el.angeleyes-第81部分

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　Koi　heard　the　soft　phut！；　saw　Big　Ezoe's　body　stagger　backward　into　the　hallway。　He　fell　to　his　knees。　His　eyes　were　turning　upward　in　their　sockets；　and　there　was　blood　on　his　chest　where　his　frantically　pumping　heart　was　sending　it　through　the　hole　made　by　the　bullet　from　the　silenced　gun。
　Koi　did　not　step　into　the　trap　so　carefully　laid　out　for　them。　She　saw　that　she　could　no　longer　help　Big　Ezoe；　grabbed　the　man　with　the　misshapen　ear；　pushed　him　hard　into　the　Green　Room；　and　took　off　back　down　the　pewter　and　beige　hallway。
　Behind　her；　Hitasura　stepped　carefully　over　Big　Ezoe's　body；　smiling　on　the　corpse's　opaque　eyes。　In　his　hand　was　a　Beretta。
　〃One　shot；〃　he　said。　〃That's　all　it　takes　to　silence　anyone。〃
　Then　Russell　Slade　was　beside　him；　saying；　〃I've　got　to　get　back　to　Tori。〃　Hitasura　nodded。
　Three　of　Hitasura's　men　rushed　from　the　Green　Room　down　the　hall。　〃That's　right；〃　Hitasura　told　them；　still　staring　at　Big　Ezoe　with　satisfaction。　''Track　her　down。　Then　make　quite　sure　you　kill　her。〃　But　it　was　clear　that　he　had　already　found　the　most　important　measure　of　his　revenge。
　rade　Volkov　is　incapable　of　any　real　form　of　understanding。　What　did　Odysseus　mean　by　that？　All　of　a　sudden　it　seemed　important　for　Irina　to　find　out。　She　felt　like　Methuselah；　stirring　from　a　centuries…old　sleep；　her　brain　still　not　at　full　speed；　still　partly　cobwebbed；　moving　through　a　world　she　had　not　made；　of　which　she　would　never　be　fully　a　part。
　Using　the　key　Valeri　had　given　her；　Irina　let　herself　into　his　apartment　on　Kirov　Street。　It　was　silent。　There　was　the　smell　of　boiling　cabbage　down　the　hall；　and　Irina　quickly　shut　the　door　behind　her。
　She　went　methodically　through　the　apartment；　looking　in　all　the　rooms；　in　the　closets　as　well；　feeling　somewhat　foolish；　but　less　anxious；　for　all　that；　when　she　had　determined　the　place　was　empty。
　She　paused　at　the　bedroom　window　that　overlooked　the　Church　of　the　Archangel　Gabriel。　She　knelt；　then　bowed　her　head；　made　the　sign　of　the　cross。　She　said　a　little　prayer；　then　rose；　turned　away。
　/　am　concerned　by　your　dependence　on　men。
　。　。　。　Seeing　the　future　as　the　past；　Irina　thought　of　the　devastation　visited　on　her　family　when　her　father　had　been　taken　away　by　the　KGB。　How　are　we　to　live！　her　mother　had　wailed。　Holy　Mother；　protect　us！
　Irina's　mother　did　not　sit　around　the　house　for　long；　however。　A　week　after　her　husband　was　taken　from　her；　she　dressed　in　her　best　clothing；　went　out　day　after　day。　Irina　assumed　she　was　petitioning　the　state　for　the　release　of　lrina's　father。　Later；　when　her　father　did　not　return；　she　assumed　her　mother　had　found　a　job。
　As　it　turned　out；　Irina's　mother　was　far　more　pragmatic　than　Irina　could　have　imagined；　because　one　day　she　came　home　with　a　man；　and　introduced　him　to　Irina　and　Yvgeny。　Pavel　was　a　short；　glowering　man　of　partial　Lithuanian　descent。　He　was　a　hod　carrier；　and　his　bulging　muscles　and　hulking　posture　frightened　Irina。
　Pavel　was　only　recently　widowed；　Irina's　mother　told　her；　and　he　was　very　sad。　Irina's　mother　had　determined　to　provide　Pavel　with　a　new　family。
　Though　Irina's　mother　said　nothing　of　this；　Irina　understood　immediately　from　her　mother's　demeanor　that　it　was　vital　that　they　all　do　their　best　to　make　Pavel　happy　and　content　so　that　he　would　not　leave　them。
