el.angeleyes-第34节

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ights　were　on；　although　it　was　only　just　twilight　outside。
　〃You　go　ahead；〃　Irina　said　without　much　enthusiasm。　〃I'm　not　feeling　hungry。〃
　''But　of　course　you　must　be　hungry；''　Mars　said；　taking　down　some　plates　from　his　cupboard。　〃It's　after　eight；　and　if　I　know　Number　One　Gastronome；　the　lines　must　have　prevented　you　from　having　time　for　a　proper　lunch。''
　〃Actually；　they　weren't　so　bad；〃　Irina　said。　〃I　had　time　to　get　these。〃
　Mars　took　the　small　envelope　from　her；　opened　it。　〃Tickets　to　Three　Sisters'。〃　He　grinned。　〃Well；　you　certainly　are　full　of　surprises　tonight。〃
　You　don't　know　the　half　of　it；　Irina　thought　unhappily。
　Mars　put　the　tickets　down。　〃But　why　so　sad；　Irina？　Did　you　have　a　bad　day　at　the　office？　No；　no；　don't　tell　me　if　you　don't　want　to。　I　know　you　like　your　privacy。　But　e；　I　see　dinner　at　home　holds　no　interest　for　you。　Let's　go　out！〃
　This　was　Mars's　solution　to　all　things：　eat；　be　with　people；　get　drunk；　feel　life　in　all　its　diversity　flow　like　a　powerful　stream　all　around　you；　until　it　began　to　seep　through　you　then　into　you；　until　the　roof　of　your　despair　was　made　leaky　and；　whether　you　liked　it　or　not；　life　began　again　to　wash　over　you。
　He　took　her　to　a　tiny　Georgian　restaurant　he　had　discovered；　where　they　were　happy　to　serve　him　even　when　it　was　near　to　nine　at　night　and　other；　larger；　restaurants　had　stopped　serving　hot　meals。　It　was　a　boisterous　place；　filled　with　good　smells；　the　bined　heat　of　the　nearby　kitchen　and　its　cheery　denizens。　They　ate　chicken　tabaka；　drank　pepper　vodka；　and　most　important；　Mars　kept　her　talking。
　〃Tell　me　about　your　family；〃　he　said。　〃What　was　your　home　life　like？〃
　〃Lousy；〃　Irina　said。　〃My　father　was　a　secret　drunkard；　you　know；　weekends；　days　off。　But　he　never　missed　a　day's　work。　He's　been　dead　now　a　long　time。　He　worked　in　nuclear　engineering；　but　he　never　brought　his　work　home；　never　talked　about　it。　I　suspect　he　drank　because　he　had　watched　his　parents　die　in　the　Siberian　winter；　and　I　think　he　could　never　forgive　himself。''
　〃For　what？〃
　〃For　living　when　they　had　died。　He　took　the　coat　off　his　mother's　body；　the　shoes　off　his　father's　feet。　He　remembered　the　feet　so　clearly；　he　said。　They　were　blue；　bloated；　and　cold　as　ice。　It　took　him　a　half　hour　to　get　the　shoes　off。　He　told　me　once　that　those　items　of　clothing　saved　him　from　freezing　to　death；　but　they　couldn't　stop　him　from　remembering。　He　was　eleven　years　old　when　that　happened。〃
　〃Poor　fellow；〃　Mars　said。　〃But　he　had　his　whole　life　ahead　of　him。〃
　〃I　think　a　part　of　him　died　on　the　Siberian　ice　fields　with　his　parents；〃　Irina　said。
　〃He　was　to　be　pitied；　then。〃
　Irina　tried　not　to　think。　She　could　hear　a　voice　calling；　she　knew　what　it　was　saying；　but　she　didn't　want　to　listen：　KGB。　Keep　calm。　The　Siberian　winter；　bars　across　the　moon；　her　country　a　prison。　He's　dead。
