Authors: Boris Akunin
But soon after that Mr Nameless stopped treading the carpet down, sat in an armchair and spoke thoughtfully, as if he was talking to himself: ‘So. Three cruel m-murders have been committed: the first and the third were in Khitrovka, the s-second was five minutes’ walk from Khitrovka, but still in the area under the j-jurisdiction of the Third Myasnitsky police station. In all, the c-criminal has taken the lives of eight people – two m-men, three women and three children – and, for some reason, a p-parrot and a dog too. In each case one of the victims was t-tortured cruelly before he or she d-died, in an attempt to extort certain information required by the k-killer. There are no clues and n-no witnesses. Such, in brief, are the terms of the p-problem facing us. We know the required result –find the m-monster and deliver him into the arms of justice.’
‘An’ if not arive, then deriver him to justice dead,’ Masa added quickly.
‘If the criminal should offer resistance when an arrest is attempted, then,
after having exhausted all the legally permitted measures of self-defence’ –
at this point the engineer raised one finger in the air and gave his valet a significant glance – ‘it might not prove possible to circumvent the outcome that you mention.’
‘I’d like to find the rat and smash his rotten bonce in,’ said Senka, putting in his two kopecks’ worth.
‘Not “b-bonce”, but “head”. But whatever you call it, first we have to track him down.’ Erast ran his eyes over the other members of the meeting there assembled. ‘Are there any questions before we move on to d-deduction and practical measures?’
Senka didn’t know what to ask, but the Japanese scratched his stiff brush of hair and drawled thoughtfully: ‘Sa-a. Masta, why “kirrer”, not “kirrers”?’
Erast Petrovich nodded to acknowledge the relevance of the question.
‘You gave a very c-convincing rendering of the criminal’s actions at Khokhlovsky L-Lane. Why would he n-need an accomplice?’
‘That no argumen’,’ Masa snapped.
‘I agree. I ought t-to have asked: Why would the killer need an accomplice, if so f-far he has managed p-perfectly well on his own? In the b-basement Senya was attacked by one person. That is one.’ Mr Nameless took out his beads and clacked one of them against another. ‘The k-killings at the jewellery shop were also committed by a single individual, as the p-police have established. That is two.’ He clacked another bead. ‘And finally, at Yeroshenko’s d-dosshouse the killer also managed p-perfectly well without anybody else’s help. As you recall, Senya told us Siniukhin spoke of one m-murderer, “he”. Isn’t that right, Semyon?’
‘Yes,’ said Senka, remembering. ‘And Siniukhin called him a “beast” as well.’
He felt a bit ashamed for not telling Erast Petrovich the whole truth back then – he’d kept quiet about the treasure.
It was as if the engineer was listening to Senka’s conscience reproaching him.
‘So now, if you have no m-more questions, let us move on to the most important s-subject – drawing up a plan of measures to f-find the criminal. And the k-key word here is – treasure.’
Senka shuddered and started blinking rapidly, but the sensei wasn’t at all surprised, he even nodded his head.
‘Yes, yes, tresia.’
‘The criminal’s b-behaviour and all the atrocities he has c-committed cease to appear meaningless if we st-string them on that thread.’ Mr Nameless looked intently at his beads. ‘The logical sequence that emerges here is as f-follows. The pen-pusher from the Yerokha b-basements found some treasure. [Clack number one.] The future m-murderer found out about it. [Clack number two.] He tried to d-drag the secret out of Siniukhin, but he f-failed. [Clack number three.] But before he d-died, the pen-pusher revealed the secret of the t-treasure to our Senya. [Clack number four – this time Senka squirmed, and if the burning feeling in his cheeks was anything to go by, he must have blushed too, but Erast Petrovich didn’t look at him, he carried on as if Senka knew all this anyway.] To c-continue. In some unknown manner, the k-killer figured out that Senya knew where the treasure was. [Clack number five.] That is, we d-don’t know
how
the criminal f-found this out, but we do know from where. The t-trail that our treasure hunter followed to Senya started f-from the jeweller’s shop. [Clack number six.] I believe Samshitov told the k-killer about you and where you could be found – which is c-confirmed by a certain visit paid to Madam Borisenko’s b-boarding house. [Clack number seven.]’
Senka started blinking again:
What visit was that, then?
The engineer and the Japanese exchanged glances, and Erast Petrovich said: ‘Yes, Senya, yes. The only thing that s-saved you was that you left that evening without l-leaving an address, and a few hours later we b-brought you here. The next day Madam B-Borisenko informed Masa that someone had been in your room d-during the night. He forced the door, didn’t t-touch anything and left. We didn’t tell you about it, b-because you were thoroughly f-frightened already.’
