June 30 – July 2
1993
What we needed the office in Cheryomushki for, I found out by the end of the week. Zhorik got a direct lease on the space and turned around and subleased it at a seventy-percent discount. To anyone able to put down a deposit.
In the newspapers «From Hand to Hand» and «Everything for You,» Zhora placed ads for an office space with Class B-minus renovation, near Akademicheskaya metro station.
A flood of calls poured in.
Waving around papers stamped by Yefimych, Zhorik wrote out passes, led people onto the premises, and showed off a hundred and eighty square meters, available in a week. Shook a direct lease agreement, valid for three years, and pulled a sublease contract out of his briefcase, two copies. Haggled for form’s sake, knocked five or ten bucks off the price per square meter, wrote out a receipt, stamped it, pocketed the deposit, and smiled:
— Yes, yes, you can move in Monday. From the fifth of July, you’re the boss here. We’re expanding, moving out to a mansion on Trubnaya. If you’re ever passing by, come say hello!
Zhorik took a deposit of two thousand dollars from every client. There were plenty of clients. I was on edge. I refused to take part in the illegal activity, sat at home, and stared blankly at the VCR. What I knew about what was happening, I learned from Zhorik, who unloaded stacks of dollars every evening.
By my count, he’d collected twenty thousand. All the while complaining that mobile service was eating up three hundred bucks a day. On top of that, Krasny’s buddies had worn him down with threats: promising to find him underground if they had to, dig him up, wrap his genitals around his neck, and bury him again.
Words like that were enough to make you feel sick.
