The lost symphony, p.13
The Lost Symphony, page 13
‘And Grigori never mentioned this to you?’
‘No. You know what he was like.’
‘How did he get it?’
‘No idea. Lots of people gave him things.’
‘What are you going to do about this?’
‘I will send the letter to the minister of justice.’
‘And the symphony?’
‘Belongs to me. The letter doesn’t refer to it.’
‘Not as such, but—’
‘It’s a private matter,’ interrupted Alexandra. ‘And for now, this stays strictly between us.’
‘But this is too important,’ said Bezukhova. ‘If this is indeed a symphony by Tchaikovsky, then surely it belongs to Russia!’
‘It does. And Russia shall receive it. All in good time, but now is definitely not the time.’
‘Perhaps not.’ Bezukhova knew not to contradict Alexandra once she had made up her mind.
Alexandra turned to face the icon. ‘Please hold my hand and pray with me,’ she whispered, close to tears. ‘My heart is heavy and I have to ask Kazanskaya Bogomater for guidance.’
Bezukhova reached for Alexandra’s hand and kissed it. Then she knelt down beside her chair and together, they began to pray.
20
Frieda Malenkova’s art collection: 26 January 2017
Malenkova liked order and routine. She spent the first few hours of her day in the crypt below her study, surrounded by her treasures. This was her private world of peace and inspiration where she did her best thinking. The crypt had been one of the main reasons she had purchased the old, abandoned church and decided to turn it into her residence. The isolated, remote location had been another. As soon as she had set eyes on the large underground chamber hewn out of virgin rock, she knew she had to own it. Suspended between the living and the dead, the crypt was the perfect place to house her art collection.
Malenkova, a strong believer in destiny, was convinced that the pieces in her collection had found her, not the other way around, and were communicating with her in ways only she could understand. In her mind, that explained the struggle, the risks and sacrifices involved in obtaining them, and justified the often ruthless and violent means involved. Down in the crypt, far removed from the distractions of the outside world, she was able to listen to what her treasures had to say, and plan her strategies and moves accordingly.
For the past hour, Malenkova had thought about nothing else but the Petrova letter, as she called it, and all the available information surrounding it, and she listened. This was a form of meditation that required total concentration. She was convinced that the words in the letter were reaching out to her like pieces of a perplexing puzzle, telling her things that were not recorded on the page, but hidden and just waiting to be discovered, and all she had to do was listen. As she moved awkwardly around the room crowded with paintings, sculptures and antiquities, past familiar bookcases full of first editions and manuscripts, and glass cabinets containing rare porcelain, silverware, vintage watches and jewellery, she became more and more excited as the letter began to whisper in her ear.
Then, all became clear. Malenkova knew exactly what she had to do next. She walked over to the intercom by the stairs and pressed the button.
Zuzanna answered. ‘Has she arrived?’ asked Malenkova.
‘She has.’
‘Please bring her down.’
Anielka had arrived half an hour earlier. She had not visited Malenkova’s home before, and had communicated with her only by phone or through Zuzanna. The invitation had therefore come as a complete surprise and she was looking forward with great excitement to meeting the woman who had been her benefactor since her release, and had done so much for her.
Anielka had spent several years in a psychiatric prison hospital in Paris after she had savagely attacked a fellow inmate with a kitchen knife in the juvenile detention centre where she was serving time for assault. Before that, she had almost killed a man she claimed had tried to rape her. Because she was only seventeen at the time, the prosecutor reduced the more serious charge of attempted murder to common assault, and she was sent to an institution for rehabilitation.
For the first three months she was a model prisoner, then something happened in the kitchen that set her off. It had taken three guards to restrain her and take the knife out of her hand. Hysterical and screaming, she was sent for psychiatric assessment and ended up in hospital under the care of a psychiatrist whom Malenkova knew well.
