City of Shadows by Ariana Franklin Read Free Book Online Page A

the problem in the morning.
    The moon was high now. The dry spring had turned the surface of the roads to dust, so that the Audi’s speed churned up a cloud of it, leaving it hanging in the moonlit air like a trail of smoke.
    At the Green Hat, she parked behind a line of limousines collecting the last of the guests, some of whom were unsteady and having to be helped into their cars by their chauffeurs.
    Theo lifted Anna out of the backseat. They supported her into the foyer. Beyond, in the vast club room, the band was packing away its in struments and waiters were clearing the tables.
    From the cloakroom came the voice of Olga Ratzel pestering weary hatcheck and cigarette girls out of their uniforms and into their civvies—the elaborate Russian costumes and kokoshniks had cost Nick good money; none of the girls were allowed to take them home.
    Theo gathered Anna into his arms and followed Esther up the sweep ing staircase with its heavily curlicued banister, relic of one of the kaiser’s palaces and another item Nick had bought to impress the cus tomers. The newel posts were turbaned Negro boys carrying torches.
    Boris was in Nick’s office, counting the night’s takings. “What the hell you got there, Esther?”
    “A package for Nick. Is he back yet?”
    He wasn’t.
    Theo lowered the inert form of Anna onto the chesterfield; her eyes were slightly open; every now and then, she shuddered.
    “We’re going to have to spend the rest of the night here, Boris. I don’t know what else to do with her.”
    “Okay.” Boris was too tired to be curious—anyway, life with Prince Nick had taught him not to be. “You want I should leave Theo with you?”
    “Oh, God, yes please.” She’d need him if Anna became hysterical again.
    She went downstairs and crossed the floor of the now empty club to the kitchens to gather provisions—water, milk, a bottle of brandy for medicinal purposes, some sandwiches, beer for Theo.
    Boris had put the lights out before she got back so that the only illu mination came from the chandeliers in the foyer, and she nearly tripped over a couple of broken gilt chairs lying witness to the von Schwerin brothers’ good time.
    Like all places built for a crowd, the club became eerie when it was empty. In the gloom Kandinsky’s walls gained the depth of a tangled forest from which Nick’s bears emerged, as if curious, to watch her pass by.
    “Esther.”
    She jumped. “Don’t do that.”
    Olga Ratzel, a thin, starched figure, was standing in the shadow of the doorway. They were old enemies.
    Briskly, Olga asked, “Who is that woman upstairs, please?”
    “She’s a friend of Nick’s, Olga. She’s homeless at the moment. We’re going to spend the night here.”
    “Spend the night? Does Nick know about this?”
    “Not yet he doesn’t. Excuse me.”
    Olga held her ground. “I need to know the circumstances, Esther. I am responsible for this club in Nick’s absence. Should the Vice Squad do one of its inspections and find some street woman—”
    “Just get out of my way, Olga.” Esther sidestepped, concentrating on the tray she carried, and crossed the foyer. The last of the staff to go had left the glass front doors open so that warm night air came in to dissipate the accumulated smell of expensive cigars and perfume and alcohol.
    Olga followed her upstairs, still lecturing. “Young woman, I arrange accommodation for the girls. If this female is homeless, I will find her a place right away, not here .. . . Camping out in Nick’s office, it is not suitable. ...Where we keep the receipts. ...A stranger . . .”
    Esther ignored her. Olga’s responsibility for everything was self-imposed. The Russian-born widow of a Berliner, she’d inveigled herself into the Green Hat very early on under Nick’s regime as a seamstress, laundress, and mender of uniforms. She’d made herself useful acting as dresser for such artistes as appeared on its stage, and gradually, without anyone’s knowing