It was a rare experience. As Arkady edged into traffic on the Boulevard Ring, other cars-Mercedes, Porsches and especially Ladas-parted.
“You certainly make an impression in a car like this,” Arkady said.
“That’s the idea.”
The ZIL also afforded privacy. With the windows rolled up, all Arkady heard was the whisper of air- conditioning.
“You and Tatiana? No offense, but that seems, in terms of personality, a bit of a mismatch. Not to mention the fact that you’re thirty years older.”
“I know. No one knows better than me.”
“Where?”
“Sochi. The Black Sea Cultural Festival. I was doing readings. Tatiana was a student on holiday with friends. When they left early, she stayed. Some guys who were high on drugs tried to mug her. I chased them off. I bought her a drink, and she bought me a drink, and one thing led to another. By the time the festival ended, we were totally in love. Forever.
“In Moscow everything changed. Everybody needed her. She was involved in every cause. Palestinians, Africans, Cubans. Russians too, can’t forget reform in Russia. I was drowning and she was in her element. We both knew it. At the end, I didn’t think she even noticed I was gone. As a philosopher once said, ‘There’s no fool like an old fool.’ ”
They cruised by the art galleries and florist shops on the Boulevard Ring. Maxim rolled a cigarette. Arkady declined. More and more, the poet put Arkady in mind of a mountain man checking his line of traps.
“Why do you want the notes? Do you think you’re in them? It sounds like it’s been years since you and Tatiana saw each other. Why would she be writing about you now?”
“It was years, then I ran into her a month ago. And a couple of times after that. There’s just a chance that I would be mentioned.”
“If you were, so what?”
“Personal reasons.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“Okay. I’m up for an award in America. A lifetime achievement award.”
“What does that mean?”
“Basically, that you’re still alive. The dead do not qualify. Standards in the United States are low.”
“Then why do it?”
“The prize comes with money.”
“Even so.”
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
“Ah.”
“If the Americans hear that I’m involved somehow in a murder case, I can kiss the prize good-bye.”
“The person you should talk to is Obolensky. He’s the man with the notes.”
“Obolensky? When shrimp whistle. No, I’m talking about your friend Anya. I understand she has the notes. She’d let you see.”
“I doubt that. I don’t know that she’s even talking to me.”
“I’ve seen you two together. She was born to talk to you, like drops of water drilling through a stone. Drip, drip, drip. Drilling until there’s space for dynamite.”
They had made a circle back to Arkady’s Niva, which became smaller with the approach of the ZIL.
“A fantastic car,” Arkady said.
“And bulletproof. You’re in the illustrious company of presidents, despots and hero cosmonauts who have led parades.” Maxim handed Arkady a business card with the address and telephone number crossed out and a new phone number penciled in. “It would be even better to get a copy of the notes.”
“With Anya’s consent.”
Maxim said, “Any way you want to do it.”
• • •
When Arkady first met Zhenya, the boy was standing in the cold outside a children’s shelter. He was eight years old, stunted like a boy who pushed tubs in a coal mine and virtually mute. At seventeen, Zhenya seemed simply a larger version of himself. He was the ugly duckling that did not change into a swan and was self-effacing to the point of disappearing. Except in chess. In the confines of a chessboard he ruled and humiliated players whose ratings were far higher than his because he preferred cash to tournament trophies.
Arkady found Zhenya at a computer repair shop a block off the Arbat. Three technicians were at work, each surrounded by plastic trays of candy-colored diodes, miniature tools and flexible lights. Each also wore earphones connected to his separate world. Zhenya’s specialty was audio enhancement. Not music, just sound. A hookah bliss hung in the air.
The first man to notice Arkady was startled.
Zhenya pulled his earphones off. “It’s okay. He’s with me.” To Arkady he said, “What are you doing here?”
“Here? You called and left a message.” Arkady always felt on the defensive with Zhenya. “Besides, I wanted to thank you for the chocolate chess piece you brought when I was laid up. I should have thanked you before.”
“I didn’t have a card.”
“That’s okay. Since it was a chess piece, I took a wild guess.”
“Yeah.” Zhenya cleared his throat. “Speaking of chess, I made some decisions. I don’t think hustling chess is going to do it for me. There’s no money, not real money.”
“What about computers?”
“Hacking?”
“Try something legal.”
“Not a desk job. I’ve been sitting all my life. I’ve been playing chess since I was five years old. I mean, I’ve got to find a different route. Not this place.”
“So?” This was hopeful, a real conversation.
“I need your help.”
Arkady was way ahead. He was already figuring which university or technical institute Zhenya should apply to. How to use what influence he had. “Whatever you need, just tell me.”
“Great.” Zhenya dug into his backpack and presented Arkady with a folded letter.
“What is this?”
“Read it.”
Arkady skimmed the letter. He knew what it was.
“Parental permission,” Zhenya said. “I’m underage and you’re the closest thing to a father I have. I’m enlisting in the army.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I can wait seven months and do it by myself, but I’m ready now.”
“No.”
“You don’t think I would make a good soldier?”
Arkady thought Zhenya would make a good punching bag for soldiers.
“It’s not that.”
“You were in the army. Your father was a general. I read about him. He was a killer.”
“It’s a different army now.”
“You don’t think I can take the hazing?”
It was more than hazing, Arkady thought. It was a system of brutalization at the hands of drunken noncoms and officers. It was daily beatings with fists and chairs, standing naked in freezing weather and the least sign of intelligence stamped out. It was a system that produced soldiers who went AWOL, strung themselves up by their belts or traded their weapons for vodka.
“In seven months-”
“I wish your father was here,” Zhenya said. “He’d let me sign up.”
