Читать книгу Moscow Blue - Philip Kurland - Страница 9

Oleg took the short notice in his stride, jumped out and opened the back door for his employer. ‘Moment, please,’ he said.

Crocker knew of his driver’s addiction to tennis and noticed as Oleg stormed away, how sprightly the Russian was despite his scrawny build. He remembered he still hadn’t taken up Oleg’s challenge to a game of singles.

After a quick, five-kopeck call from a nearby public wall-phone, Oleg raced back and took the Lada towards the outskirts of the city as fast as the old car could go.

‘By the way,’ said Oleg, addressing the roof of the car, ‘my brother is greatly looking forward to meeting you. He said he has something very interesting for you.’

‘D’you know what this is about, Oleg?’ queried Crocker, preferring to have some advance notice of the subject matter of his meetings.

Oleg shook his head, making the orange pom-pom quiver.

‘No. I don’t know what my brother is working with.’

‘Well, it sounds good,’ commented Crocker. ‘But I suppose I’ll have to wait and see.’

‘His fingers are everywhere,’ said the driver, giving a nervous cough.

‘How long will it take us to get there?’

‘Not long, Mr Lee. Not long. Less than one half-hour I think.’

But Crocker had experience of Russian ‘half-hours’ and suspected it would take a good deal longer.

He was right.

The journey took them past endless rows of apartment blocks; all seemingly built from the same plan, and differentiated only by the numbers on illuminated blue and white plastic boxes fixed to each corner. Side roads were marked by breaks in otherwise endless rows of parked cars, transformed into one colour by sodium-yellow streetlights. Groups of locals chatted outside illuminated shop windows with nothing on display but origami patterns.

‘See those old people queuing?’ Oleg pointed. ‘I tell you something interesting.’

‘Go on,’ encouraged Crocker.’

‘These old people have nothing to do. So their families put them in any queue they see and they wait; all day they wait to buy anything that is being sold. Anything! It is very simple idea. Yes, Mr Lee?’

‘Why would they do that?’ asked Crocker, scanning the groups he could now see were standing in line in the snow.

‘Let me tell you. In this way the family will have something they don’t want now, to sell or change later. Another day. Not complicated and a good idea. Yes, Mr Lee?’

‘Very, Oleg. Very enterprising.’

‘What is “enterprising” please?’

‘Being clever, I suppose.’

Crocker quickly understood the concept and saw the need for people to live like that. He screwed up his eyes to help see better in the fading light and continued to stare out of the window.