So what am I waiting for? Suites of Sunrise are around the corner.
Rain of cats and dogs bursted suddenly. Purring and growling like a voracious beast, spilling bubbles out. An alert? Damn it.
Lightning came to act, raging in fury. Thunder echoes in awesome growl… Damn it.
Wind, playing with a window, broke a glass.
Damn it!
Now the light went out. An edgy blow of signs? In pitch darkness a branch of tree began squeaking, ringing with the broken glass\' fragments.
Damn it!
What if Maestro is a myth? Someone\'s stupid joke?! Oh my God, his fuse is blown. As one had say : if Jupiter would punish he would deprive a man of reason .«For that reason I\'ve been appointed as stroke of fate to turn everything back to order. The mask of mercenary is merely a mask for the Carnival of life. Yet the essence of the brand is to lead the ball, you can\'t just pull the mask off. Yet. So much worse for those who forgot to pay. And the killer\'s mask dictates to careless: the work is done you must to pay! Didn\'t pay in three days – you\'ve got to wait! I\'ll take the payment myself. And not in Franklin\'s portraits but in life.
It\'s so funny. But after „evidence“ were sent to withholders they are ready to triple the return payment, to tenfold it. I\'ll be adamant. Money is not the key to happiness. Dura lex sed lex… The rest of them will learn the lesson …
Hmm … There is one problem: experiments with energy field are more dangerous than playing with a dynamite. The hand involuntarily passed by a bandage on the right eye, powerlessly stroke a chin and beard brushed up again. – damn fraught, … fraught with consequences. But scepter of Maestro obliges.
Your move, Maestro of Resonance!»
Here comes the light! Just on time … Desperate gallop of the rain is getting stronger. In the book Ilya found the phone number of the Sunrise . Nodded to himself with a smile: no, he\'s not crazy. The suite and the room for bodyguards are ready. The driver of the Sunrise is on the way. A journalist\'s business card is lying around somewhere. Here it is! Should I pull it out? He got one meeting scheduled for that evening already, with Boris Batkin. However, let have an interview.
Trills of the phone broke the atmosphere of secrecy. Shadow of Holmes, crouched, vanished in thin air without a trace.
« Who is it?!» gasped Natalya into the phone. « Zvezditsky is talking? …»
«Yes» intercepted Arseny and immediately raised his fingers in V-sign. «Yes of course, we can. In Sunrise suite? Sure. Me and Boris, we will be there exactly one in hour.»
Boris jumped up. With a quiet triumph Arseny looked down onto his silent team.
Prediction of Marmarov was left forgotten.
For the time being.
White tiled bathroom sparkling.
Glare of light invites to descent into the water.
Completely nude, Ilya starred at the mirror: where did the southern macho go? Pale skin, detached gaze goes «inwards». Suddenly he spotted a bloody trail of single shoe in the mirror reflection. Where did came from? He wiggled toes of his bare feet. Turned around and came across the bottle of perfume. The same one! With hint of bergamot. Almost empty, but few drops he can shake out: three for the water and one for his temple. Hmm. Bliss … And here is the razor for a callus on his feet. But what if … a callus is in the heart?
«Sure!» Ilya yanked edge of his mouth. He\'ll cut it off.
So he quickly held a hand by his heart and fixed gaze in a reflection. Scarlet drops swelled under the left nipple and streamed down the body. An old razor hits ceramic floor.
Without a change of facial expression, he gently slipped into the bergamot-scented water.
«Such a bliss,» he squinted his eyes «So intoxicating like a wine. Wine?» He looked blank, the water suddenly turned red.
He and Inessa were dreaming about going to the Red Sea. And it came true … « Came True?! » the memory about Inessa has suddenly struck him down. He tried to climb out, to jump but alas: his head already was spinning around in the agonizing Waltz. The horror distorted his face: he got into the trap of Maestro!
Powerless, quiet moan had been killed by cold kiss of death, gently touched by a breath with hint of bergamot.Semigorsk, June 30, 2009.
«You never know where to find and where to lose» gagged Boris grimly. They were waiting for an exclusive, refreshment of the local press, but sensation was born. For the whole country:
Shock!
TV business has suffered the loss.
26 of June, in the Verhny Hutorok, near Semigorsk, Ilya Zvezditsky, a woman’s crumpet and V star, has passed away. He was in the prime of life and glory. What led him to a suicide? An unexpected illness? The loss of his beloved wife, Inessa? However, «A Blaze -2» is not to be released.
Boris Batkin,Specially for the «Russian Gazette».
The owner of Sunrise got some of Ilya\'s Fame as well.
At first it was a blow. But then …
Tour operators simply clutched their heads in consternation : all rooms were booked in one hoteclass="underline" Sunrise . Prices gave a slight increase to keep suites from overload. He raised capital only on reservations of that very room for the year ahead.
«Who is talking about crisis?» said owners of nearby spa-hotels rubbing their hands. This summer Verhny Hutorok sent back Courchevel to blur.
But before all that, leading mass media reporters swooped around. And dug, dug, dug… The facts were mixed with rumors. The rumors with versions. Well, love conquers all! Ilya couldn\'t handle parting with his better half and left for good… in good faith.
In resonance!
July 3, 2009
«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 the murder!»
«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 himself decided to end his life. Without anyone\'s help. Was out of his sense of course…»
«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 …»