The Crossley took me directly to Haidur Pasha where again I was cleared by the British authorities. I attempted to give them my information, but they said they already had the Greek colonel’s report. I was to return home with very little to show for my adventures. I had discarded my ruined business clothes for a Greek army shirt and breeches, British shoes and puttees, a French greatcoat. I resembled any of those Russians presently falling back in growing numbers from Bolshevik ferocity. As I went down to the Scutari square, to the quays to board a ferry, I found myself in the company of several poor devils just evacuated from Yalta. They asked whom I had fought under and in what part of the country. I told them I was from Kiev, a liaison officer with the Allied Forces, though I had been a prisoner of Reds and Greens. They were half dead with fatigue, completely confused. They hoped to get to South America and join the Argentines, since there was obviously no hope for them in Constantinople. They knew this from relatives in the city. Their next step was to sign on a banana boat as soon as possible. Letters from comrades reported rich pickings and an easy life for trained soldiers in South America. As we stepped off the ferry I wished them luck, then, in trepidation, made my way on foot up the steep Galata streets until at last I reached the Grande Rue which, for no specific reason, I had expected to be changed. Incredibly, I had been away for no more than ten days. It seemed like months and I was frightened something had happened to Esmé. Without my protection she could have fallen victim to any one of the entrepreneurs prowling Tokatlian’s. Had not Count Siniutkin used the place as his headquarters? I was sure some white slaver had already priced her beauty. I therefore had a sense of gloomy expectation of disaster as, from the alley, I slipped through Tokatlian’s back entrance and up to our suite. I was convinced the Count had never sent my telegram.
Somewhere between Scutari and Ankara I had lost my keys. I knocked on the door of our suite, expecting no answer. My heart thumped. I was drenched in nervous sweat. From below in the restaurant, even though it was only four in the afternoon, came the sound of music, the hum of conversation. All I had to show for my adventure were a few sovereigns and a bruised back. My prototype was destroyed, my plans burned.
The door opened. Esmé was there. She gasped, began to cry, then smiled. After a second’s hesitation (doubtless because of my strange costume) she threw her little soft arms around my neck and enthusiastically kissed me all over my unshaven face. I shook with sudden relief. My fears had been groundless and all was well. Had she received a telegram? She said she had not. She had believed herself deserted. Then she guessed I must be dead. I should never have crossed to the Asian Shore, she said. The Turks were animals over there.
As I bathed and changed I told her something of my experiences. Although still unusually nervous, she was open-mouthed, reacting dramatically to every new piece of my tale. This attention, displaying her evident pleasure at my return, helped refresh me. Flinging myself onto our cushions, I asked her to bring us some cocaine and I sent downstairs for coffee and food. She prepared the drug in the way I had taught her. I saw our supply was extremely low; far lower than I liked it to get. I smiled tolerantly. ‘You’ve been a greedy little monkey!’ She flushed. Wearing only her white lace petticoats she looked as pretty and ordinarily wholesome as any well-bred Russian girl. Filled with love, I took her in my arms and kissed her. I was sorry I had not brought her a present, I said. She began to stammer a reply, then I pulled out the purse containing Ethem’s gold and threw it into the air for her to catch. ‘But we can leave whenever we choose.’ I was amused by her delighted response.
‘In that case we should go very soon.’ She was gravely urgent, it’s getting worse by the day in Constantinople. There are more and more murders. People of all kinds are disappearing. Not just girls. The Baroness told me for instance her friend Count Siniutkin has vanished. Swallowed by the Earth, she said.’
‘You’ve seen the Baroness? That’s good.’
Esmé paused while she concentrated on chopping the cocaine crystals. She nodded. She studied the white lines with unusual intensity.
‘Is she well?’
‘I think so.’ Her tone was offhand.
‘And Kitty?’
‘Yes, she’s well.’ This almost in a whisper.
‘You’ve been playing together?’
‘Not recently.’
‘I’ll see her for a few minutes later on. As soon as we’ve had something to eat.’
Esmé handed me the ornamental mirror with the exactly-made lines of cocaine on it. She was as usual extremely neat in this respect. I look the silver tube and placed it to my right nostril, sniffing hard. It was wonderful to be reunited with my drug in this way. At once I felt a fresh surge of enthusiasm and pleasure. The food was delivered, but we ate only a little. Esmé wanted to make love.
It was almost midnight by the time I climbed the staff staircase of the Hotel de Byzance to tap softly on the Baroness’s door. She opened it immediately, but was startled when she saw me. She did not look well. Her face was drawn, her skin coarser than usual. There were bags under her eyes. Her hair was brushed back, ready for bed. ‘Are you alone?’ I whispered. Kitty normally slept on the couch by the window. I made to enter, but Leda blocked me. She was beginning to sway. ‘Are you ill? Surely you haven’t caught typhus?’ My own guess was that she felt faint with the profound emotion of finding me alive. ‘Did you think I was hurt, Leda?’
I was amazed by her reply. ‘I had prayed that you were.’ She spoke in a violent, almost hysterical whisper. She made a dismissive motion with her hand. I could see over her shoulder into the room. Kitty was turning in her mother’s bed. I thought Leda did not want the child disturbed. ‘I tried to send a telegram, but I was a prisoner.’ Even as I spoke I felt my tone was overly apologetic. ‘Shall I see you tomorrow?’
She said in a small but far clearer voice, ‘I shall send you a letter.’
A little puzzled, I nonetheless made to kiss her on the cheek, whereupon she pulled back hastily, glaring. The whisper was vicious steel now. ‘They warned me you were a monster of deceit, but I would not believe them. I have never even heard of any action so vile!’
I was flabbergasted. ‘Has Count Siniutkin been speaking to you? If so, I must warn you he has already tricked me -’
‘I have not seen Count Siniutkin. He may have been arrested by the Turks.’ She was closing the door. ‘Please leave me alone. I do not wish to lose self-control over someone as worthless as you.’
‘Leda!’ I insisted on remaining. She came out into the passage now, wearing, the blue silk kimono I had bought her in the Grand Bazaar. ‘You look beautiful,’ I said. She pulled the door shut behind her. She had grown impressively red. I had never seen such fury in a woman. She hissed: ‘Maxim Arturovitch, I wish never to see you again. I did not intend to warn you of this, but I am seriously of a mind to inform the authorities against you. Even in this degenerate city there must still be left some decent people. That you deceived me so horribly, that you encouraged Kitty to play with your child-whore, is bad enough, but to have seduced the creature in the first place - and under my nose - to have invented such a despicable fantasy - is unforgivable!’
I was enlightened at last and my heart sank. I heard myself responding feebly, ‘I did not seduce her. She was a whore when I found her. I rescued her. You contradict yourself, Leda!’