Malenkova had recruited patients from psychiatric institutions before. Some of her best and most loyal operatives had been sourced that way. Vulnerable people who had been in institutions could be moulded and groomed to carry out difficult assignments in ways that were impossible to arrange in normal circumstances. Total dependence gave total control, and gratitude inspired loyalty, which was a powerful tool that could be used in many effective ways. This was something Malenkova had also learned from her father and perfected over the years.
Just before her release from hospital, Anielka – a girl of Polish background without family – was introduced to Zuzanna, also a Pole, by her doctor. The doctor received a generous fee from Malenkova for the introduction and the case notes. He told Anielka that she would be released into Zuzanna’s care, thereby preparing the way for what was to come.
That was how the grooming had started. After that, Zuzanna looked after all of Anielka’s needs and made her totally dependent on her. She then gave her small jobs to do, simple at first, but becoming more daring and complex over time. Anielka handled all of them perfectly and showed great initiative and imagination in carrying out the tasks. She seemed to enjoy her involvement and was always asking for more. She was also eager to please and wanted to show Zuzanna what she could do.
There was also another side to Anielka that had surprised her carers and supervising psychiatrists during her time in hospital. After a particularly violent outburst, Anielka had spent the night in isolation, locked in a room. When the nurse arrived in the morning and opened the door, she found the walls covered in extraordinary drawings, displaying a hidden talent that seemed at odds with Anielka’s mental and emotional state.
After that, she was provided with proper materials and encouraged to draw and paint. She embraced this opportunity with consuming passion and spent most of her waking hours creating pictures. It was as if a window to her tortured soul had been opened, allowing her spirit to soar. The quality and originality of her work dumbfounded even art experts who were brought in to view her paintings. Gradually, Anielka’s pattern of behaviour and persona seemed to change and the demons retreated, paving the way for a full recovery that eventually resulted in her release.
Anielka felt strangely aroused as she followed Zuzanna down the stairs leading into the crypt. Something about the house brought back memories of her childhood in Krakow.
Anielka’s mind was a strange place. Exceptionally bright, charming and vivacious, she was a pathological liar who concealed her psychopathic inclinations and behaviour in incredibly imaginative ways that could fool even the most critical observer. In many ways, she was also an artist of mind games and deception.
Devoid of any feelings of remorse or guilt, she was capable of violent acts – including self-harm – so extreme, they would have shocked even a seasoned homicide investigator. If caught, she could lie her way out of a compromising situation in ways that could convince a jury and even a trial judge. Her stunning looks – especially her almost angelic face – were of great help here, as her appearance and manner seemed at odds with whatever she was supposed to have done.
Because of her looks, she attracted the attention of men wherever she went and she exploited this attraction ruthlessly because deep down, she hated men. She liked sex, often coupled with violence, because of the power it gave her over others. Without inhibitions or moral compass of any kind, she was prepared to engage in sexual activities that would have taught a debauched pervert a lesson or two. Her promiscuous sexual behaviour had been one of the main problems since her release, and had caused some hesitation in Zuzanna about using Anielka for certain assignments. However, as she got to know her better and Anielka became ever more trusting and dependent on her, Zuzanna realised that this very inclination could be used to great advantage in certain situations.
Malenkova was impressed the moment she set eyes on Anielka. The young woman had a presence that would instantly be noticed the moment she walked into a room. Apart from her looks, the way she walked, the way she held her head, all gave her an aura that was impossible to ignore. There was a certain seductive glamour and natural elegance about her that reminded Malenkova of a fashion model walking down the catwalk, oblivious of the admiring looks following her every step of the way.
Just like Celine, thought Malenkova. Amazing.
As soon as Anielka entered the crypt, her eyes went straight to the paintings lining the walls, surprise and excitement on her flushed face.
‘Wow!’ she cried out. ‘Look at this.’ Anielka walked over to one of the paintings – a 12th-century Chinese splashed ink painting by Liang Kai – and just stood there lost in thought.
