Ilil Arbel: Madame Koska and the Imperial Brooch

“Please sit down, Madame Koska,” the man said. “I will have to leave you here for a few minutes, to tell the person who wishes to see you that we have arrived. Do not try to leave the room. There will be a guard outside the door, and as you can see, there are no windows. So please just wait a few minutes.”

Madame Koska sat on the couch. She did not have to wait long since in a few minutes she heard voices outside the door. The man’s voice was saying, “No, no trouble at all. The officers in the front saw nothing. The one in the back passed out cold, but he is not hurt.”

“Are you sure?” said another voice. “If a police officer was killed, I will be very displeased.” Madame Koska froze, and a cold shiver ran down her spine. She felt the blood rushing to her head, then abruptly draining, leaving her cold and shaky. She was sure she was about to faint or go into hysterics, and her shaking was so strong she almost dropped her handbag. And just as suddenly she prevailed and felt a complete, total calm envelop her, as if she stood in the eye of a hurricane. She took the gun out of her handbag and cocked it. Then she got up, stood behind the couch, and waited.

“I assure you, sir. He will be fine in a few hours. We placed him against the wall of the house; he will wake up with only a bit of a headache.”

“Very well,” said the other voice. “And are you certain no one followed you?”

“I am certain.”

“Well done. I will go and talk to Madame Koska now. Don’t let anyone disturb us until I call you. No one should walk into this room no matter what.”

“Yes, sir. I will inform the guard.”

Slowly, the door opened and a tall man entered the room, closed the door behind him, and turned toward her. Even in the semi-darkness she could see his clear, bright blue eyes.

“Hello, Grigory,” Madame Koska said in a very quiet and steady voice, and pointed the gun at him.

Grigory raised his hands slowly, saying nothing. Suddenly he laughed. “How lovely to see you again, chérie,” he said in French.

“Thank you,” said Madame Koska, also in French.

“How did you know it was me, Vera? After all, I did make a death certificate, quite authentic, too.”

“I did not know until I heard you outside the door,” said Madame Koska. “However, I never really believed the death certificate was legitimate.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I knew your name is not Koska. The death certificate was under that name.”

“I could not really have it done under any other name,” said Grigory. “That is the name everyone associates me with.”

“So you are really involved in crimes,” said Madame Koska.

“Yes, I am,” said Grigory. “No point in denying it.”

“Are you behind the disappearance of the brooch?” asked Madame Koska.

“Yes, I stole it from the museum. There is a buyer for it, wealthy beyond belief. This should be my last job.”

“And you are connected with this Eurasian crime ring.”

“Yes, I am. Actually, they are my ring; I have been heading the crime ring for years.”

“Even during our marriage?”

“Yes, of course. I built the ring long before we met. Do you remember how much I was travelling?”

“Yes, but I believed you travelled on the atelier’s business. Of course you could have done both.”

“That is exactly what I did.”

“But the brooch, Grigory. What did you do with it?”

“I hid it in your atelier among all the beads and pearls, planning to retrieve it. But when my people broke in, and searched the atelier, it was not there. Then when I went there, you know, when I drugged you with the ether, I could not find it either.”

Madame Koska stood very still. “You put it into the mix of beads and pearls? And then it vanished? Are you absolutely sure? Because…” She stopped talking and gasped at a sudden epiphany; she knew exactly what happened to the brooch, but her husband must not suspect… it could lead to a disaster.

It passed in her thoughts in an instant and Grigory did not notice anything. “Yes, no one knows what happened to it. But I am sure I can find it. You must help me, Vera.”

“I will not,” said Madame Koska.

Grigory looked at her quietly. “I should have brought a gun with me… but I never thought you would be armed.”

“You taught me how to use a handgun, remember?” said Madame Koska.

Grigory laughed. “Yes, of course I do… but not against me. Why don’t you let me go before everyone comes, Vera? You know you could not bring yourself to kill me.”

“I think I could, Grigory. I really think it would not be too hard, after what you have done to me, leaving me to the wolves after your disappearance.”

“But you did well, Vera. And I knew you were strong enough to do it.”

“You could not know in advance, and since you did it to me, I know you did not care about me. I assumed you escaped with a mistress.”

“Not care about you? A mistress? Vera, you were the love of my life. There had never been another woman. But I had to leave Paris or I would have been put in jail for life, or even executed.”

“What will you do if I let you go?”

“I will resume my search for the brooch. And I will find it, I always do.”

“And after you sell it?”

“I will leave Europe permanently and go to Polynesia, where life is simple and enjoyable. Why not come with me, Vera? Let’s retire in style, live the rest of our lives in total luxury. Come with me, my dear. Let’s resume our life together and be happy. I missed you, Vera”

“And live as fugitives from the law, with the police one step behind us? No, Grigory. Besides, I will never trust you again. We are going to wait here until the police arrive.”

“I could scream for the man stationed outside,” said Grigory.

“I will shoot as soon as you scream,” said Madame Koska.

“You know you still love me, Vera. Why are you being foolish? Who is hurt by our taking the brooch? It was stolen by the Bolsheviks anyway!” He started walking slowly towards her.

“Stop, Grigory. If you come any nearer, I will shoot you,” said Madame Koska. “And since you taught me, you know I can shoot pretty well from such a close distance.”

“But if you won’t come with me willingly, my dear, you leave me no choice,” said Grigory and continued to advance towards her. Madame Koska retreated but after a step or two her back touched the wall.

“Don’t come any closer, Grigory. I would much rather not hurt you,” she said.

Grigory’s blue eyes blazed in the darkness. “You cannot hurt me, my dear. You simply cannot shoot me… give me the gun, just hand it over, and all will be well…” His voice had a hypnotic quality. Madame Koska felt she could not speak.

“Just hand it over, chérie. You don’t have to worry about a thing…” he edged toward her. Madame Koska saw him raising his hands and she knew, with complete clarity, that he meant to strangle her. She fired the gun and in what seemed too slow to be real, she saw Grigory sink to the floor.

At this moment Mr. Korolenko burst through the door, holding a gun of his own.

Madame Koska stood paralysed, with her arm still stretched ahead of her. Mr. Korolenko put his gun in his pocket, approached her, and gently took the gun from her hand. Her arm dropped and she could not move or say a word.

Grigory opened his eyes and looked at Mr. Korolenko. “Dmitri, old friend,” he said.

“Yes, Grigory. I am sorry it had come to that,” said Mr. Korolenko.

“Dmitri, push me so I can sit up against the desk,” said Grigory. “I am finding it hard to breathe.”

Mr. Korolenko hesitated for a few seconds, looking at the wounded man. He shrugged, bent over and gently helped Grigory to sit up, then quickly jumped back. Grigory smiled weakly and said, “I would not hurt you, Dmitri.”