Fly Hunter: The Story of an Inquisitor
Шрифт:
As soon as Bulov crossed the threshold of the house and found himself in the yard, the fresh night air played a nasty trick on him: instead of sobering him up, it further dazed him. Bulov went left, and having reached the neighboring yard, remembered that he needed to turn right, and turned right, wandered through the yards for a long time, finally, not finding the toilet and unable to endure any longer, he relieved himself in front of someone's window, not seeing a grandmother in the window, apparently suffering from insomnia, and now she was fearfully crossing herself at the sight of such shamelessness of a strangely dressed creature… And warm autumn nights become cold far beyond midnight, sometimes even frosts occur. Bulov, trembling, began to lose his fleeting body, wandered from yard to yard, from alley to alley, but only completely confused himself in the yards, forgot what the house where he was so warmly greeted looked like. To warm himself up, he started running, examining the houses, looking for "his," but the alleys unexpectedly began to end in dead ends, the houses threateningly loomed, the alleys became all too narrow, he could already touch the opposite sides with outstretched arms at the same time. Bulov began to feel that the houses were trying to catch and flatten him into a pancake. He suddenly imagined that he had stumbled upon an ancient labyrinth, a trap from which there was no escape. Losing control over himself, going mad, he began to wander and shout:
– Ariadne!.. Ariadne!.. Save me!
His cries rang out loudly in the silence of the night, though such screams were not uncommon in these slums. Perhaps a startled bystander, awakened in the dead of night, might have wondered upon hearing such an unfamiliar name, but in the slums, women often bore exotic names: Rosa, Lily, Hortensia, Traviata, Viola… In every dark corner, Bulov began to imagine a lurking Minotaur, awaiting human sacrifices. For some reason, Bulov didn't fancy being devoured, so he darted from side to side, grinding his teeth and feverishly trying to recall the name of this woman, but all that echoed in his mind was, 'Ariadne! Ariadne!'
Suddenly, two enormous yellow eyes flashed in the alleyway, and something growled and sneezed as it slowly moved towards Bulov. Seeing this, Bulov screamed madly and fled down the alley, only to collide once again with the wall of a building. Feeling halfway consumed, Bulov turned back, bidding farewell to life, to the stage, to his wife and children, and… unexpectedly burst into song: 'Oh joy, my life!' Before him stood a police car. Bulov dashed towards it like he had only ever dashed towards his mother in his early childhood.
A policeman stepped out of the car.
– 'Where's the split?' he asked dryly and routinely.
– 'That's exactly what I want to find out from you!' exclaimed Bulov.
– 'What, you mean to say we split you?' the policeman took offense threateningly.
– 'No, I always undress by myself.'
– 'Did someone hit you on the head by any chance?'
– 'No, I just got lost…' Bulov hesitated. 'Do you know where a certain whore lives around here?'
– 'If you'd asked about a decent woman, I could have told you – there's one right here, in this house, paralyzed since childhood. But as for whores in this area, there's no shortage. What kind do you want: young, old, blonde, brunette, redhead?'
– 'Blonde!' Bulov cheered. 'Looks like my first wife.'
– 'I never slept with your first wife or your second. Describe your first wife, maybe we'll find your whore based on her.'
– 'Slender, tall, young, with a face that was still… intelligent, eyes like two blue stars…'
– 'Well, well, aren't you a poet!' laughed the policeman. 'That's Kato, daughter of an enemy of the people. Be careful, she might recruit you… as a spy. Get in, we'll take you.'
Gunshots rang out nearby.
– 'It's starting again!' grumbled the policeman. 'Get in quickly, I said, we're taking you to the blue-eyed one.'
Bulov quickly hopped into the police car, and within minutes, Bulov found himself circling Kato's house, they were on the scene. The policeman ascended the stairs first and pounded on the door as hard as he could. There was dead silence behind the door.
– 'Kato, open up!'
The policeman hammered on the door with his mighty fist, like a sledgehammer.
– 'Did she fall asleep or what, damn whore!'
It was three in the morning. Bulov stood behind the policeman's broad shoulders, trembling like a leaf, cursing his love for adventure. For ten minutes, there was no sign of life from behind the door, and for those ten minutes, the policeman pounded relentlessly with his fearsome fist. Finally, a disgruntled voice came from behind the door:
– 'Couldn't find a better time for a visit?'
The door opened, and a startled Kato peered out through a crack. Upon seeing the policeman, she yelled:
– 'What the hell…'
– 'Open up, open up, witch!'
Kato swung open the door and yelled even louder:
– 'How many times have I told you not to come in the middle of the night, you damned pimp!'
– 'Shut your trap, I'm here on business.' The policeman nudged Bulov forward. 'Is this your client?'
Only then did Kato spot a trembling Bulov behind the policeman's broad back and burst into laughter until tears streamed down her face. Ignoring her laughter completely, the policeman pushed Bulov into the room and left, closing the door behind him. Meanwhile, Kato continued to laugh. Every time she looked at the nearly naked Bulov, a new wave of laughter shook her.
Frozen, Bulov leaped headlong into the bed, warming up in the warm sheets and stopping his teeth from chattering, he looked around and noticed that his clothes had disappeared.
– 'Hey, where's my clothes?' he wondered.
Kato bent over laughing even harder.
– 'Oh, I can't, I'm going to die right now…'
– 'Hey, don't die, where did you put them?' Bulov asked worriedly.
– 'I burned your clothes, threw them in the stove, burned everything.'
– 'Are you out of your mind?'
– 'You brought this on yourself.' Kato stopped laughing. 'Half an hour later, I went to look for you, thought maybe you fell into a pit, that board there is completely rotted. You weren't in the toilet, or in the pit either, I walked around, shouted, nowhere to be found, came home worried, every morning we find at least one corpse, how many don't we find?..'