The Lost Ballet
By Richard Dorrance
Copyright 2013 Richard Dorrance
This book was written at
The Charleston Library Society.
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Chapter 1 – The Secret Compartment
Helstof called Gwen June and said, “If you want to come over for coffee, we have something interesting to show you. You brought something back from Russia you didn’t know about.”
“I’m on my way. Should I invite Roger, or is this girl stuff?”
“Bring him. And bring the four ballet geeks, if you can. We haven’t seen them in a while, and this is about ballet. Oh, I shouldn’t have given that away. It’s half the surprise. See you.”
Gwen called down to the rehearsal hall, and got Peter. When he answered she said, “Who’s down there today? Are Selgey and Bart there? Can you get away for an hour or two?”
“They’re here. So is Pater. What’s up?”
“Helstof wants us to come over to her house; says she has a surprise about ballet. Says we brought something back from the heist we didn’t know about. Can you come now?”
Peter yelled something away from the phone, then said, “Yeah. See you.”
Roger showed up first, and gave his wife an American kiss, then gave Helstof a European double kiss. He liked the direct, American style of smackaroo right on the lips, better than the prissy European thing. But the double kiss was different, which made it interesting. He shook hands with Henric, Helstof’s husband, and said, “Where’s the baby horse?”
Henric said, “Outside, running the beach.”
“How much you paid in fines so far, letting her off leash every day?”
Henric looked at Helstof, who held up five fingers.
“$500?”
With her hands, Helstof pantomimed stretching.
“$5,000?” Roger said.
Henric beamed with pride. Helstof rolled her eyes.
Gwen said, “Jesus.”
Henric’s baby horse was a borzoi dog that weighed 140 pounds, and was dumb as an ox. It was only ten months old and not fully grown. The huge dog was lucky its master was wealthy and owned a 10,000 square foot house for it to run around in. It would follow Henric around all day, from the garage on the ground floor to the bedrooms on the fourth floor. This blockheaded but sweet-natured dog would run up the stairs and down the stairs; around the garage and around the wine cellar; around the kitchen and around the sunrooms. It loved Henric, and Henric loved it. But god, was it dumb.
The door to the kitchen opened, and in came Peter, Pater, Selgey, and Bart - the four ballet geeks. Now there was a lot more European kissing, because Peter and Pater were Russian, and even though Selgey was American and Bart was English, they had lived in Europe for a while, and liked that gesture. So between the eight people, there were like, forty-four kisses dished out. If the dog had been in the room, rather than running around loose on the beach, breaking the law, there would have been lots more.
Roger said, “What’s the surprise?”
Henric pointed to a desk across the living room, which was eighty feet away. The Gromstov’s have a really big living room. The group walked over and stood looking at a large hole in the side.
“Dog,” Henric said. “Running around the house, slipped on the polished floor, did a header into the desk.” He looked at the hole. “Didn’t hurt her a bit. Really thick skull.”
Helstof said, “That’s not the surprise, though that caused the surprise.” She looked at Henric, who nodded. She pointed at the hole, said, “Secret compartment. Had stuff in it. Stuff about ballet.” The desk was one of several hundred small objects the Gromstovs, the Junes, and the Ps (Peter and Pater) had stolen from warehouses of the Hermitage Museum, in Saint Petersburg, Russia, about a year earlier. All the items had been smuggled back to Charleston in huge shipping containers, and some of them now were in the Gromstov’s house on Kiawah Island.
The Junes had masterminded the Hermitage heist. They are real Charlestonians, meaning both their families had lived there since before the Civil War. If your family came to town after the Civil War, say 1870 or so, you are not a real Charlestonian.
Peter and Pater, the Ps, no last name, had been security guards at the Hermitage, and had been bribed to let the heist team slip out of the museum compound in the dead of night. The bribe had consisted of an offer they couldn’t refuse. After the heist, their employment status at the Hermitage changed from “satisfactory” to “hunt them down like the rats they are, and exterminate them.” So they had vacated the premises along with the stolen goods, and been transported to Charleston on the container ship, in one of the containers. Before becoming trusted members of the Hermitage security force, both of them had been dancers in the Mariinsky ballet corps. When Peter tore the anterior cruciate ligament in his right knee, Pater also ended his career. Partners, for better or for worse.
Selgey and Bart, also dancers, had fallen in love during a performance of Swan Lake. According to Selgey, it happened just after Bart threw her upwards toward the ceiling of the Royal Opera House in London’s Covent Garden, and just before he caught her. She said she had been thrown around a lot of stages by a lot of guys during her illustrious career as principle dancer with the American Ballet Theater, but no one other than Bart had thrown her upwards with just one arm, and then caught her with just the one other arm. No one. During that weightless interlude, similar to what astronauts in outer space experience, between the throw and the catch, that was when she decided she was in love with Bart.
Bart, on the other hand, said he fell in love with Selgey when, accidentally, he saw her standing naked in front of the mirror in her dressing room. Selgey was the romantic of the two; Bart the pragmatist. They decided to leave the life of world class ballet performance at the same time, get married, and retire out of the limelight to the quaint cultural charms of Charleston. The four dancers, and Henric, were toying with the idea of starting a ballet academy, and had rented a rehearsal space in an old theater on John Street, traditionally called The Hall.
Now the four Russians, three Americans, and the one Englishman stood together in the really big living room, looking at the busted antique desk, waiting for Helstof to tell them about the surprise.
Pater said, “The dog did that, with her head, and she’s ok?”
Henric said, “Russian dogs, very tough.”
Henric sat on the floor in front of the center of the desk and demonstrated how the secret compartment worked. He stuck his head into the space where a person’s legs were when they sat at the desk. The desk was small, but beautifully crafted, with ornate detailing and finishes, and had one drawer on each side. Henric looked carefully at the inner wall of the side, and at the top, just under the bottom of the drawer, was a small wooden latch, made from the same wood as the side, and very unobtrusive. He turned the latch, and the entire inner wall panel popped away from the outer side, towards him. This panel was connected to the desk by a hinge at the bottom, completely invisible unless the desk was laid on its back or top, which hardly was thinkable, given the quality and beauty of the desk.
Carefully he held the top edge of the panel, and lowered it downwards. There was a squeak from the invisible hinges, but the mechanism worked perfectly. The entire inner wall panel folded down until its top edge touched the floor. He pointed to the narrow compartment between the inner and outer walls, and said, “Papers.”
The Lost Ballet Page 1