　〃Perhaps　it　all　would　have　been　different　if　my　brother　Yvgeny　hadn't　died；〃　Irina　said；　not　believing　a　word　of　it；　and　despising　herself　for　dissembling。　〃He　was　killed　not　so　far　from　here；　on　the　bank　of　the　Moskva；　on　a　cold；　clear　night；　a　night　of　the　full　moon。　He　had　fallen　in　with　criminals；　and　he　was　selling…　well；　I　don't　know　what；　contraband　of　some　kind；　surely。　He　was　knifed；　but　whether　by　a　potential　customer　or　by　a　rival；　we　never　found　out。　Considering　what　my　brother　was　up　to；　the　police　were　understandably　resistant　to　spending　man…hours　tracking　down　his　killer。　Frankly；　they　just　didn't　care。　I　got　the　impression　they　were　glad　he　was　dead。''
　〃And　the　family？〃
　〃Our　family　was　so　fragile　anyway；　the　relationships　so　close　to　cracking。　My　father　had　already　been　dead　for　many　years。　I　think；　now；　that　it　wouldn't　have　taken　much　at　all　to　send　us　spiraling　down。　But　his；　Yvgeny's；　murder　was　like　a　detonation　in　our　kitchen；　our　place　of　warmth　and　sustenance；　the　place　I　remember　my　mother　always　being；　until　the　police　brought　us　the　news。　She　disintegrated。　She　ran　out　into　the　night　without　a　coat　or　a　care　for　herself。　She　beat　her　breast；　tore　her　hair；　and；　on　the　spot　where　they　had　found　Yvgeny　sprawled　with　the　knife　still　between　his　ribs；　she　wailed　for　her　son。　I　remember　dragging　her　away　from　there。　She　was　hysterical；　screaming　invectives　I　never　suspected　she　knew。　I　think　she　tried　to　bite　me。　At　that　moment；　I　don't　believe　she　knew　who　I　was。〃
　Mars　allowed　a　silence　to　close　over　them。　The　boisterous　sounds　of　the　restaurant　seemed　abruptly　at　odds　with　their　own　tiny　world；　and　Irina　found　herself　wanting　to　scream。　Shut　up！　Shut　up！　Why　are　you　all　so　happy？
　At　last　Mars　said；　〃Is　she　still　alive？〃
　〃Only　after　a　fashion；〃　Irina　said。
　〃I'm　sorry。〃　He　took　her　hand；　stroked　it　with　his　thumb。　〃But　words　are　so　inadequate　sometimes；　aren't　they？〃
　Irina　looked　into　his　eyes；　aware　of　some　subtle　difference。　It　was　like　walking　into　a　garden　one　had　known　all　one's　life；　and　finding　that　one　rock　had　been　shifted　ever　so　slightly；　but　that　this　alteration　had　in　some　magical　way　transformed　the　aspect　of　the　entire　garden。
　She　said；　〃Sometimes　nothing　more　is　needed　than　being　there。〃　Something　had　changed　in　her　relationship　with　Mars。　But　what　was　it？
　The　following　Saturday；　Mars　asked　her　to　go　with　him　to　visit　his　parents。　Irina　agreed；　although　she　did　not　really　know　why。　She　suspected　that　she　would　be　bored。
　As　it　turned　out；　she　was　wrong。　Mars's　parents　lived　in　a　beautiful　old　cream…colored　house　on　Bolshaya　Ordynka　Street。　Its　front　was　shaded　with　lime　trees。　It　was　quite　near　the　350…year…old　Church　of　St。　Nicholas　of　Pyzhi；　whose　architecture　was　so　Eastern　baroque；　it　reminded　Irina　of　a　wedding　cake。
　Mars's　mother　and　father　were　wonderful　people；　warm　and　full　of　love　for　one　another。　Irina　watched　them　covertly；　almost　shyly。　And　although　they　looked　at　each　other　or　touched　only　rarely；　they　seemed　always　aware　of　one　another's　presence。
　They　loved　the　special　foods　she　and　Mars　had　brought；　and　Mars　went　out　of　his　way　to　say　that　the　Nova　Scotia　salmon　was　a　special　gift　from　Irina　herself；　Irina　helped　Mars's　mother　in　the　kitchen；　and　found　that　they　had　an　easy　and　almost　instantaneous　rapport　that　stemmed　from　cooking。　They　shared　suggestions；　then　little　secrets　they　had　learned。　They　laughed　together。
