’s that?’

‘Capital,’ said Inspector Dutfield.

As he went down the flight of stairs to his study, Powerscourt wondered what would happen if he put the real questions directly. Are you a direct relation of the Solkonsky who fought a duel with a member of the family Taneyev all those years ago? How did you get into the Royal Opera House? Did you bring a knife or a dagger with you? Even as he signed his note, he realized there was one question that might make trouble for his cause. Why are you still here?

Peter Cooper had a pile of schoolbooks on each side of his table when Johnny Fitzgerald called. This particular Cooper was not in a vicarage but in a spacious ground-floor flat in a large house off the Woodstock Road in Oxford.

‘Mr Fitzgerald, how kind of you to call. I’ve been expecting you. As you can see, I’m a history teacher at the boys’ school here in Oxford, and today is the day I mark the latest history essays.’ He nodded at the two heaps of notebooks on his desk by the window.

‘Are your charges doing well, Mr Cooper? Taking in what you have told them? Potential scholars all?’