'Well, what do you f-find suspicious about that?' asked Fandorin.
'It doesn't make sense, does it - why does an emporium need a glass dome?' Anisii remarked reasonably. And anyway, Chief, you told me to point out to you any announcements that invite people to contribute money, and this is a joint-stock company. Perhaps it's a swindle?'
'It isn't,' the Court Counsellor reassured him. 'The Duma really has decided to demolish the Municipal Arcade and build an enclosed three-storey gallery in the Russian style in its place. Go on.'
Tulipov set aside the rejected article from the Moscow Municipal Gazette and picked up the Russian Word.
'Chess Tournament. At two o'clock this afternoon in the premises of the Moscow Society of Chess Lovers, M. I. Chigorin will play a tournament against ten opponents. Mr Chigorin will play a I'aveugle, without looking at the board or writing down his moves. The stake for a game is 100 roubles. An entry ticket costs 2 roubles. All who wish to attend are welcome.'
'Without looking at the board?' Erast Petrovich asked in surprise, and made a note in his little book. 'All right. I'll go along and play.'
Cheered by this, Anisii went on to read an announcement from the Moscow Municipal Police Gazette.
'Unprecedented real estate lottery. The international evangelical society "The Tears of Jesus" is holding its first monumental charitable lottery in Moscow to support the construction of the Chapel of the Shroud of the Lord in Jerusalem. Fantastically valuable prizes, donated by benefactors from all over Europe: apartment houses, villas in the finest European cities. Prizes are confirmed on the spot! One standard ticket for 25 roubles. Hurry, the lottery will only be in Moscow for one week, and then it will move on to St Petersburg.'
Erast Petrovich was intrigued. A monumental lottery? A very creative idea. The public will take to it. No need to wait for the draw; you learn if you've won anything straight away. Interesting. And it doesn't look like a swindle. Using the Police Gazette f-for a hoax is too bold a move altogether. Although we can expect anything from the "jacks" ... I think you'd better go there, Tulipov. Here's twenty-five roubles. Buy a ticket for me. Go on.'
'News! I have the honour to inform the respected public that in recent days my museum, located opposite Solodovnikov's Passage, has taken delivery from London of an extremely lively and cheerful chimpanzee with a baby. Entrance 3 roubles. F. Patek.'
And what has the chimpanzee done to displease you?' the Chief asked with a shrug. 'What do you s-suspect her of?'
'It's unusual,' Anisii mumbled. In all honesty, he had simply wanted to take a look at this great marvel, especially since it was so 'lively and cheerful'. And the entrance charge is too high.'
'No, that's not ambitious enough for the Jack of Spades,' said Fandorin, shaking his head. And you can't disguise yourself as a chimpanzee. Especially a baby one. Go on.'
'Missing dog. On 28 January this year a male dog, a large mongrel by the name of Hector, went missing. He is black, with a crooked rear left leg and a white patch on his chest. Anyone who returns him will receive 50 roubles. Bolshaya Ordynka
Street, the house of Countess Tolstaya, ask for Privat-Docent Andreev.'
The Chief sighed at this announcement too: 'You seem to be in the mood for fun this morning, Tulipov. What would we want with "large mongrel"?'
'But it's fifty roubles, Erast Petrovich! For a common mongrel! That's really suspicious!'
'Ah, Tulipov, people love that kind of beast, with crooked legs, more than the handsome ones. You don't understand a thing about love. Go on.'
Anisii sniffed resentfully, thinking: And you know so much about love, don't you? That's why the doors slam in your house in the morning and they don't serve my coffee.
He read out the next item of the day's harvest: 'Male impotence, weakness and the consequences of the sins of youth cured with electrical discharges and galvanic baths by Doctor of Medicine Emmanuel Straus.'
An obvious charlatan,' Erast Petrovich agreed. Only it's rather petty for the "jacks", isn't it? But go and check anyway'
Anisii returned from his expedition shortly after three in the afternoon, tired and with nothing to show for it, but in a good mood which, as a matter of fact, had been with him all through the preceding week. He was looking forward to the most enjoyable stage of the work: the analysis and discussion of the events of the day.
'I see from the absence of any gleam in your eyes that your nets are empty' the perspicacious Erast Petrovich said in greeting. He had evidently only got back recently himself -he was still wearing his uniform and the crosses of his decorations.
And what do you have, Chief?' Tulipov asked hopefully 'What about the generals? And the chess player?'
'The generals are genuine. And so is the chess player. A truly phenomenal gift: he sat with his back to the boards and didn't take any notes. He won nine games out of ten and only lost one. Not bad business, as the traders say nowadays. Mr Chigorin took in nine hundred roubles and paid out a hundred. A net profit of eight hundred, and all in about an hour.'
And who did he lose to?' Anisii asked curiously.
'Me,' his chief replied. 'But that's not important; the time was wasted.'
Wasted, was it? thought Tulipov. A hundred roubles' worth!
He asked respectfully: 'Do you play chess well?'
'Terribly badly. It was pure luck.' Looking in the mirror, Fandorin adjusted the already ideal wings of his starched collar. 'You see, Tulipov, in my own way I am also something of a phenomenon. The gambler's passion is unknown to me, I loathe all games, but I always have the most fantastic luck in them. I grew used to it a long time ago and it no longer surprises me. It even happens in chess. Mr Chigorin got his squares confused and ordered his queen to be moved to f5, instead of f6, right beside my rook, and he was so upset that he decided not to continue. Playing ten games without looking is really extremely difficult, after all. But what have you got to tell me?'
Anisii gathered himself, because at these moments he felt as if he were taking an examination. But it was an enjoyable examination, not like a real one. Nobody gave him poor marks or failed him here, and quite often he won praise for his keen observation or quick-wittedness.
Today, it was true, he had nothing special to boast about. Firstly Tulipov's conscience was not entirely clear: he had taken himself off to Patek's museum after all, spent three roubles of public money and gaped for half an hour at the chimpanzee and her baby (they really were both exceptionally lively and cheerful, the advertisement had not lied), although this was of absolutely no benefit to the job in hand whatsoever. He had also gone round to Bolshaya Ordynka Street, out of sheer professional zeal, had a word with the owner of the mongrel with the crooked leg and listened to his heart- breaking story, which had concluded in restrained manly sobbing.
Anisii did not really feel like telling the Chief all the details about the electrical doctor. He started, but then became embarrassed and broke off. In the line of duty he had had to submit to a shameful and rather painful procedure, and even now it still felt as if he had needles pricking his crotch.
'Straus, that doctor, is a repulsive character,' Anisii tattled to Erast Petrovich. "Very suspicious. Asks all sorts of foul questions.' And he concluded spitefully: 'There's someone the police ought to look into.'
Erast Petrovich, a man of delicate sensibilities, did not inquire into the details. He said with a serious air: 'It was praiseworthy of you to subject yourself to the electrical procedure, especially since in your case any "consequences of the sins of youth" are scarcely possible. Self-sacrifice for the sake of the cause deserves every encouragement, but it would have been quite enough to restrict yourself to a few questions. For instance, how much this doctor charges for a session.'
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