Boris Akunin - Special Assignments

And what about the jack of spades that you placed on the bed in front of two witnesses?' the Court Counsellor asked, angrily stubbing out his unfinished cigar in the ashtray.

Ah, yes, that was a bit unnecessary' said the Jack, hanging his head repentantly. 'I suppose you could say it was cynical. I wanted to shift the blame on to the "Jack of Spades" gang. They're the talk of Moscow at the moment. I suppose they'll probably add a church penance to my month of detention for that. Never mind; I'll redeem my sin through prayer.' He crossed himself piously and winked at Anisii.

Erast Petrovich jerked his chin, as if his collar were too tight, although the wide neck of his white shirt embroidered with oriental ornament was not fastened.

'You have forgotten your female accomplice. She can't get out of the lottery charge. And I don't think she will agree to go to prison without you.'

'Yes, Mimi likes company' the prisoner willingly agreed. 'Only I doubt that she'll sit quietly in your cage. Mr Eunuch, would you be so good as to let me take another look at that key?'

Anisii glanced at his chief, tightened his grip on the key and showed it to the Jack from a distance.

'Yes, I wasn't mistaken,' Momos said with a nod. 'An absolutely primitive, antiquated "grandmother's trunk" style of lock. Mimi can have one of those open in a second with a hairpin.'

The Court Counsellor and his assistant were up and away in the same instant. Fandorin shouted something to Masa in Japanese - it must have been 'Keep a close eye on him' or something else of the sort. The Japanese took a tight grip of the Jack's shoulders, and Tulipov didn't see what happened after that, because he had already darted out through the door.

They ran down the staircase and dashed across the vestibule, past the astounded gendarmes.

Alas, the door of 'Tarik-bei's' room was standing ajar. Their little bird had flown!

Erast Petrovich groaned as if he had toothache and went dashing back into the vestibule, with Anisii on his tail.

'Where is she?' the Court Counsellor barked at the sergeant-major.

The gendarme's jaw dropped at the shock of suddenly hearing the Indian prince speak in perfect Russian.

Answer me, quickly now!' Fandorin shouted at the serviceman. 'Where's the girl?'

'Well now ...' Just to be on the safe side the sergeant-major stuck on his helmet and saluted. 'She went out about five minutes ago. And she said her chaperone would stay on for a while.'

'Five minutes!' Erast Petrovich repeated agitatedly. 'Tulipov, let's get after her! And you, keep your eyes peeled!' They ran down the steps of the porch, dashed through the garden and bounded out through the gates.

‘I’ll go right, you go left!' the Chief ordered.

Anisii hobbled off along the fence. One slipper immediately got stuck in the snow and he had to hop along on one foot. The fence came to an end, and there was the white ribbon of the road, the black trees and bushes. Not a soul. Tulipov started spinning round on the spot, like a chicken with its head chopped off. Where should he look? Which way should he run?

Below the steep bluff, on the far side of the icy river, the gigantic city lay spread out in an immense black bowl. It was almost invisible, with just occasional bright strings of street lights in the darkness, but the darkness was not empty, it was clearly alive: something down there was breathing drowsily, sighing, groaning. A brief gust of wind swept the fine white snow across the ground, piercing Anisii's light robe and chilling him to the marrow of his bones.

He had to go back. Perhaps Erast Petrovich had had better luck?

They met at the gates. Unfortunately, the Chief had returned alone too.

Shivering from the cold, the two 'Indians' ran back into the house.

Strange - the gendarmes were not at their post; but from upstairs, on the first floor, they could hear a loud clattering, swearing and shouting.

'What the devil!' Still winded from their run along the street, Fandorfn and Anisii dashed up the stairs as fast as their legs would carry them.

In the bedroom everything had been turned upside down. Masa was squealing in rage, with two gendarmes hanging on to his shoulders, and the sergeant-major was wiping a red ear with his sleeve but keeping his revolver trained on the Japanese.

'Where is he?' asked Erast Petrovich, gazing around.

Who?' the sergeant-major asked in bemusement, spitting out a broken tooth.

'The Jack!' Anisii shouted. 'That is, I mean, that old woman!'

Masa babbled something in his own language and the gendarme with the grey moustache stuck the barrel of his gun in his stomach: 'You shut it, you heathen swine! Well then, Your ...' The serviceman hesitated, unsure of how to address this strange superior. Well then, Your Hinduness, we're standing downstairs, keeping our eyes peeled, as ordered. Suddenly upstairs a woman starts shouting. "Help," she screams, "murder! Save me" So we come up here, and we look and see this slanty-eyed devil's got the old woman who was with the young lady down on the floor and taken her by the throat. The poor woman's screeching: "Save me. This Chinese robber broke in and attacked me!" He's muttering away in his own heathen tongue, something like: "Nowoma, nowoma!" He's a strong devil - look here, he knocked my tooth out and he stove in Tereshchenka's cheekbone too.'

'Where is she - the old woman?' asked the Court Counsellor, grabbing the sergeant-major by the shoulders, obviously very hard - the gendarme turned as white as chalk.

'She's here somewhere,' he hissed. 'Where could she have got to? She's got frightened and hidden away in a corner somewhere. She'll turn up. Ow, would you mind ... That hurts!'

Erast Petrovich and Anisii exchanged glances without speaking.

'Is it back to the chase, then?' Tulipov asked eagerly, thrusting his feet deeper into his slippers.

'No, we've done enough running for Mr Momos's amusement,' Fandorin replied in a crestfallen voice.

The Chief released his grip on the gendarme, sat down in an armchair and let his arms dangle lifelessly. A strange, incomprehensible change came over his face. A deep, horizontal crease appeared across his smooth brow; the corners of his lips slowly crept downwards; his eyes closed. When his shoulders began to shudder, Anisii felt afraid that Erast Petrovich was about to burst into tears.

Then suddenly Fandorin slapped himself on the knee and broke into soundless peals of irrepressible, carefree laughter.

Momos held up the hem of his skirt as he dashed along the fences, past the empty dachas in the direction of the Kaluga highway. Every now and then he glanced round to see if there was anyone in pursuit, if he ought to dive into the bushes which -the Lord be praised! - grew thickly along both sides of the road.

As he ran past a snowy grove of fir trees, a pitiful little voice called to him: 'Momchik, there you are at last! I'm frozen already'

Mimi peeped out from under a spreading fir, rubbing her hands together pitifully. He was so relieved he sat down right there on the edge of the road, scooped up a handful of snow and pressed it against his perspiring brow.

The false nose slid completely to one side and Momos finally tore the damn thing off and flung it into a snowdrift. 'Oof,' he said. 'It's a long time since I've run so hard.'

Mimi sat down beside him and lowered her head on to his shoulder. 'Momochka, there's something I have to confess to you ...'

What is it?' he asked cautiously.

'It wasn't my fault, honestly ... The thing is ... He wasn't a eunuch after all.'

'I know,' Momos muttered, furiously brushing the green needles off her sleeves. 'It was our acquaintance Mr Fandorin and his gendarme Leporello. They really took me for a ride. First class all the way'