Ilil Arbel - Madame Koska and the Imperial Brooch

She had already purchased most of the materials. A complicated order since she meant to show both afternoon and evening attire, with perhaps even a few morning suits. Quite an eclectic collection, but the color scheme would unify it to a proper theme. She decided to call it Mistral , after the north wind that blew gray and lavender clouds over stormy skies. Everything would be in blue, purple, lavender and gray. The morning and afternoon outfits were to be elegantly tailored, but the evening dresses would flow over the body like water. They would be beaded with extravagant opulence; everyone would recognize the Russian touch superimposed over the Parisian elegance. She rolled the words on her tongue to see how they sounded. “ Mistral: Madame Koska’s new collection. ” Yes, it sounded romantic and exciting, which was the image she wanted to convey. Using blue irises, white calla lilies, and small lavender and purple hot- house anemones in the show room would complete the perfect color coordination. She closed her eyes, imagining the perfect scene, when the knocking sound resumed. Irritated, she got out of the bath and after putting on her dressing gown, went to the kitchen to eat some bread and cheese, accompanied by a glass of red wine.

Early in the morning, Madame Koska went downstairs to the atelier. To her utter amazement, the door was not locked, only closed. What was Natalya thinking? Why didn’t she lock it as she was asked? Opening the door, she gasped with horror. The place had been ransacked. Fabrics, beads, buttons, ribbons were thrown carelessly about, drawers were opened, cabinets emptied of their content. Staring in disbelief, she could not move or even think for about five minutes. Then she shook herself, strode purposefully to her office, and called the police.

“But Madame Koska,can’t you think of anything that was taken?” asked the police officer in disbelief.

“My office vas not entered at all, in my opinion,” said Madame Koska. “The safe vas not touched, I can vouch for that. As for the sewing supplies, the only expensive things here are the fabrics, and since I do not order wholesale yet, but strictly enough for each dress, I am certain that none vas taken. They are all here! The beads are bits of glass, no one vill vant them until they are embroidered into the dresses.”

“Even these little pearls?”

“They are slightly misshapen and very inexpensive, officer. Their value comes from the vork of embroidery. By themselves, they are no more expensive than glass beads. And anyvay, all the vials are here, I ordered only eight vials to start with, Miss Saltykov had already used two, and here are six.”

“And you say you heard knocks around eight o’clock and then again about eight-thirty.”

“Yes, about that time. I noticed them but did not look for the source.”

“Indeed why should you,” said the officer. “In this big city, people are making all sort of noise all the time, of course… you could not know.”

“But I can’t make it out, I can’t understand it. Who vould risk discovery making this infernal noise, at an early hour of the evening, and then not steal anything? I vonder if I vas in mortal danger,” said Madam Koska, shuddering dramatically and wringing her hands. Unfortunately, there were no rings on them, since she came down to work, so nothing flashed. It irritated Madame Koska. She preferred to see some sparkle even during a police investigation.

“This girl, the one you told to take the key and lock up, where is she?” asked the officer.

“Miss Saltykov, come in,” said Madame Koska loudly. The seamstresses, in shock, were crowded at the door, blocked from entering by another officer. Natalya skulked in, looking extremely frightened, her eyes red with tears.

“Miss Saltykov,” said the police officer. “Did you lock the door last night, as Madame Koska told me you were supposed to do, or did you just close it?”

“I locked the door, officer. Really, Madame Koska, everything was done. I locked the door, went upstairs, and dropped the key in your mail box.”

“Did you go straight home?” asked the officer.

“No, I stopped at some stores, but did not buy anything. The book shop, I was looking for a book on English to study better speaking. They did not have anything I liked. And then I bought some fruit Aunt Anna told me to bring.”

“And then you went home?”

“Yes. And told everything to Aunt Anna.”

“I see,” said the officer and looked thoughtfully at the tall, thin, frightened woman who could pass for a rabbit in his book, particularly with her red eyes. He shrugged, probably feeling slightly defeated by this pointless robbery where nothing was taken. “Madame Koska, here is your key. I suggest changing the lock, for safety.”

Madame Koska took the key and pulled out her chatelaine. Suddenly, just as she was going to attach it, she suddenly started and stared at it. “There is a bigger problem here than ve think,” she said. “I just noticed it. This is a copy, it’s not my key. You see, I always put a small sign on my keys as to which door it opens, since I find I always fumble to find the right one. I put tiny paint dots on them. My key had a vhite dot on it. Also, this one is shiny and clean and looks newer than the other one. Even though the original is not very old, still, it took on some patina, and had the vhite dot. This is a different key.”

The officer slowly put out his hand to take the key again. “Madame Koska, I will need to talk to each of the women here alone. Everyone who worked here after you left could have taken the key and copied it during her break. Would you mind going to the other room for a little while? I will start talking with Miss Saltykov, since she is already here, and then I will summon the girls, one by one. I’ll only need a few minutes with each of them.” For a moment Madame Koska wanted to protest, then thought the better of it, and left the room quietly.

“Annushka, you must get a cloche hat,” said Madame Koska.

“Why in the world would I care about a hat in the middle of these troubles?” asked Madame Golitsyn with mild astonishment.

“Because one must be fashionable no matter what,” said Madame Koska. “Hats with wide brims are out. Cloches are in. Therefore, you must have a cloche.”

Madame Golitsyn laughed. “And you also think that a small woman like me does not look quite right in a large brim hat? Too much like a mushroom?”

“Well, I would never call you a mushroom, but I do think the cloches are more appropriate for you, yes,” Madame Koska admitted.

“You are absurd, my dear,” said Madame Golitsyn. “I am now so terribly worried about Natalya, she thinks the police officer suspected her of breaking in, and she is moping and her nose is constantly red. I cannot abide red noses… Who has got time to shop for hats?”

“Well, my dear, I let you lecture me about my slips with the Russian accent, so you must allow me to lecture you about fashion.”

“I must admit you look splendid despite all these aggravations,” said Madame Golitsyn. “This suit is most becoming. But speaking of Russian, how are the lessons going?”

Madame Koska looked at her suit with professional satisfaction. It was made of dark brown, extremely soft wool. With the long narrow skirt and a slim jacket that ended exactly above the knees, it was the epitome of elegance and definitely the latest fashion; many women looked at it with admiration as the two friends sat sipping their tea at one of their favorite cafes. Madame Koska’s small hat, decorated with clusters of material in orange, red, brown and yellow that suggested luscious autumn fruit, surely could never make anyone look like a mushroom. It lent a subtle glow to Madame Koska’s aristocratic face. “They are going very well,” she said. “Mr. Korolenko thinks I am advancing properly; he simply can’t get over my accent, he says it’s perfect.”