Ilil Arbel: Madame Koska and the Imperial Brooch

“That is nonsense! Anyway, now I found you. How is your charming father?”

“Quite well, he is working with Aunt Anna. We are all working, and very happy to be safe in London.”

“You will come to visit, bring the family, and no more silliness about it,” said Lady Victoria firmly.

“I promise,” said Natalya. Lady Victoria prepared to leave after pushing her card into Natalya’s hand and hugging her again. “What a dress you made for me, darling,” she said.

“You remember how I loved doing beading and pearl embroidery? And since Madame Koska so generously offered me the job, why not put it to use now and make a new life using my skills?”

“Absolutely true,” said Lady Victoria.

“And I am teaching all the other women some of the old styles,” said Natalya. “Soon they will all be better than I am.”

“I doubt that,” said Madame Koska, “but even if they are half as good, ve vill soon be the best atelier in London for beading and embroidery.”

“And with your wonderful dress designs, Madame Koska, it will be even better than the Paris houses,” said Lady Victoria. “I am enchanted with the dress.”

“You will be the belle of the ball,” said Natalya, laughing. “But then you always are!” Lady Victoria left, laughing as well, and Madame Koska was delighted to see how far Natalya had advanced in shedding her timidity and pain. This newly discovered friend would help to continue the process of getting Natalya out of her shell, she hoped.

“I will go to Aunt Anna after work,” said Natalya. “She will be delighted that Victoria and I met here.”

“You knew it vas her all along, didn’t you,” said Madame Koska, smiling.

“Oh, yes, but I was waiting to write to her until the police and robberies and all that is over,” said Natalya.

“Quite reasonable,” Madame Koska agreed. “But I am sure it is going to be resolved very soon.”

“I wish Inspector Blount would be quicker about it,” said Natalya. “He is not proceeding very well.”

“I am sure he is doing his best,” said Madame Koska. “By the vay, he seems to like you. And he is a very nice man.”

“Like me? To me it seems he is constantly trying to intimidate me,” said Natalya.

“To me it seems you intimidate him, dear,” said Madame Koska. Natalya laughed but did not deny the allegation.

The day passedquickly, as it always did in the busy atelier, and when the time came for the seamstresses to leave, Madame Koska said to Gretchen, “Vhy don’t you go upstairs and rest for a few minutes. I’ll just put avay the papers and bills, and file Lady Victoria’s order. Then ve must have some dinner and try to have an early night.”

“Yes, indeed,” said Gretchen. “I keep waiting for something to happen and it’s exhausting. At least I think we don’t have to worry about the sisters anymore.” She took her things and left. Madame Koska put away all the bills, orders, and other papers, filed Lady Victoria’s order, and decided to call it a night and go upstairs.

As she opened the front door, a man stepped forward, holding a gun. “Please stop, Madame Koska. I will not hesitate to shoot.”

Madame Koska stopped and nodded. “May I ask who you are?” she said.

“I work for the Eurasian company that Mr. Howard is involved with,” said the Man. “Miss Van der Hoven knows me. I met her on her way when she came to London.”

“I see,” said Madame Koska. This had to be the man who threatened Gretchen and forced her to take a job at the atelier, she thought. “So vhy are you pointing a gun at me, and vhat is it that you vant from me?”

“Because you must come with me; there is someone who wishes to speak to you.”

“Who vants to see me?” asked Madame Koska.

“I cannot tell you right now, but you will soon find out,” said the man.

“But don’t you realise that as soon as the police officers across the street see us, they vill do something about it?” asked Madame Koska.

“We are not going through the front,” said the man. “We are going to get back into the atelier, go to the room that looks over the courtyard, and go out through the window. There is a ladder leaning against it for your convenience.”

“But there is a police officer stationed there as vell,” said Madame Koska.

“We have taken care of him,” said the man.

“You killed him?” said Madame Koska, horrified.

“No, no. Killing a police officer in England would be too conspicuous. It would bring the entire force against us and much unwanted publicity. We have just given him a drug that would make him sleep for a few hours.”

“Like vhat you gave me during the robbery?”

“A bit stronger, I am afraid. We must go now.”

They entered the atelier. The man seemed to know the exact layout of the place and they went together to Natalya’s little ironing room at the back. While constantly pointing the gun at Madame Koska, the man walked to the window and opened it. Madame Koska eyed the window with discomfort. How was she supposed to climb through it? The man, as if reading her thoughts, dragged a chair to the window and said, “I suggest you take off your shoes and throw them out of the window. We’ll pick them up when we reach the ground.” Madame Koska shrugged, knowing that she had no choice. She slipped her bag over her arm, removed her shoes and threw them out of the window, climbed on the chair, lifted her skirt just a little, and managed to get out of the window, if a bit clumsily, and onto the ladder that leaned against it. Reaching the bottom of the ladder, she blessed the atelier for being only one floor above ground, found her shoes, and put them on.

The man led her through a dark alley, and into a quiet street. A car stood there, with the driver waiting and the motor running. The man motioned her to get into the back seat, sat next to her, and the driver, who did not turn around, took off immediately. They drove for a while until they reached an area that was near the river. It was hidden in the darkness, but Madame Koska heard the splashing of water. The car stopped in front of a small house, from which came strains of music, unexpected in such a dark and unpleasant neighbourhood. The man opened the door for her, and led her inside.

Entering the house, Madame Koska was surprised by its ordinary, even cheerful, appearance. It seemed to be a regular night club, crowded with nicely dressed men and women who were having drinks and listening to a singer and a small band. On the side there was a dance floor, and a few couples were dancing. “Go on,” said the man quietly, standing close behind Madame Koska and pushing the gun into the small of her back.

“Vhere to?” asked Madame Koska.

“Look to the right,” said the man. “You will see a red curtain. It hides an open door. Just push it and go through.”

Doing as she was told, Madame Koska passed through the curtain into what seemed to be a totally different world, only vaguely connected to the other room by the muffled sounds of the singer’s voice. The room was in half darkness, but she could clearly see that several divans were arranged around the room along the walls. Two long divans stood in the middle of the room, dividing it in half. A number of men reclined on the divans, smoking a substance that smelled strong and sweet. The scent made Madame Koska clear her throat and cough, but no one paid any attention to her; the smokers were isolated in their own world. So this had to be the opium den by the river, thought Madame Koska, disgusted. This is where Mr. Howard would go… how dreadful. But why would they bring her here? What did she have to do with an opium den? She did not have time to ponder, because the man was leading her through the room into another one, a small room that was also in half-darkness. By then, however, her eyes began to adjust and she could see that the room was crowded with furniture, a big desk with a chair, a couch, and some armchairs.