Chapter 8

I had been told that Gertrude worked at night and slept 'til noon. It was nearly noon when I nearing the Luxembourg gardens on my way to her atelier.

It was a lovely crisp day. Paris was in her usual mood but my thoughts were on Kissling and Gottlieb, hoping that they would call off the duel on time. I still had no idea what the quarrel was about. It didn't matter. All I had to do was my duty and hope for the best.

Since it was too early to visit Gertrude, I found a café, sat at a table in the sun and sipped coffee, lost in thought. A wispy voice reached my ear. I could feel the warm breath.

(Caresse Crosby..."It's so good to see you, Caresse.")

"Would you buy an espresso for a lady?"

Face to Face with Caresse Crosby

I turned and faced Caresse Crosby. She was fashionably dressed and had a sleek black dog on a leash whose nails were painted gold.
"This is Narcisse Noir," she announced. "He's very friendly."
She tethered him to her chair with a heavy gold chain that matched her gold lame outfit. The dog settled beside her gracefully.
"It's so good to see you, Caresse," I said genuinely.

It had been a while since I last saw Caresse. Harry had disappeared for days that time and she asked me to stay with her until he returned. He was probably at Drosso's she had said. She made a gesture that imitated someone inhaling an opium pipe. She told me she'd leave the windows open. "We'll hear Harry's footsteps."

I remember how a glass symphony filled the salon as the breeze blew against the magnificent chandeliers coming in from two sides of the room. The rose colored wallpaper danced with the shadows of the billowing drapes. In the hall, the colors reflected gaily on the floor to ceiling mirrors.

We sat in thick sweaters devouring rich pastries specially delivered from Rumplemeyer's and hors d'ouvres from Prunier's. It was two days before Harry and his friend, Hart Crane, were chauffered from Drosso's. Caresse knew Harry so she knew where he was. They had been smoking 'black idol' as Harry called the opium.

They had been at Le Bal Négre sipping absinthe or eating little paste pellets of hashish all night waiting for the races to open at Auteuil. Harry could never miss the races. But not once did it ever cross his mind to send a note to Caresse telling her where he was. Caresse was always concerned but never worried. She spent her time alone or with a 'companion' just eating, drinking, smoking or bathing and sleeping fully clothed in the salon, waiting for her undisciplined husband to come home.

When he did return, he entered the apartment in silence. There was no rebuff, no ugly scene, or guilt.

A Handsome Man with Blond Hair

He was a tall handsome man with blond hair. He wore a black three piece business suit, a bowler hat and grey gloves, even though it was a warm spring night. In his lapel he sported a black carnation. He showed no emotion when he saw me, nor did he say a word. He just shook my hand and scooped up a deck of cards I had been playing with. He shuffled the deck and fanned them out on the table, face down.

"Select any card", he offered. "But before you do, I must predict you will select the six of spades."

He turned and walked off to bed. I hesitated and reached for the card. Caresse smiled knowingly as I turned over that black six. Coincidence? I think not, especially knowing Harry. But that event haunted me for the rest of my life.

(Is it Paris? Of course, simply another flavor of the city, mirrored in this colorful Oriental temple, which could bring to mind jewelry or other riches perhaps found...or lost)

Now, weeks later, I was at a cafe having coffee with my lavishly dressed friend. She was quiet at first. Then without warning she announced.
"Harry lost all of my jewelry."
"Lost", I questioned. Or gambled away?"
"No no, dear boy. Lost, vanished, gone, kaput. Every last piece."
"That's terrible!" I exclaimed. "How did that happen?"

"Well," she started, "Harry decided the other day that it was not safe for us to have all our jewelry in the apartment. So he scooped everything in a satin bag and took a taxi to the Morgan Bank where he used to work. A vault in a bank owned by Harry's uncle was the safest place. You know that J.P. Morgan is Harry's uncle, don't you? "

I nodded and sipped my coffee.

A Bag with Exquisite Things

Caresse continued, animated and excited. "He took a taxi because it wasn't safe to walk around with all that jewelry. There were exquisite things in that bag; jewels collected since I was a girl. Some pieces had been in Harry's family for a hundred years...priceless. There were rings, brooches, tiaras, emeralds, sapphires, diamonds and rubies that would dazzle you.

"There were presents from the Morgans, Peabodys, Van Renselears. Some were birthday gifts, wedding presents, anniversary mementos or items to apologize with after a spat. You can't imagine how many exclusively wonderful things there were in that bag." She sipped her coffee and fitted a cigarette into a long holder embossed with gold.

