21

Victor expounded on tattoos in the cafe at Yaroslavl Station. He touched the screen on Arkady's phone and enlarged the picture as he went.

"Think of a criminal's tattoos as a painting by the School of Rubens, a painting done by different hands at different times, with sections or faces added or obscured, some areas left blank in anticipation of notable events or cramped by bad planning.

"Let's begin with the Madonna and Child. This domestic scene tells us that Dopey was not born to a family of the bourgeoisie but to a family of honest criminals. The tattooing is primitive, although the faces were retouched later. The cat tattoos celebrate an early career as a burglar, and you can imagine from the spryness of these cats how a dwarf can get into all sorts of spaces.

"As he gets older and heavier, he graduates to murder. Three tears for three victims, as if he gave a fuck. He's been imprisoned four times. The barbs on barbed wire tell you how many years. The spiderweb on his shoulder means he's addicted, probably to heroin, because there is a surreal quality to the web reminiscent of Dali."

There was a new vigor to Victor, Arkady thought. For a man who should be struggling with the DTs, he looked surprisingly hale.

"You can trust a criminal's hide more than a banker's business card. The card says he has offices in Moscow, London and Hong Kong even though he's never been further than Minsk. But when a convict wears a tattoo for a crime he hasn't honestly committed, other cons will tattoo 'Liar' right across his face."

"It's good to know there is integrity somewhere in the world."

"The old cachet isn't there. Now every housewife has a tattoo on her ass. Nobody behind bars is satisfied with homemade ink when their girlfriends are trotting around on the outside with their pants half off and a tat that glows in the dark." He broke off to ask, "Worried?"

"They have to send me a letter of suspension and a letter of dismissal. Zurin only sent one."

"You're sure? Anyway, I can't believe that I'm with the man who killed Dopey the Dwarf. Does a curse come with that?"

"Probably," Arkady agreed.

"Don't worry about it. You are so fucked a curse would be superfluous."

Victor ducked out before the bill came. Arkady asked the waiter if he had ever noticed a boy hustle chess in the station.

The waiter leaned in thought.

"A thin boy?"

"Yes. Named Zhenya."

"I don't know about any Zhenya. This one's called 'Genius.'"

"That's close enough."

"He's in and out of the station all the time."

"Has he been in today?"

"No. He might be taking a day off. He had a big bust-up with his girlfriend last night. Right here."

Arkady wasn't sure he heard right. "A girlfriend?"

"A beauty queen."

"He has a beautiful girlfriend?"

"With a shaved head."

"With a shaved head, no less?" The Zhenya that Arkady knew did not hang out with such a trendy crowd. In fact, he hung out with no one at all. "I think we're talking about two different people."

The waiter shrugged.

"A shame. She was special but, like I say, a bitch."

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