Senka propped his chin on his fist, as if he was feeling thoughtful, but it was really to stop his teeth chattering. Holy Mother of God, he’d be lying tied to a bed now, like Tashka, if he’d stayed there that night and decided he ought to sleep on things.
‘When you disappeared, the k-killer lost the trail for a few d-days. But then you showed up in Khitrovka, and the c-criminal knew about it straight away, perhaps by chance, perhaps in s-some other way, I don’t know which. Somehow he f-found out that you had gone into Yeroshenko’s d-dosshouse, and he ambushed you n-near the exit. Your carelessness almost c-cost you your l-life. [Clack number eight.]’
‘Never mind, I’m not that easy to catch,’ Senka said, trying to blow his own trumpet. ‘He tried to take my life but I’m slippery, I wriggled out of his grip, and I gave him a good whack with my stick. He won’t forget that in a hurry.’
‘If he had wanted to k-kill you, he would have done. Straight away,’ said the engineer, pouring cold water on Senka’s bravado. ‘He’s very g-good at it, with a knife or with his b-bare hands. No, Senya, he needs you alive. He would have f-forced you to reveal the whereabouts of the treasure, and then k-killed you.’
When he heard that, Senka propped his chin up again, this time with both fists.
‘When the k-killer lost your trail after the murder of the jeweller, he decided to try a d-different approach. Many p-people in Khitrovka knew about your f-friendship with Mademoiselle Tashka. Your admirer knew about it t-too. [Clack number nine.] At first he clearly attempted to extract information f-from her without resorting to extreme m-measures. That was what she whispered about when she walked p-past you – she was trying to warn you of the d-danger. The criminal obviously paid her another visit after the unsuccessful attack in the b-basement. It was no accident that Tashka put three white d-daffodils in the window. If I recall correctly, in the language of f-flowers, that is an alarm signal – “run, run, run”.’
Yes, that was right, Senka remembered. Tashka had told him about white daffodils, and how when a signal was repeated, that made the message twice or three times as strong, like an exclamation mark.
‘‘Eventually’ the engineer said, looking at his beads, but not clacking them any more, ‘the f-fiend decided to take a more serious l-line with the girl.’
‘And still she didn’t give me away ...’ Senka couldn’t help himself, he sobbed. ‘Damn that rotten treasure. It would have been better if Tashka told him I’d promised to come and see her. Maybe then he wouldn’t have touched her. And I’d have given him everything, the lousy rat could go choke on the silver! It’s the Prince, isn’t it? Or Deadeye?’ he asked, brushing his tears away with his sleeve. ‘You’ve probably deduced it all, haven’t you?’
‘No,’ said Mr Nameless, disappointing Senka’s hopes. ‘I have insufficient d-data. The deceased pen-pusher was too f-fond of his drink, and apparently he couldn’t k-keep his mouth shut. If they knew about the t-treasure in the Prince’s gang, others could have heard about it too.’
And then there was silence, as Senka struggled with all his might to control his body’s reactions: teeth that wanted to chatter, knees that wanted to knock and tears that wanted to flow. For no clear reason, Erast Petrovich started messing up a piece of paper in that stupid way he had. He dipped his brush in the inkwell and scrawled a fancy squiggle. Masa watched the brush carefully. He shook his head and said:
‘Not goo’.’
‘I can s-see that,’ the engineer murmured, and scribbled it again. ‘How about that?’
‘Betta.’
Honest to God, they were just like little kids! All this important business to deal with, and look what they were doing!
‘What are you mucking about like that for?’ Senka asked, unable to stop himself. ‘Aren’t we going to do anything?’
‘Not “m-mucking about”, but “wasting time”. That is one.’ Erast Petrovich leaned his head to one side, admiring his scribbles. ‘I am not wasting t-time, I am focusing my thoughts with the help of c-calligraphy. That is two. The f-flawlessly written hieroglyph for “justice” has allowed me to m-make the transition from d-deduction to projection. That is three.’
Senka thought for a moment and said: ‘Eh?’
Mr Nameless sighed. ‘If there is s-something that you didn’t understand or d-didn’t hear, you should say: “I beg your pardon?” In this case, p-projection signifies the extension of analytical c-conclusions into the practical phase. So, thanks to Mademoiselle Tashka’s f-firm resolve, the killer has been left with n-nothing. He does not know where to find you or how to l-look for you. This is good in some ways and b-bad in others.’
‘What’s bad about it?’
