Two minutes later I knocked on the door where three hours earlier I knocked out a secret agent who was threatening my life.
I wondered if the ambulance had come in time to save his life. I still felt the cracking sound of his throat on my hand bones. It wasn't a pleasant sensation.
Nobody answered. I used my key to enter. There were no changes inside the room, perhaps more disorder. Pavel wasn't there, probably he went away to exchange the money for his son. I wished everything could go off well.
I looked at my watch, it was nearly past half eight, time to have breakfast.
I found in the desert breakfast hall Hewlett and Mary who were sipping their tea.
"You look sleepy," remarked Hewlett, as I sat down at their table. "A stormy night?".
How would he have judged my night if I had decided to tell him only a small part of the events?
I only shrugged:
"Well, nothing special, some unexpected meetings." (With the dead bodies of the women I had made love with a few hours before).
I asked, more out of politeness, than anything else:
"Any news? As to our yesterday's clients?"
"Are they still alive, you mean?" Hewlett grinned. "No, I heard nothing of it. We shall wait and see if they show up at nine thirty. If they don't, it would mean something ominous."
He was satisfied and cynical, like a man who had obtained what he wanted and now was actually uninterested in the further developments.
"What if they do show up?" I cautiously insisted.
Mary said:
"Would you like to eat something? You must be hungry."
I said with a sigh:
"I am, indeed. I usually skip breakfast, but not this time."
Hewlett answered my question:
"If they show up, I have something to offer them."
I said, getting up:
"Are you through with your breakfast? Then, where shall we meet?"
"In my room," said Mary. She didn't look fresh, as I noticed after a quick attentive glance at her face. Everybody had his stormy night. "Would you come round a bit earlier? I have something to ask you."
"Sure, I'll be there in fifteen minutes", I said and went to the buffet counter from which exciting smells of hot Spanish omelette and sausages were coming. I was really hungry.
Fifteen minutes later I was knocking at Mary's room.
She wore a dark green tailleur and had a rather official look. She cast a me a long attentive glance before asking me:
"Where were you last night?"
Somehow I was prepared to such a question.
"Which part of the night?" I said with an invisible sneer.
She sighed:
"Do you know what's happened to Robert's wife and his former secretary?"
"I happen to know it."
"Do you have anything to do with their death?"
"No." I used the short pause to make a counterattack:
"May I ask the same question regarding you?"
"No."
"Ok, does Hewlett know about these facts?"
"He does."
"He doesn't seem to be grieving very much."
"He oughtn't to."
"It's a matter of common decency. He could have at least a sad look, or a shaken expression of the face. European education teaches it so well. Mary, what's going on?" My last question intended to break the ice that somehow had grown on our relation since they had parted about midnight.
"You tell me." She looked sternly and inquisitively.
I faked confusion (which I, frankly speaking, was experiencing indeed in that moment), as I said, stuttering:
"I..., I don't know, I'm at a loss. Who might have done it? Do you really think it was me? But why? I hadn't the slightest interest in doing it."
Her small eyes that were suspiciously piercing me, widened a bit which was a good sign. She said:
"It might have been your friend."
"I tell you what. Mary, I thought it was you."
"What? Why on earth? How dare you suppose such thing?"
"I beg your pardon, Mary, but I felt you admired Hewlett so much, that the idea of another woman who might lay claim to him was unbearable for you."
She choked with indignation (that seemed to be real):
"But not to such an extent!"
"I share your indignation and I'm ashamed of having supposed such a disgusting thing, but the atmosphere itself of today's Moscow inclines one to murder. We all have suddenly dropped here to the lowest level of social solidarity and become slaves of the primitive instincts."
"Not me!" cut short Mary.
"I believe you, ok, let's drop the subject. Oh, no, one more thing. I wanted to thank you for recovering the briefcase with the million, but now I don't know..."
Mary didn't say anything, just dropped her eyes. At that moment there was a knock on the door, it opened and Hewlett's voice said:
"Time to go down. Will you, Sergey?"