　Yvgeny；　older　than　Irina　by　four　years；　reacted　badly　to　another　man's　presence　in　his　father's　house。　He　was　twelve；　an　age　of　rebellion。　Yvgeny　was；　by　nature；　a　rebel　anyway；　and　Pavel's　presence　merely　served　to　drive　him　further　along　that　path；　so　that　he　began　to　disappear　evenings；　staying　out　most　of　the　night。
　Irina's　mother　was　so　visibly　distraught　that；　once　or　twice；　Pavel　went　out　after　Yvgeny；　bringing　him　forcibly　back。　But　after　Yvgeny　set　fire　to　Pavel's　shoes；　in　the　process　almost　burning　down　the　apartment；　Pavel　gave　up。
　〃He's　not　my　son；〃　he　said　with　a　shrug。　〃Why　should　he　listen　to　anything　I　tell　him？〃
　〃But　he　will　get　into　trouble；〃　Irina's　mother　said；　wringing　her　hands。
　〃He's　already　in　trouble；〃　Pavel　said。　〃But　you　can't　chain　him　to　the　bedpost。〃
　〃Dear　God；　he　needs　his　father。〃
　Pavel　got　up　and　left　the　room。
　Irina's　mother　and　Pavel　were　married　some　weeks　later。　That　event　hardly　helped　matters　with　Yvgeny；　who　did　not　show　up　for　the　ceremony。　During　the　next　months；　Irina's　mother　spent　more　and　more　time　at　church；　praying　for　her　son。
　Irina　found　Pavel　to　be　kind　but　dull…witted。　He　had　no　ambition；　seemed　unaware；　in　fact；　that　a　world　existed　beyond　the　confines　of　Moscow。　Irina　remembered　him　ing　through　the　door　each　night；　white　with　concrete　dust。　She　used　to　watch　him　at　the　kitchen　sink　while　she　was　preparing　his　dinner；　meticulously　washing　the　flesh　beneath　his　fingernails　free　of　ground　red　brick。
　His　hands　were　so　large　they　seemed　swollen；　and　when　she　ran　her　fingers　over　his　palms；　they　felt　like　slabs　of　wood。　He　was　invariably　gentle　with　her；　though　he　spoke　very　little；　mumbling　something　unintelligible　when　she　set　his　dinner　before　him。
　Irina　would　watch　him　eat；　longing　for　him　to　say　something；　or　even　look　at　her；　but　he　seemed　totally　absorbed　with　eating；　as　if　he　would　die　if　he　did　not　cram　every　bit　of　food　on　his　plate　into　his　mouth　as　quickly　as　possible。
　One　night　when　Irina　was　alone　with　him；　she　chanced　to　pass　the　bedroom；　and　saw　Pavel　undressing　through　the　partly　open　door。　He　had　his　back　to　her；　and　as　he　raised　his　shirt　over　his　head；　she　stifled　a　gasp。　The　ridged　muscles　of　his　curved　back　were　disfigured　by　the　crisscrossing　of　many　scars。　They　were　not　new；　but　the　cuts　had　been　so　deep　that　they　never　healed　properly。
　Hearing　her；　Pavel　whirled　around；　stared　hard。　Irina　was　terrified　that　he　would　be　angry　at　her；　but　instead　Pavel　sat　down　on　the　end　of　the　bed；　held　out　his　hand　to　her。
　Irina　walked　hesitantly　into　the　bedroom。　She　saw　her　mother's　wood　and　gilt　icon　on　the　wall　over　the　headboard；　the　cheap　prints　of　the　Russian　countryside　her　father　had　loved　so　dearly；　the　rocker　that　was　always　Babushka's　when　the　family　had　lived　outside　Moscow。
　Pavel　took　Irina's　hand　in　his　scarred　callused　ones。　〃Have　I　frightened　you；　koshka？　I　am　sorry。　I　am　not　a　handsome　man。　I　know　I　am　lucky　to　have　found　your　mother。　Most　women　would　not　look　at　me。　My　first　wife　used　to　mock　me；　but　I　like　to　think　she　loved　me　nonetheless。〃　He　frowned。　〃Do　you　understand　this？　No；　perhaps　not。〃　He　shrugged。　〃Well；　it　has　nothing　to　do　with　the　scars　on　my　back；　except　that　when　my　father　used　to　beat　me；　he'd　say；　'You　beast；　you　monster！　You　cannot　be　mine！　What　nightmare　did　you　e　from！'　〃
　〃Oh；　how　awful！〃　Irina　had　cried。