She isn’t even aware I’m here, waiting for her, thought Malenkova. Instead of being annoyed by this, Malenkova found it fascinating. To have found the art of the Chan Buddhist painter Liang Kai, one of Malenkova’s favourites, so appealing, was remarkable, thought Malenkova. Liang Kai’s work was well known for discarding accurate representation to enhance spontaneity. He did this in an attempt to represent the non-rational mind of the enlightened.
‘What do you like about it?’ asked Malenkova.
Anielka spun around, surprised. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just this painting ...’
Slowly, Malenkova walked over to Anielka, who towered over her. Her long blonde hair was a little dishevelled, which only accentuated her prominent cheekbones and cornflower-blue eyes.
‘What do you like about it?’ repeated Malenkova, watching Anielka carefully.
‘Everything,’ said Anielka without hesitation.
‘Why?’
‘Because this is exactly how I feel.’
It was a strange answer that nevertheless resonated with Malenkova. ‘I am Frieda Malenkova,’ she said, extending her hand. ‘I have wanted to meet you for a long time.’
Instead of shaking the outstretched hand, Anielka just looked a Malenkova, tears in her eyes. Then she threw her arms around her and held her tight.
‘What did I do to deserve this?’ asked Malenkova, surprised by the spontaneous embrace. ‘We haven’t even met.’
‘You deserve it, all right,’ whispered Anielka.
‘Why?’
‘Because you saved my life.’
Malenkova smiled. This was the kind of loyalty and devotion she was always looking for. Zuzanna is right; she’s ready, she thought. Then she took Anielka by the hand and guided her to the stairs. ‘Come, let’s go up to my study and get to know each other a little better. There are too many distractions down here, for you and for me.’
21
Frieda Malenkova’s whiteboard: 26 January 2017
Malenkova stood in front of her whiteboard contemplating the new information provided by Anielka earlier, when Zuzanna walked in. She had just driven Anielka back to her flat on the outskirts of Paris and was in high spirits.
‘What do you think?’ was the first question she asked.
‘You were right.’
‘About what?’
‘She’s ready.’
‘I agree. This girl thinks on her feet and can improvise. You have to admit, the way she handled the Ritz was outstanding,’ said Zuzanna.
‘Lucky she could step in at such short notice while you were in the States.’
‘It was her first big assignment. Look at the results.’
As Mademoiselle Darrieux was their most promising lead, she had been under surveillance around the clock since the lunch at La Closerie des Lilas that had revealed so much. It was the way Malenkova collected information once she decided a matter was worth pursuing. She had focused on the key person in the matter and as far as she was concerned, that was Mademoiselle Darrieux.
‘All right, let’s have a look at what we’ve got,’ said Malenkova and hobbled over to the whiteboard, which by now contained a lot of information, unfortunately much of it still with serious question marks attached. The investigation was in its infancy, but Malenkova was convinced she was on to something big. She had a sixth sense when it came to matters like this. Her finely honed instincts told her that every time she looked at the Petrova letter. And besides, just like her father before her, she thrived on a challenge that put much-needed excitement into her otherwise quite banal life dominated by routine and isolation, with only her art collection to sustain her.
‘On twenty January, two weeks after that lunch at La Closerie des Lilas, Darrieux spent the weekend at the Kuragin chateau with Countess Kuragin and Rogan. We have no idea of the reason behind this, but three days later, they met again, this time at the Ritz. Aubert, the manager, whom Darrieux obviously knows well, was present. Curious don’t you think?’ said Malenkova.
‘Sure, but thanks to Anielka, we now have some idea what that meeting was about,’ said Zuzanna.
‘Lucky you briefed her so well. As soon as I heard from our surveillance team that Darrieux was meeting Countess Kuragin and Rogan at the Ritz, I phoned Anielka and told her to go there straight away and find out as much as possible about that meeting.’
