forget, my word’s as tough as steel!’
‘Now that’s more like it,’ said Death, smiling at something. ‘That’s convincing. I agree. Tell me your terms and conditions, Innokentii Romanich.’
The colonel seemed rather taken aback by this sudden compliance, and he backed away a couple of steps, which took him out of view again.
But it didn’t take him long to recover. There was a creak of boot leather and a hand in a white glove reached down to pick up the bouquet.
‘I do not understand you, Señora Morte, but let that be, it is not important. Only bear in mind that I am a proud man and I will not be made a fool of. If you take it into your head to cheat me ...’ His fist clenched round the violets so tightly that all the stems snapped. ‘Is that clear?’
‘Yes, that’s clear. Get to the point.’
‘All right, then.’ Solntsev reappeared in the crack. He was about to present her with the bouquet, but then he noticed that the flowers were limp and lifeless, and tossed them on to the table. ‘Until I take out the Prince, you will live here. I’ll come in secret, at night. And you’d better be affectionate! I don’t tolerate coldness in love.’
He took off his gloves, threw them on the table too and reached out for her.
‘And won’t you be afraid to come to me?’ Death asked. ‘Doesn’t it frighten you?’
The superintendent’s hands dropped. ‘That’s all right. I’ll bring Boxman with me. The Prince won’t dare stick his nose in with him around.’
‘I don’t mean the Prince,’ she said quietly, moving closer. ‘Isn’t it a fearful thing to toy with Death? Have you never heard what happens to my lovers?’
He laughed. ‘Nonsense. Tall tales for ignorant proles.’
She laughed as well, but in a way that made Senka’s skin crawl. ‘Why, Innokentii Romanich, you’re a materialist. That’s good, I like materialists. Well then, let’s go to the bedroom, since you’re so very brave. I’ll give you the sweetest hugging I can.’
Oh, didn’t Senka just groan at that! To himself, of course, quietly, but that only made the groan all the more painful. What George said about women was right: ‘Moncher, essentially they are all bedspreads. They lay themselves out for whoever pushes the hardest.’
Senka thought the superintendent would go dashing into the bedroom after what she’d just said, but he jangled his watch and sighed. ‘I am ablaze with passion, but I cannot quench the flames now, I’ve been called to the police chief’s office to report at half past six. I’ll drop in late this evening. And mind now, no tricks!’
The brazen dog patted Death on the cheek and walked to the door, jingling his spurs.
Death took out her handkerchief and lifted it to her face, as if she was going to wipe her cheek, but she didn’t. She sat down at the table and sank her face into her crossed arms. If she had started to cry, Senka would have forgiven her everything, but she didn’t cry –her shoulders didn’t shake, and he couldn’t hear any sobbing. She just sat there like that.
Senka raised his head and gave Mr Nameless a rueful look: what a fool I am.
But he shook his head thoughtfully and moved his lips, and Senka guessed rather than heard what he said: ‘An interesting individual . . .’
Erast Petrovich winked at him, as if to say: don’t let it get you down. Then he signalled – the time had clearly come to get involved.
But more footsteps came – not crisp steps, like the superintendent’s, but heavy, plodding ones, with a bit of a shuffle.
‘Well then, begging your pardon,’ said a gruff bass voice.
Boxman! Senka grabbed Mr Nameless by the knee: Stop, you mustn’t go out! ‘His Honour forgot his gloves. He sent me, decided not to come himself.’
Death raised her head. No, there weren’t any tears on her face, but her eyes were blazing even brighter than they always did.
‘I should think not.’ She laughed. ‘Innokentii Romanich made such a grand exit. Coming back for his gloves would spoil the whole effect. Take them, Ivan Fedotich.’
She picked the gloves up off the table and threw them to him. But Boxman didn’t go straight away.
‘Oh, girl, girl, just look at what you’re doing to yourself! God gave you all that beauty, and you drag it through the mud, you mock God’s gift. That peacock came out of here gleaming like a fresh-polished boot. So you didn’t refuse him either. But that