«It was a murder,» said Marmarov. Arseny rose from his chair in amazement. «Or someone led him to suicide. Carefully planned and well executed. Which gives us
«Nonsense,» Arseny collapsed into his chair. «And where traces of struggle?» He cocked up his thumb in counting. «Where fingerprints?» he pinned out his forefinger. «There were no trace of any psychotropic drugs or poison in his blood,» Arseny \'s middle and forth fingers popped up. «Ilya so gently descended into a water that there were not a drop left on the floor.» A little finger finally formed an open palm.
«Is that all?» astrologer bowed his eyebrow.
«He was alone and died from loss of blood. The wound which Ilya self-inflicted was nothing but a deep scratch. If I with Boris would arrive earlier, we could save him.» A pencil in hand of Arseny knocked against the table; an open palm laid on the table; fingers tagged on the conversation in tempo presto.
«Is that all?!»
«He
«And the fact that he invited you with Boris to give an interview, after what he rushed to a rendezvous with God … Doesn\'t look suspicious to you?!»
«Not at all. His meeting with the press was a guarantee that his body will be found at the same moment.»
«And the fact that a shock and horror distorted his face and features?!» raised voice Marmarov. «You are witness to it!»
«He woke up, apparently, in the last moment. But … It was too late. No one\'s fault, unless …»
Arseny paused catching Marmarov\'s attentive look and comically spread his hands:
«Unless … Stars, parade of planets. Is the sky restless today?»
Marmarov turned pale. Not omitting the sight he pulled a voluminous folder closer. Opened it and tossed on the table.
Its bloody glossy pages curved like a broken wing.
«Page 112.» said Marmarov. «Take a look.»
«So what? Corridors of Time, February issue. Old stuff!» Arseny flipped a page. «Here is page 110. Let me see,» one more page is turned up.
If thunder would rumble into Arseny\'s ear, it wouldn\'t terrify him that much. His mouth fell open: Ilya was looking at him from an open magazine page… in the disguise of Marat, insidiously stabbed in his own hot tub. And the face …
He glanced at the date.
«Where did it came from?!» muffled Arseny in stupor.
Rhetorical question hang like a hauled down sails – like a dull, grey cloth.
«Where did it came from?!» repeated he louder, tossing aside the journal as it was a slippery snake.
The magazine brilliance laughed gloatingly to his face.
«Well, now.» calmly asked Marmarov. «Got it?!»
«Yes. Well, no. Hmm,» he shook in head. «I understand in my heart but can\'t explain in words… I remember a movie where a murder was somewhat written. Later it was projected into realily. Is that it?!»
«Something like that.»
«But that was a plot of
«Energy field of real historical events is not a myth. Zvezditsky knew about it: separated himself from any bathrooms, left Moscow out into wilderness. He was
«By whom?!»
«By someone who has proven his ability to sculpt the event, to be conductor of resonance.»
«Unbelievable!»
«Maybe. But did fiction writers have created a matrix of other events? It works, Arseny. Alas, not only for science fiction writers.»
«And no insurance?»
«There is. Don\'t make faces in front of the camera, not to mention the photos such as these,» he nodded at the magazine. «Anguish and death is no excuse for ambitions. It\'s not the best backdrop for a photo shoot as well as lifeless, dull landscapes …».
«And what about a reporter\'s job?»
«Go ahead, … But, don\'t get yourself into a
«So who is the murderer of Zvezditsky?»
«The one who killed his wife.»
«What?!»
Tossed away magazine was picked up again. Inessa is burning in a makeup of Joan of Arc. Her eyes were imploring for mercy…
«We can\'t go to the police with that.»
«Naturally.»
«And what now?»
Marmarov shrugged.
«How about the astrology symbols and other tips from the stars?»
«There no many reference points. I\'ve found the tendencies and displayed warning signs…»
«Meanwhile, killer walks free.»
«Let\'s hope for a verdict from above.»
«Words,» Arseny turned away, towards the window «and words only…»
«Not At All. Destruction is contagious and so for
