The Silver Bone by Andrey Kurkov

Author:Andrey Kurkov
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2024-03-05T00:00:00+00:00

25.

Samson was easily awakened by a polite knock at the door. After a night of patrolling, his sleep wasn’t particularly deep. His body demanded rest, of course, but his mind was reluctant to switch off. Thoughts swarmed through his head, together with fresh memories from the night, during which they had encountered three other patrols, including another Chinese one. And of course, at each encounter the patrols checked each other’s documents. But all these certificates and confirmations of identity no longer inspired full confidence in Samson’s heart. The papers of Martens-Kochevykh—a man with two surnames, one face, and one Mauser—would float up before his eyes. If one could even attach multiple names to a photograph, then documents without photos would appear to be totally useless. How could they be trusted? Simply because they bore seals and signatures? There were hundreds of seals and signatures these days—thousands. For some reason, the only papers Samson didn’t suspect were those of the Chinese Red Army men. In general, Chinese names written in Cyrillic somehow aroused his respect, even admiration. The sound of running feet, which still echoed in his right earhole, also contributed to his wakefulness. He and his comrades had heard that sound several times, but they had never gone in pursuit, because it wasn’t clear where the feet were running to or from in the Kyiv darkness. The last occasion turned out to be the loudest, and in that case, in fact, it seemed obvious which direction they should take. Nevertheless, they made no attempt to follow the unknown runner. Had he fired a shot and then taken off, maybe—but he hadn’t. There were other shots, farther off, either from the direction of the Dnipro or from Pechersk. These only emphasized what the three on patrol already understood—that along with the melting snow and ice, the scum that had lain frozen all winter long was now thawing out. And this scum had resumed stealing, robbing, and killing, only with more frequency than before. There were more thieves around, and it just so happened that their thefts of state-owned firewood deprived the city of street lighting, making the dirty work of robbery that much easier.

The wooden floor pricked Samson’s bare feet with fine needles of cold. He had slept in his clothes, having only removed his boots, and this was why he was able to stagger out into the hallway immediately and open the front door.

“Nadezhda’s here to see you, with a young gentleman,” the yard-sweeper’s widow announced. She pushed him aside and stepped into the hallway, followed by the aforementioned pair.

Nadezhda, in her unbuttoned sheepskin coat, smiled at Samson. The young man, who wore a brown leather cap and an unusual black cloth jacket cut like an ordinary leather jacket, nodded in greeting to his host, who immediately extended his hand.

“Valerian Poddomov,” the young man introduced himself. “I’m Nadezhda’s chief. She said that she might move in here. I thought I’d come and see the place for myself, make sure everything was in order.

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