The door flew open behind him, and Tkach whirled and went into a crouch, his gun in two hands, ready to shoot the second man, anxious to shoot the second man, but there was no second man.
' 'Maht. Mother,'' cried the little girl, releasing her father's leg and running past Sasha to Tamara, who stood in the doorway, panting-Tamara, who had taken the time to finish putting on her makeup.
The girl ran into the arms of Tamara, who picked her up and kissed her face and nose, leaving splashes of lipstick that looked like smears of blood.
'Sit down,' said Tkach, motioning to a sofa against the wall with his gun.
Tamara hurried to the sofa.
'You, too,' said Tkach to the bearded man.
The man moved to join his wife and daughter. Once again, Tkach kicked the door closed.
'Where's the other one?' he demanded. 'And don't tell me he's your son or brother or father.'' 'He's my friend,' said the bearded man as he sat next to his wife, who put her head on his shoulder and continued to hold the child, who sobbed uncontrollably.
'Where?' Tkach demanded.
'Let me explain,' the man said. 'Please put the gun away. You are frightening Alanya. I have no gun. Please.'
'Where is he?' Tkach demanded.
The bearded man sighed and stood again.
'Shoot me,' he said. 'Take me in the hall and shoot me.
I don't care. I can't tell you where he is, who he is. I cannot tell you. I will not tell you. You know what I have?'
With this he pointed to his chest and continued.
'I have two apartments, one where I have a daughter, one where my wife prostitutes herself so we can make a living. You know why I can't make a living?
I was a political prisoner. I cannot get work. I can only go through life waiting to die and not working or do what I do.'
Tkach was in complete confusion as the man began to pace back and forth before him. And then, from the crib against the wall, came the waking cry of a baby.
' 'You know what else a man like me has? You know?'' he went on as he walked, his angry eyes on Tkach. 'I have my word. If I tell you where… where the person is you seek, I'll have nothing. Better to die now, here, in dignity.'
'Sit down,' cried Tkach.
'You're frightening Alanya,' the bearded man said. 'Your face is all bloody.' '' Sit down,'' Tkach shouted, and the man sat and the child cried and the woman named Tamara closed her eyes and began to rock her little girl.
Now the cries from the crib grew louder.
'You almost killed my partner,' Tkach screamed. 'He will lose an eye.'
'We didn't know he was there,' said the bearded man. 'We thought you were the only one and you were with-'
The bearded man looked at Tamara, whose eyes were still closed.
'He took us by surprise,' the man continued. 'We fought, tried to hold him down.
We wanted the computer, not trouble. Do we have to talk about this in here? The child.'' 'Here, now,' insisted Tkach.
'We've never hurt anyone before,' said the man, putting his head in his hands as if he were very tired. Then his head came up, and Tkach could see that the man's eyes were red.
'You want the truth? We've taken eleven computers, and we're not the only ones. That's the truth. This is the only time we have taken one in these buildings, where we live. It was just too… too… tempting.
And you want to know where… the other man is. He is home, in pain. Your friend broke his ribs, cracked a bone in his face. My friend is home with his family, spitting blood into the toilet. Your computer is there, inside that cabinet. Now, will you please take me out of here, away from them?'
The woman named Tamara opened her eyes and looked at Tkach. The baby in the crib was wailing now.
'Get the child,' Tkach said, and the man moved to the crib and lifted out an infant that could not have been more than a few months old.
' 'We took them only from Jews,'' Tamara said with a sniffle, accepting the infant from her husband. 'We thought you were a Jew.'
Tkach laughed. He had not expected it, but he laughed.
'You're not a Jew, are you?' she asked, cuddling the sobbing baby while the child called Alanya continued to immerse herself in her mother's right breast.
'The Jews are responsible for all our troubles,' said the man. 'They started the whole damn Revolution. Trotsky, the Jews, and now they're destroying the Revolution with their computers, their conspiracy with Israel.'
'We take computers only from the Jews,' Tamara repeated.
Tkach had controlled his laughter now, and through his tears he looked at the family on the sofa, the family that thought it was acceptable to steal computers as long as the computers belonged to Jews.
'Jews have money,' said the man. 'They can get more computers.'
'But,' said Tkach, 'I am a Jew.'
'Then,' said the man softly, 'we are dead.'
The man sat erect, flared his nostrils, and urged his wife and daughter to assume the dignity he sought.
'Then shoot us, Jew, as you've shot thousands before us.'
The baby had grown silent in her mother's rocking arms, but the child called Alanya had turned her terrified wide eyes back on the bloody-faced madman who had invaded their apartment. This, Tkach could see in her eyes, was what she had been taught to fear, the monstrous Jew.
Tkach put his gun into his pocket and stood looking down at them.
'Give me your wallet,' he said.
The man tilted his head to the side, expecting some torture, some trick, and then he reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and held it up.
'Throw it,' said Tkach.
And the man threw it. Tkach caught it, removed the identification card, and threw the wallet back.
'You have a pencil?'
'Yes,' said the man.
'Get it out.'
The man reached into his pocket and came up with the yellow stub of a gnawed pencil.
Tkach gave the man a telephone number and told him to write. The man wrote the number and looked up.
'Pack your things and get out of Moscow with your family,' Tkach said. 'It is the same offer I gave your wife. Call your friend and tell him to get out, too.
I will keep your card, and you will tell me where you are going. If you do not inform me of where you are within ten days, I will send out a bulletin, and you will be caught and returned to me. When you call me, I will inform the local police, and they will watch you. If you commit a crime, even a small crime, we will come for you.''
The man gave a nasty, knowing grunt.
' 'You have one hour to be out of here,'' Tkach said, crossing the room to the cabinet and opening the door. 'Two hours to be out of Moscow.'' 'But where can we…?' Tamara began.
'Two hours,' Tkach repeated. 'And after the phone call to me when you get wherever you decide to go, I want to hear nothing of you or from you ever again.''
Tkach retrieved the computer, which had been placed back in its carrying case.
He lifted it in one hand and turned to face the family. There was no gratitude in the face of the bearded man, but there was something there that made Tkach sure that he would have his family at least fifty miles from Moscow