　〃In　a　way　it　was；''　Pavel　said　softly。　''But　only　in　a　way。　You　see；　I　was　happy　to　take　my　father's　anger；　because　I　knew　that　then　he　would　leave　my　mother　alone。　On　the　nights　when　he　would　e　home　drunk　and　couldn't　find　me；　he'd　start　on　my　mother。　I　can　still　hear　her　screams。　Oh；　but　they　were　terrible！　They　would　make　me　weep。　My　brothers　would　huddle　together　in　the　far　corner　of　our　room；　but　I　would　go　out　into　the　hall　because　I　had　to　help　her。〃　Pavel's　eyes　were　turned　inward；　and　at　last　there　was　a　spark　in　them。　〃One　night　I　couldn't　stand　it　anymore。　I　ran　into　the　kitchen；　grabbed　a　carving　knife　and…〃
　〃You　killed　him？〃　Irina's　eyes　were　opened　wide。
　Pavel's　eyes　returned　to　the　present；　focusing　on　her。　〃No；　no；　koshka。　My　father　took　the　knife　out　of　my　hand　and　whipped　me。　Oh；　how　it　hurt；　but　I　had　stopped　him　from　beating　my　mother；　and　that　was　a　good　feeling；　I　can't　describe　how　good。''
　〃What　happened　to　them？〃
　〃My　parents？　My　father　died　of　a　liver　disease　brought　on　by　his　drinking。　But　that　was　three　years　after　my　mother　had　died。''
　〃That　time　must　have　been　bad。〃
　〃Bad；　yes。　Very　bad。〃　Pavel　looked　at　her；　then　impulsively　hugged　her　to　him。　''But　do　not　think　of　these　evil　things；　koshka。　I　am　here　to　protect　you　and　your　mother。〃
　Pavel　had　kept　his　promise　for　as　long　as　he　had　lived。　But　he；　it　seemed；　like　Irina's　father；　was　in　a　hazardous　profession。　He　developed　acute　emphysema　from　the　quantities　of　harsh　dust　he　inhaled　each　day　on　the　job。　By　then　Yvgeny　was　dead；　and　the　family；　spinning　helplessly　out　of　control；　fell　apart。　Irina's　mother　was　not　good　at　taking　care　of　him…she　was　not　even　capable　of　taking　care　of　her　own　children。
　Irina　stared　now　at　the　Church　of　the　Archangel　Gabriel；　where　her　mother　had　taken　her　so　often。　Abruptly；　it；　too；　seemed　alien；　part　of　another　time；　another　place；　a　sanctuary　for　another　Irina；　not　this　woman　who　stood　here；　at　last　breaking　free　of　her　memories；　her　rage　at　the　helplessness　of　being　a　child；　and　far　worse；　a　female　child；　set　adrift　in　a　world　made　for　men。　All　this　emotional　baggage　seemed　removed；　a　distant　report　like　thunder　booming　far　off；　diminishing　with　each　moment。
　White　Star。
　Irina　turned　back　into　the　apartment。　Somewhere　in　here；　she　thought；　there　must　be　some　hint　of　the　information　Valeri　held　on　the　nationalist　group。　She　crept　carefully　through　every　inch　of　his　closets；　looking　in　the　pockets　of　his　trousers　and　suit　jackets；　opening　unmarked　boxes；　sifting　through　piles　of　linen；　old　photographs。　At　his　desk　she　leafed　through　official　papers；　personal　correspondence；　blank　paper。
　Her　exposure　to　the　films　of　James　Bond…a　favorite　of　the　students　she　knew…while　she　was　in　America　had　taught　her　to　look　behind　pictures　hung　on　the　walls；　inside　the　medicine　cabinet　in　the　bathroom。　In　the　living　room　she　unzipped　slipcovers；　got　down　on　all　fours；　running　her　hand　around　the　bottom　part　of　the　furniture　frames。
　She　ended　up　in　the　kitchen；　peering　inside　metal　canisters　of　flour；　sugar；　and　tea　to　make　sure　there　wasn't　some　bit　of　paper　secreted　there。　All　her　sleuthing　came　to　nothing。
　She　sat　wearily　down　in　a　dinette　chair；　stared　blankly　at　the　dark　screen　of　the　Toshiba　lap…top。　An　hour　and　a　half　of　bing　through　Valeri's　apartment；　and　nothing　to　show　for　it。
　Sitting　here；　alone；　reminded　her　of　all　the　mornings　she　had　sat　in　this　very　spot　watching　Valeri　prepare　wonderful　breakfasts。　In　the　winter　it　was　always　warm　in　here；　as　it　had　been　in　Babush