Madness Treads Lightly

EPILOGUE

“Regina Valentinovna, you may find the question I’m going to ask difficult. How did you manage to jump right back into work after suffering such grief?”

The TV reporter, a young man with a beard, looked at Regina with his light gray, slightly squinty eyes. Written on his face was sincere sympathy.

“What else can I do?” Regina smiled sadly. “Veniamin Productions is my life. My child, if you like. Veniamin Borisovich’s and my child. It would be a betrayal to stop now without completing the projects my husband started.”

“Your next project. I’ve heard it’s going to be big, a major revolution in the world of pop music.”

Lena poured tea in the cups. Seryozha and Misha Sichkin were sitting at the kitchen table.

Liza ran in and climbed into her papa’s lap.

“Mama, may I have some tea?” she said. “I want it with lemon. Is it going to be Nighty Night soon?”

“Soon, Liza, soon,” Lena answered, and she got out another cup, still looking at the television.

“Well, let’s not get carried away,” Regina smiled into the camera again, this time a little embarrassed. “It’s just that Veniamin Borisovich had fresh, vivid ideas. And this one is his last. Unfortunately.”

“No, I can’t anymore!” Misha Sichkin couldn’t stand it. He stood up and switched channels.

It was a cheerful old comedy.

“Uncle Misha! What are you doing?” Liza was indignant. “Nighty Night’s coming on soon!”

“Not right away, little one.” Lena cut a slice of lemon and put it in Liza’s tea. “In about fifteen minutes.”

“I can’t believe there’s nothing we can do! I can’t believe it,” Misha said through his teeth.

“Why are you getting so worked up again?” Seryozha shook his head. “We can’t prove anything. It’s impossible! Forensics did everything they could, the works. There was no trace of poison. Acute cardiac insufficiency. According to the experts, Veniamin Volkov died a nonviolent death.”

“But she did poison Volkov.” Misha wouldn’t let up.

“Of course she did.” Seryozha nodded. “But she used a poison that doesn’t leave any traces, and that means no evidence.”

“To hell with evidence!” Misha was nearly shouting. He couldn’t calm down. “What about Nikita Slepak? Mitya and Katya Sinitsyn? Azarov? And the stroller bomb? I would… I would pay a hitman myself, word of honor! I’d kill her with my own two hands!”

“Uncle Misha,” Liza said sternly. “What are you saying? You shouldn’t kill anyone! Do you understand? It’s time for Nighty Night!”

In the South, on the Black Sea, in the dim living room of his own three-story house, Vladimir Mikhailovich Kudryashev—Curly, the boss of the taiga—sat staring at the television screen.

“You outwitted me, Regina,” he said pensively, devouring the beautiful, chiseled face on the screen with his eyes. “Business above all else for you. You needed Volkov, so you got him out of a sure death sentence. When he got in your way, you finished him off, even though he was your husband. I never expected that of you. I thought this was it, you weren’t going to wiggle out of this one. But you did. Respect!”

Nina approached silently, sat down on the floor by the boss’s feet, and lay her light brown head in his lap.

The long black Lincoln, its windows mirrored, embarked silently from its designated parking spot next to the Ostankino Television Center.

“Well, Anton, I think the live broadcast went pretty well.” Regina leaned back in the soft seat and closed her eyes.

Anton Konovalov tenderly kissed her cold, soft cheek.

“Yes, Regina. You looked stunning. I saw you on the monitors. The cameraman didn’t even have to choose his angles. You’re beautiful no matter how they shoot you!”

“I’m not talking about that, child.” Regina frowned.

“What then?”

She didn’t deign to respond.

A small, dirty Zhiguli kept tightly on the Lincoln’s tail. The lights from oncoming cars occasionally picked out the face of the man behind the wheel: deeply pitted cheeks and strangely light, almost-white eyes under bare, eyebrow-less brows.

Vasya Slepak was preparing to do his usual job. Not for hire. And not for money.

This was personal.