‘The c-criminal (I suggest that for the time b-being we call him the Treasure Hunter) cannot d-do anything, so he will not show his hand and g-give himself away.’ Erast Petrovich gave Senka a calculating look. ‘Of c-course, we could try catching him with live b-bait, that is deliberately offer you to him, but this gentleman is t-too brutal by half. It could be a risky f-fishing expedition.’
Senka didn’t try to argue with that. He’d seen people fishing with live bait – a blay or some other little fish: the pike snapped up the bait first and sank its teeth into its backbone, before it got hauled out to answer for its crimes.
‘Isn’t there any way we can catch him without live bait?’ he asked cautiously.
‘There is way,’ said the sensei. ‘Not rive bait, but dead person. Is that it, Masta? Have I guess’ righ’?’
Erast Petrovich frowned. ‘Yes. But how many t-times do I have to tell you not to pun. You still haven’t m-mastered the Russian language well enough for that.’
Senka wrinkled up his forehead. It seemed like he was the only fool among wise men here.
‘What dead person?’
‘Masa is thinking of the l-lady who goes by the name of Death,’ the engineer explained. ‘In s-some way that we d-do not yet understand, all the atrocities that have taken place in Khitrovka over the l-last month are c-connected with that individual. And so are all the m-major characters involved: the Prince, and Deadeye, and other luminaries of the undergound b-business world, and the excessively spry s-superintendent, and even the Treasure Hunter’s m-main target.’
That means me,
Senka guessed.
‘You want to use Death to catch him? You think she’s in league with this lowlife?’ he asked doubtfully.
‘No, I d-don’t think that. And what is m-more, she has agreed to help me.’
Well, that was news for him! So when Senka climbed back out through the window, completely disillusioned with people, the two of them had come to some sort of deal, had they? Or rather, he’d talked her round, Senka thought bitterly, and he just couldn’t help himself, he asked all casual, like: ‘So you gave it to her, did you? Didn’t take much persuading, I suppose?’
His voice trembled, the Judas.
The engineer gave Senka a light flick on the forehead. ‘Such questions are n-not asked, Senya, and they are certainly not answered. That is one. Women are not to be spoken about in that t-tone. That is two. But s-since all of us, including her, will be working together in a common c-cause, in order to avoid any ambiguity, I shall answer: I d-did not “give it to” that lady and I did not even t-try. That is three.’
Should Senka believe him or not? Maybe he should ask him to swear in the name of God.
He gave Mr Nameless a keen look and decided a man like that wouldn’t lie. His heart suddenly felt lighter. ‘But how can Death help us?’ he asked, switching to a brisk, practical tone. ‘If she knew anything about this Treasure Hunter, she’d have told us. She don’t approve of that savagery like that.’
Masa grunted suggestively, as if to say: Get ready, now I’m going to tell you the most important part. Senka turned towards the Japanese, but he said something Senka couldn’t make out at all:
‘Taifu-no meh.’
But the engineer understood. ‘Exactly. A v-very precise metaphor. The eye of the t-typhoon. Do you know what that is, S-Senya?’ He waited for Senka to shake his head and started to explain. ‘A typhoon is a t-terrible kind of hurricane that races across s-sea and land, spreading destruction and t-terror. But at the very centre of this st-storm there is a spot of serene t-tranquillity. Within the eye of the typhoon, all is p-peace, but without this static centre, there would be n-no raging whirlwind. Death is not a criminal, she d-does not kill anyone – she just sits by the window and embroiders f-fantastical designs on cloth. But the m-most ruthless villains in this city of more than a million p-people swarm round her, like b-bees round their queen.’
‘Also goo’ imaj,’ Masa said approvingly. ‘But mine betta.’
‘Well, m-more romantic, certainly. During the last few days I have p-paid several visits to the house on the Yauza B-Boulevard and had an opportunity to g-get to know this lady better.’
Ah, have you now? Senka was scowling again. ‘Well, Erast Petrovich, you sly dog, you find time to get everywhere, don’t you? What does “get to know her better” mean?’
‘The last t-time we met,’ Mr Nameless went on, obviously not noticing how badly Senka was suffering, ‘she said she c-could tell she was being f-followed, but she d-didn’t understand who was following her. When I went out on to the b-boulevard, out of the corner of my eye I also spotted a shadow lurking round the c-corner of a house. This is encouraging. Mademoiselle Death is n-now our only chance. By killing Tashka, Mr Treasure Hunter snapped the thread l-leading to you with his own hands. And now, like the old couple in
The Golden Fish,
he is left with a broken tub . . .’