A Cold Red Sunrise by Kaminsky Stuart M

Author:Kaminsky, Stuart M. [Kaminsky, Stuart M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Detective
ISBN: 9781585470211
Publisher: MysteriousPress
Published: 1987-12-31T23:00:00+00:00

EIGHT

A DEDUSHKA, A GRANDFATHER WITH a massive, old-fashioned white mustache, held his bundled-up grandchild by the hand and ordered an ice cream. Sasha, who was now growing accustomed to using the ice cream scoop, served them while Boris Manizer watched his new assistant critically. The child, no more than two, was wearing a snowsuit that made him or her look like a cosmonaut.

The grandfather paid and held out the ice cream for the child to lick. The child was wrapped too tightly to bend his arms.

“He likes it,” said the grandfather revealing an almost toothless mouth.

“Good,” said Boris pulling Sasha back behind the stand where two waiting customers, probably foreigners, stepped up to be served.

“Do you see them?” Sasha said looking around the shopping center.

“No,” whispered Boris. “I just wanted to remind you to scoop like this. Like this. You leave a little hollow space in the ball. You use a little less ice cream. By the end of the day, you save gallons. You understand?”

“Yes,” Sasha whispered back. “You cheat the people.”

Boris stepped back and put his right hand to his heart.

“Cheat? Me? The people? Never,” he said. “I keep innocent children from eating too much ice cream and getting terrible cramps. Children will do that. I have children. They do that. I’m doing them a service.”

“You are a hero of the Revolution,” Sasha said.

“Can we get ice cream?” a fat woman demanded. Next to her was an almost identical fat woman. They were either mother and daughter or sisters.

“See,” whispered Boris. “You think they need a fat scoop of ice cream? No. They’re never going to look like French women but we can help them a little.”

“I recant,” said Tkach looking down at Boris. “You are a saint, not a hero of the Revolution.”

For the next few hours the two men worked in relative silence. Boris said no more about how to scoop. He served and watched the crowd for the possible return of the two criminals, an event that Tkach was certain would not take place.

“An ice cream, please,” came the woman’s voice above the noise of the afternoon crowd when Tkach was turned away. Before he could respond to Maya’s voice, Boris was serving her.

Behind Boris’s back, Sasha turned and showed his white uniform to his wife and to Pulcharia who looked blankly at her father from the carrying sling on her mother’s back. Maya, wearing her insulated blue coat, smiled, almost laughed at her husband who shrugged as Boris reached down to gather a hollow scoop. Sasha moved forward, put his hand on Boris’s shoulder and shook his head ‘no’ when the little man turned to him.

“I’ll take this customer,” Sasha said.

Boris considered reminding Tkach who was in charge of this ice cream stand but he stopped himself, remembering that this smiling youth was a policeman. It was difficult to remember that he was a policeman. He looked like … like a kid standing there with that smile, serving the pretty dark woman with the baby on her back.

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