Moscow Noir полностью

Anna went over to Thomas’s crib. He was looking at his mobile. “Jake, I can’t get to him,” she said. “The crib’s too high.” “I’ll bring a chair!” Jacob responded. A minute later Anna was climbing onto the chair and looking down at Thomas. “So pretty,” she said softly. “Of course he’s pretty,” Jacob agreed. “But that’s completely beside the point.” “Yes,” Anna said. “Is the water hot enough?” Jacob inquired. “You understand what I mean when I ask if the water’s hot enough, right?” “Yes, Jake. It’s boiling.” Anna raised the kettle, screwed up her eyes, and upended it on Thomas. A piercing shriek filled the nursery.

Yulia shook her head, driving out the terrible thoughts, and took another swig of vodka. The thoughts returned.

What’s the big deal? Yulia thought. The big deal is that I would never survive Oleg leaving me.

She gave herself a good shake and stumbled into the bathroom on wobbly legs. A second later she came out clutching a mop.

“Puss puss puss,” Yulia called faintly, glancing around the room.

Barsik jumped out from behind the couch. Yulia caught him in her arms and moved out to the balcony. There she lay the cat on the tile floor. Barsik stayed there obediently, watching her with his slanted little blue eyes.

“I’m proud of you,” said Jacob. “Don’t howl.” “I can’t not howl. This is Thomas after all. He’s still little and it hurts,” Anna said, weeping. Jacob hugged his sister. He glanced at his little brother screaming in anguish in his crib with a piece of red meat where his face had been. “You see, Anna, he shouldn’t suffer. We’re going to save him.” Jacob moved away from his sister and took the screaming Thomas out of his crib. He put him on the rug. “Did you bring what I said?” “Yes,” Anna answered obediently. Jacob took the golf club from her hands. He stepped back a little and took aim. He raised the club high over his head, then lowered it with a whistle at Thomas’s head, which cracked like a watermelon.

Yulia placed the mop handle against Barsik’s neck. Then she held onto the railing and jumped with all her might on the handle. There was a crunch and Barsik’s eyes popped out of their sockets and a wheeze tore from his throat. His little pink tongue jutted out to the side.

Yulia exhaled violently and nearly ran to the kitchen to crush the grief inside her with vodka. The firewater lashed her throat. She was sobbing.

“Don’t cry, Anna,” Jacob said calmly. “They’ll buy another rug, and I tell you, they aren’t going to yell at you. Now it’s your turn.” “Jackie, let’s watch television,” Anna said. “I don’t like playing with you anymore.”

Out the window, the ship-casino was bathed in blue lights. In the kitchen, Yulia skinned the carcass convulsively, tossing the fur onto an opened newspaper.

Oleg arrived at 9 o’clock. By that time Yulia had washed, made herself up again, and put on a red dress. She was a little unsteady from all she’d drunk, but Oleg didn’t notice.

He lifted his nose, inhaling the aroma of the roasted meat. He slipped off his jacket, ran a handkerchief over his bald spot to wipe away the sweat, and as a final gesture smoothed his beard.

“What’s for supper?” he asked cheerfully, giving Yulia a pat on the cheek.

“R-rabbit,” she hiccupped.

“Excellent!” Oleg rubbed his hands and hurried into the kitchen. He sat down on a stool.

Yulia served him pieces and he ate it, crunching the bones and smiling contentedly, like a cat. The oil ran down his beard. Yulia sat across from him.