　Near　to　dinnertime；　Mars's　sister　and　her　family　arrived。　She　looked　like　Mars；　and　was　very　beautiful。　But　she　seemed　shy；　and　when　Irina　at　length　arranged　to　talk　with　her；　confessed　to　being　unhappy　with　her　thick…waisted；　heavy…legged　body。　〃I　am　just　what　the　American　magazines　portray　Russian　women　to　be　like；〃　she　said　with　a　sigh。
　Her　children…two　boys　and　a　girl…were　well…behaved；　and　they　obviously　adored　their　grandfather；　who　played　games　with　them　and　loved　tricking　them；　then　telling　them　how　he　did　so。　Often；　there　were　gales　of　laughter。
　The　children's　father；　Mars's　brother…in…law；　worked　as　an　architect。　Mostly；　he　said；　he　drew　up　plans　for　concrete　housing　developments；　which　Irina　privately　thought　must　be　the　height　of　boredom；　like　driving　a　bus　back　and　forth　along　the　same　route　all　day　long。　He　was　an　altogether　ordinary…looking　fellow；　whose　face　was　transformed　when　he　watched　his　children。
　Gradually；　as　the　afternoon　turned　into　evening；　and　as　the　evening　became　night；　Irina　found　herself　sinking　into　the　warmth　and　homeyness　of　this　family's　life；　with　the　kind　of　bliss　one　feels　when　lying　back　on　an　eiderdown　pillow。　For　the　first　time　in　quite　a　while；　she　found　herself　relaxed。　And　then；　with　an　electric　tingle；　she　knew　there　was　more　to　it　than　that：
she　was　content。
　At　that　moment　Irina　looked　across　the　room　at　Mars　Petrovich　Volkov　in　an　entirely　different　light。　So　what　that　the　physical　part　of　our　relationship　doesn't　quite　connect？　she　thought。　He　has　so　much　more　to　give　me。　He　can　share　with　me　what　I've　always　wanted。　With　him　I　can　be　part　of　a　family。
　Kasumigaseki；　the　downtown　Tokyo　district　where　Honno　worked；　meant　〃Shrouded　Gate；〃　Big　Ezoe　was　familiar　with　Kasumigaseki；　though　not　in　the　ways　Honno　was。　He　showed　her　places　within　the　district　she　otherwise　would　never　have　guessed　existed。
　Being　in　Kasumigaseki　was　the　equivalent　of　living　underwater。　The　light…what　there　was　of　it　seeping　through　the　steel　and　glass　skyscrapers…had　that　aqueous　quality　that　skin　divers　know　well；　and　which　can　be　approximated　by　peering　through　the　bottom　of　a　green　glass　bottle。
　Big　Ezoe　had　said；　〃Kakuei　Sakata　was　a　samurai；　so　you　and　I　must　begin　to　think　like　samurai。　If　we　cannot　put　ourselves　in　Sakata's　mind；　we　will　never　solve　me　riddle　he　has　left　you。〃
　Big　Ezoe　had　turned　the　key　Sakata　had　sent　to　Honno　over　and　over　in　his　hand。　〃A　businessman　would　have　a　safety　deposit　box　in　a　bank。　A　Yakuza　would　have　a　lock　box　buried　beneath　the　tatami　in　his　bedroom。　What　would　a　samurai　have　to　keep　his　most　valuable　possessions　safe？〃　
　Honno　had　looked　at　him。　〃I　don't　know。〃　
　Big　Ezoe　had　grinned　at　her。　〃But　I　think　I　do。〃　
　And　so　he　had　led　her　back　to　the　heart　of　the　metropolis；　to　Kasumigaseki；　the　Shrouded　Gate。　They　were　consumed　by　modern　Tokyo。　There　was　industrial　grit　beneath　the　soles　of　their　shoes；　the　exhaust　of　a　ha