"The taxicab took the slow route along the Quai to the rue Castilione to the Place Vendome. Bogged down in traffic, Harry was impatient. As he glanced out of the cab he spotted Jamie Morgan, his cousin strolling along. "Wait right here driver," he shouted. "Je revienderai tout de suite."

(The aging taxicab took the slow route along the Quai to the rue Castilione to the Place Vendome)

He jumped from the cab and ran towards his cousin. They hadn't seen each other for months. A drink was suggested and the two happily repaired to the bar at The Crillon Hotel. They were there, Harry assures me, for less than an hour, but when they came out, to his horror, the taxicab had disappeared.

The silk bag had been left on the back seat. Harry could not believe that the taxi driver would not wait. All of our jewelry was gone. And what makes it more un-believable is that the Morgan Bank is on the Place Vendome, only steps away. Everything disappeared...gone...kaput. We'll just have to start over." She turned to the waiter holding up her empty glass. "Garcon, une autre, s'il vous plait."

She turned to me without waiting for a comment and asked,
"And what about you? What mischief have you gotten yourself into these past few weeks?"

"Nothing as serious as your lost jewelry," I stated. "But some strange and interesting things have happened. In Paris everything happens and it's never simple."

Whispering My Story of Kissling's Duel

I leaned closer to Caresse and whispered my story of Kissling's duel. She didn't think it overly important.

"Just another duel," she sighed. "They happen all the time. Don't worry about your friend. Very people ever get hurt, let alone die. It's just a big boy game. Men are boys to the day they die. It's just a game. Do your duty, by all means but don't fret. It'll be over in an hour. The hardest part for you will be getting up so early. I know how much you like to sleep late. I wasn't convinced and remained silent. She quickly changed the subject.

"Are you going to the Ecole Des Beaux Arts ball?" she asked.
"No, I'm no longer studying there. You can't attend if you are not registered."

"Well," she stated, Harry and I are the exceptions. We are the only outsiders to be invited. We have so many friends among the students. They made an exception for us. We were issued formal invitations. We've been thinking about our costumes all week."

"And what will you dress as, a princess without jewels?"
"No, no." The disappearance of her jewelry didn't seem to bother her. "Harry made a special outfit. It consists of a necklace of unplucked squabs. He also intends to carry a canvas sack filled with live snakes. Harry has a penchant for live snakes."

I protested. "Live snakes and dead squabs. I can't imagine..."
"Oh, you can count on anything bizarre when it comes to Harry. He has a vivid imagination. As for myself, I plan something simpler. Do you know Helen Scott?"

I didn't, and said so.

"Well", she began. "Helen has a costume agency. Her motto is 'Helen Scott can get it for you'. Well, she can get you the most out of the way things. I went to see her. As luck would have it, she has available for that exact date a wonderful baby elephant. I am going to make my entrance riding...on...that...elephant. Isn't that marvelous?"

I smiled lamely and hid behind my coffee cup.

Naked from the Waist Up

"And to make it even more exciting, I will be naked from the
waist up. With all the rowing I've been doing, my breasts will
certainly raise eyebrows, n'est-ce-pas?"

She laughed uproariously as she thought of the entrance she would make.

"After all," she added, it's worth the effort. The prize for best costume
is twenty-five bottles of champagne. Imagine, twenty-five!"
There was no stopping her now. "

And afterwards, there's a parade down the Champs Elysées. The costume winner walks or rides in front. What better way to be in a parade than atop an elephant. People will be able to see more of me that way."

"Yes, more of you." I said sarcastically.
"Naughty boy." She feigned anger, and then burst out laughing.
"You have such a devious mind. That's why I'm so fond of you."

"But we WILL win..."

"Well," I smiled,"I'm sure you'll enjoy the party and parade whether you win the Champagne or not."
"But we WILL win," she replied, seriously. "You'll see."

"You're incredibly inventive," I offered. "You and Harry. I would
never have thought up costumes like yours."
"It's in our blood," she smiled. "I'm a descendant of Robert Fulton, the inventor of the steam engine."

"Really!"
"Oh yes. Inventiveness is in our family".
"Do I look suitably impressed?"
"No, you don't. But I'll forgive you this time, because I'm so fond of you. And I am serious you know. We will win first prize."
Then, without warning she leaned over and placed her forefinger on my lips. "Are you in love with me?" she whispered.

I gave her my most serious look. "Passionately," I replied.
"Good", she said, standing up. "It wouldn't do for me to be seen with anyone not in love with me. It just won't do."
She kissed two fingers and touched my lips.
"I must go home and tell Harry."

I wonder if anyone noticed me, with my mouth open, watching this handsome woman walk away.
I called out to her. "You look fetching."
"Yes," she called, without turning around. "I know."

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