Olga had worked at the library in Lenkomsomol Square, in the center of Kiev, for seven years. She was thirty-two years old and had never been outside the Soviet Union. Olga was reasonably attractive, a bit overweight, but in Ukraine that was not considered a disadvantage. She had been engaged twice to men who had moved away and deserted her: Dmitri, who had left for Leningrad; and Ivan, who had moved to Moscow. Olga had tried to move to Moscow to be with Ivan, but without a propiska, a Moscow residence permit, it was not possible.
As her thirty-third birthday approached, Olga was determined that she was going to see something of the world before the Iron Curtain closed around her once again. She went to the head librarian, who happened to be her aunt.
“I would like to take my vacation, now,” Olga said.
“When do you want to leave?”
“Next week.”
“Enjoy yourself.”
It was as simple as that. In the days before perestroika, taking a vacation would have meant going to the Black Sea or Samarkand or Tbilisi, or any one of a dozen other places inside the Soviet Union. But now, if she were quick about it, the whole world was open to her. Olga took an atlas from the library shelf and pored over it. There was such a big world out there! There was Africa and Asia, and North and South America…She was afraid to venture that far. Olga turned to the map of Europe. Switzerland, she thought. That’s where I’ll go.
She would never have admitted it to anyone in the world, but the main reason Switzerland appealed to her was that she had once tasted Swiss chocolate, and she had never forgotten it. She loved sweets. The candy in the Soviet Union—when one could get it—was sugarless and tasted terrible.
Her taste for chocolate was to cost Olga her life.
The journey on Aeroflot to Zurich was an exciting beginning. She had never flown before. She landed at the international airport in Zurich filled with anticipation. There was something in the air that was different. Maybe it is the smell of real freedom, Olga thought. Her finances were strictly limited, and she had made reservations at a small, inexpensive hotel, the Leonhare, at Limmatquai 136.
Olga checked in at the reception desk. “This is my first time in Switzerland,” she confided to the clerk, in halting English. “Could you suggest some things for me to do?”
“Certainly. There is much to do here,” he told her. “Perhaps you should start with a tour of the city. I will arrange it.”
“Thank you.”
Olga found Zurich extraordinary. She was awed by the sights and sounds of the city. The people on the street were dressed in such fine clothes and drove such expensive automobiles. It seemed to Olga that everyone in Zurich must be a millionaire. And the stores! She window shopped along Bahnhofstrasse, the main shopping street of Zurich, and she marveled at the incredible cornucopia of goods in the windows: There were dresses and coats and shoes and lingerie and jewelry and dishes and furniture and automobiles and books and television sets and radios and toys and pianos. There seemed to be no end to the goods for sale. And then Olga stumbled across Sprüngli’s, famous for their confections and chocolates. And what chocolates! Four large storefront windows were filled with a dazzling array of them. There were huge boxes of mixed chocolates, chocolate bunnies, chocolate loaves, chocolate-covered nuts. There were chocolate-covered bananas and chocolate beans filled with liqueurs. It was a feast just to look at the display in the windows. Olga wanted to buy everything, but when she learned the prices, she settled for a small box of assorted chocolates and a large candy bar.
Over the next week, Olga visited the Zurichhorn Gardens and the Rietberg Museum and the Grossmünster, the church erected in the eleventh century, and a dozen other wonderful tourist attractions. Finally, her time was running out.
The hotel clerk at the Leonhare said to her, “The Sunshine Tours Bus Company has a fine tour of the Alps. I think you might enjoy that before you leave.”