but according to my desires.’
He plucked up his courage and tugged at the door – it was locked. So then he knocked.
It was a few moments before it opened, and even then it was only by a crack. An eye glinted in the darkness.
Just to be on the safe side, Senka repeated: ‘Sufoeno.’
Someone behind the door asked: ‘What do you want?’
‘I’d like to see Deadeye . . .’
At that the door opened wide and Senka saw a young lad in a silk shirt with a fancy belt and Moroccan leather boots. He had a silver chain dangling out of his waistcoat pocket with a little silver skull on it – you could see straight off he was a real top-notch businessman. And he had that special kind of glance, like all the businessmen did: quick and piercing, it didn’t miss a thing. Senka felt really jealous: the lad was the same age as him, and not even as tall. Some people have all the luck!
‘This way,’ the lad said, and walked on in front, without looking at Senka any more.
The dark collidor led to a room where two men were playing cards, slapping them down hard on a bare table. Each of them had a heap of banknotes and gold imperials lying in front of him. Just as Senka and his guide walked in, one of the players flung his cards down and yelled:
‘You’re cheating, you whore’s tripes! Where’s the queen?’ And he punched the other man smack on the forehead.
The other man got up from the table and fell backwards. Senka gasped – he was afraid the man would smash the back of his head open. But as he fell, he turned a backward somersault, just like an acrobat in the circus big top, then jumped up smartly on to the table and lashed the man who had hit him across the kisser with his foot! ‘You’re the cheat!’ he shouted. ‘The queen’s been played!’
Well, of course, the one with the boot in his face tumbled over. Gold went rolling and jangling across the floor, and paper money went flying in all directions – what a sight!
Senka was scared, he thought someone was about to get killed. But the other lad just stood there grinning – he thought it was funny.
The man who had started the fight rubbed his cheekbone.
‘The queen’s been played, you say? Why, so it has. All right, let’s get on with the game.’
And they sat down as if nothing had happened and gathered up the scattered cards.
Senka looked a bit closer and his jaw dropped in amazement and his eyes almost popped out of his head. Looking closer, he saw the two players had the same face, you couldn’t tell them apart. They both had snub noses, yellow hair and thick lips, and they were dressed exactly the same. It was incredible!
‘What’s your problem?’ his guide asked, tugging on Senka’s sleeve. ‘Let’s go.’
They walked on. Another collidor, and another room. This one was quiet, with someone sleeping on a bed. He had his kisser turned to the wall, all you could see was a fat cheek and a jug-ear. The great hefty hulk was stretched out, snoring away with his boots still on.
Senka’s guide took small steps, walking quietly on the tips of his toes. Senka did the same, only quieter.
But, as the hulk went on snoring, one hand stuck out from under the blanket, and a black gun barrel glinted in it.
‘It’s me, Lardy, it’s me,’ the young businessman said quickly.
The hand went back down, but the sleeper still didn’t turn towards them.
Senka took off his cap and crossed himself – the wall was covered with icons, just like the icon screen in a church. There were holy saints, and the Virgin, and the Most Holy Cross.
A man was sitting by the opposite wall with his long legs stretched out, and his feet propped up on a table in shiny bright half-boots. He had specs and long straight flaxen hair and he was twirling a sharp little knife, no bigger than a teaspoon in his fingers. He was dressed neatly too, like a gent, even had a string tie. Senka had never laid eyes on a bandit dressed like that before.
Senka’s guide let him go ahead and said:
‘Deadeye, the ragamuffin’s to see you.’
Senka gave him an angry sideways glance. He could have thumped him for that word, ‘ragamuffin’. But then the man called Deadeye did something that made Senka gasp: he flicked his hand,