in that tub almost every day that God sent. Senka imagined her sitting there all pink and steamy, scrubbing her shoulders with the sponge, and the fantasy made him feel all hot and steamy too.
The house was pretty impressive from the outside too. There used to be some general’s manor house here, but it burned down, and just this wing was left. It was pretty small, with only four windows along the boulevard. But this was a special spot, right smack on the boundary line between the Khitrovka slums and the well-heeled Serebryaniki district. On the other side of the Yauza, the houses were taller and cleaner, with fancier plastering, but here on the Khitrovka side, they weren’t so smart. Like the horses they sold at the horse market: look at it from the rump, and it seems like a horse all right, but from any other angle it’s definitely an ass.
And so the front of Death’s house that overlooked the boulevard was neat and dignified, like, but the back led out into a really rotten passage, and a gateway only spitting distance from Rumyantsev’s flophouse. You could see what a handy home the Prince had found for his girl – if anything happened, if he was ambushed at her place, he could dash out the back way, or even jump out of a window and make a beeline for the flophouse, and there was no way anyone could ever find him in all the underground collidors and passages there.
But from the boulevard, where the well-bred people strolled about between the trees, you couldn’t see the back passage, let alone Rumyantsev’s place. Khitrovkans couldn’t go out past the fancy railings – the coppers would sweep them up with their broom in a flash and stick them in their rubbish cart. Even here, on the Khitrovka waterside, Senka tried not to make himself too obvious, he stuck close to the wall of the house. He was behaving himself proper too, not like some kind of riff-raff, but even so, Boxman spotted him with his eagle eye as he was walking past and stopped.
‘What are you doing skulking over there?’ he asked. ‘You better watch yourself, Speedy, I’m warning you.’
Now that was him all over! He already knew who Senka was and what his moniker was, even though Senka was still new in Khitrovka. That was Boxman for you.
‘Don’t you dare nick a thing,’ he said, ‘you’re out of your jurisdiction, because this ain’t Khitrovka, it’s a civil promenade. You look out, young Speedy, you sly little monkey, I’ve got you under special observation until the first contravention of legality, and if I catch you, or even suspect you, I’ll issue you a reprimand across that ugly mug of yours, fine you a clout round the ear and sanction you round the ribs with my belt.’
‘I’m not up to nothing, Uncle Boxman,’ Senka whined, pulling a face. ‘I just, you know, wanted to take the air.’
And for that he got a cast-iron mitt across the back of his head, smack crunch between the ears.
‘I’ll teach you what for, snarling “Boxman” like that. What a damned liberty! I’m Ivan Fedotovich to you, all right?’
And Senka said meekly:
‘All right, Uncle Ivan Fedotovich.’
Boxman stopped scowling then. ‘That’s right, you snot-nosed little monkey.’ And he walked on – big, solemn and slow, like a barge floating off down the Moscow river.
So Boxman went and Senka stayed right where he was, looking. But now he wanted more so he tried to figure out how to get Death to come to the window.
He had nothing better to do, so he took the green beads out of his pocket, the ones he’d snaffled just that morning, and started studying them.
What happened with the beads was this.
As Senka was walking away from Sukharevka through the little lanes around Sretenka Street. . .
No, first you need to be told why he went to Sukharevka. Now that was really something to be proud of. . .
Senka didn’t just go off to Sukharevka for no reason, he went on good honest business – to get even with his Uncle Zot. He lived according to the laws of Khitrovka now, and those laws said you should never let a bad man get away with anything. You had to settle every score, and it was best to pay it back with interest, otherwise you weren’t really one of the lads – just some wet-tailed little minnow.
So Senka set out, and Mikheika the Night-Owl tagged along