A vile, vile frosty morning. This isn’t funny any more. Every morning a foul mood takes possession of me, capable of driving me to desperate, insane acts. Hang myself, shoot myself, poison myself, I’m ready to do anything at all as long as I don’t have to crawl out from under the blanket. No, there’s a simpler way.
I opened my eyes, leapt out of bed and blurted out to the dumbfounded Magda everything I thought on the subject of early rising. I explained to the fool with the eyes flung wide as fifty-kopeck pieces that Russia is the homeland of chaos, that here, with the most precise address in hand, people search for the right house for months, that here they even sing songs like «My address is not a house and not a street, my address is the Soviet Union». I showed her with a gesture exactly what part of me Hans’s assignment would be until he gave me something to go on. I asked her to estimate how many dacha settlements there are around Moscow, and tapped a finger against her narrow little forehead. I made goat horns at her and expounded what would happen to me and to her if I slipped up in the search and the ferocious Russian mafia came out on us. I waved my arms for a long time, sprayed spittle and talked, shouted, expressed myself… And when I had completely run out of breath, I got my wind back and, last of all, explained to the witless little German girl that in Moscow civilised people sleep till ten in the morning, after which I tore the blanket out of her little paws, dived under it and fell asleep.
I slept well, but not for long. I was hit on the head with something incomprehensible – or rather, not so much hit as symbolically struck. I tensed, expecting the execution to continue, but there was no continuation.
Having waited a couple of seconds, I opened my eyes and beheld a little roll of paper right in front of my nose – what’s this? I shifted my gaze to the solemn Magda, towering above me.
– Was ist das?
– Read it.
I read it.
It was a facsimile from Hans, consisting of four points:
- Lead reported by the courier: the semi-finished components for the drug are produced on industrial plant. The end product is made at a dacha.
- The product is decanted into ampoules of 10 ml capacity.
- Chemical formula of the product …
- Arbalet, fewer speeches, more work. Search.
A highly informative little note, especially point four.
I yawned, glanced at the clock – seven in the morning. Well, well! Managed it in an hour. A very swift madam.
– It’s not nice to tell tales, – I remarked to Magda, sighed and set about getting dressed.