‘And she did just that. Look what she came up with. First, she managed to get a table in the busy Bar Vendôme, close enough to Darrieux to observe what was going on, and she even overheard some of the conversation. Brilliant!’ said Zuzanna, feeling proud of her protégé.
‘Yes. I don’t think you could have done any better. But what exactly did she see and what did she hear, and more importantly, what does it all mean?’
‘Well, let’s have a look,’ said Zuzanna. ‘To begin with, we have a small key. That must be significant because Rogan handed it to Aubert, who carefully examined it. Some kind of strong box was mentioned and Aubert talked about an old ledger. The question is this: is any of this relevant?’ asked Zuzanna.
‘I think I can help you there.’
‘You can?’ said Zuzanna, surprised.
‘I read not only Darrieux’ Petrova biography, but also her book about the Ritz during the war, cover to cover,’ said Malenkova.
‘Scandal on Place Vendôme?’
‘Yes. There is a brief mention in the book about a safe, a very special one somewhere in the basement called the Amber Safe. It was installed in the 1920s.’
‘How curious. And could this somehow be linked to our investigation?’
‘Perhaps. Apparently, some of the high-profile guests staying at the Ritz during the war were allocated strong boxes for the duration of their stay. They kept their valuables in there, a bit like the room safes we have today. Remember what Anielka told us about what happened shortly after Rogan gave that key to the manager?’ said Malenkova.
‘They all got up and went to the lifts.’
‘Correct. Anielka followed them and actually managed to get into the lift with them. That was smart,’ said Malenkova. ‘They went down to the basement together. Anielka even exchanged a few words with Aubert, who apparently couldn’t take his eyes off her. She mumbled something about having caught the wrong lift. While she waited for the next one to take her back up to the foyer, she could see Aubert and the others go down some stairs to another level below.’
‘Interesting, don’t you think?’ said Zuzanna. ‘Where did they go, and why?’
‘Sure is. But the next thing Anielka did was genius. She found a seat in clear view of the lifts and waited for Darrieux and the others to come back up. When they did, which was about twenty minutes later, she made eye contact with Aubert and smiled. She sent him a subtle signal, and it worked. By then she knew, of course, that he was the hotel manager. Can you remember what happened next?’ asked Malenkova.
‘All right, this is what I think happened,’ said Zuzanna. ‘Anielka was quite specific about it all: Darrieux, Countess Kuragin and Rogan went to L’Espadon, that posh restaurant, to have lunch, but Aubert excused himself and stayed in the foyer. As he was walking to the reception desk, he noticed that Anielka was still looking in his direction. As an experienced professional who’s worked all his life in hospitality, he couldn’t help noticing that Anielka looked decidedly exasperated and out of sorts. She had her phone in her hand and was shaking her head. Something was clearly bothering her. That’s how she attracted his attention and gave him a reason to come over and talk to her. And that is precisely what he did, and it all went from there. How does that sound to you? Plausible? Brilliant, I say!’
Malenkova nodded. ‘She played him like a pro. You can’t be taught this. It comes naturally to special people who instinctively know how to do such things. Anielka is a natural, an asset, just like Celine ... was,’ added Malenkova.
Zuzanna could hear the sadness in her boss’s voice. For years, Celine, a former circus performer, had been Malenkova’s star. Recruited just like Anielka after her release from prison, Celine had carried out several spectacular burglaries directed by Malenkova, targeting luxury hotels and billionaires. She was known by the police throughout Europe as ‘The Ghost’ because of her uncanny ability to break into hotel suites, open safes, and disappear with the loot without a trace. She was the ultimate cat burglar until one day in Monte Carlo, her career came to a sudden, tragic end. She lost her footing on the roof of one of the grand hotels during a rainstorm and fell six storeys to her death.
‘She is. And she can make up plausible stories on the spot, convincingly,’ said Zuzanna, pleased that Celine’s name had been mentioned. To hear Malenkova compare Anielka to Celine augured well.
