“Now I’m feeling like an irritable old woman who sees from her window the wife of a fugitive hiding from a charge of armed rob-bery. I should make calls, ask if she is using her real name, let the police take over. But what do I do? I decide to watch her, wait for her fugitive husband to appear, then call Porfiry Petrovich. The hero in the window.”
“Like Rear Window, ” said Elena.
“What is Rear Window? ” asked Anna Timofeyeva.
“A movie about what you are doing,” said Elena. “The man watching is almost murdered by the killer.”
“Was he a policeman?” asked Anna.
“The killer?” said Elena, hiding a smile.
“The man watching,” said Anna.
“No, a photographer.”
“That explains it. Come, look.”
Iosef and Elena went to the window. The curtains were drawn back as they were always during the day. In the large concrete courtyard, children played, chasing each other, riding tricycles, hiding behind the concrete blocks that were supposed to be decorative.
Five young women sat on the concrete seat with a concrete table between them. The sky promised rain, but it had for almost a week and had not delivered.
“The one with the baby,” said Anna. “Her child is the little blond boy chasing the girl.”
“He’s cute,” said Elena.
Elena stood up, wincing. Bending to look out the window had brought blood rushing painfully to her wound, which began to THE DOG WHO BIT A POLICEMANNN251
throb. She would have to take one of the pills Sarah Rostnikov’s cousin had given her.
“He is presentable,” Anna went on, changing quickly into the deputy procurator she had once been. The transformation was dramatic. The block of a woman who had begun her career as a factory worker and loyal Communist who believed in the revolution was now sitting up. Her voice had grown stronger, deeper, official.
“The woman is using the name Rosa Dotiom. Her real name is Rosa Dodropov. Her husband is Sergei Dodropov. Two years ago he robbed a bank. He was positively identified. He got away with lots of money. No one knows how much. The bank lied. The money was illegal business money from gangsters. He is wanted by the police. He is wanted by the bankers, who are afraid he will be caught and talk. He will come back here. She is waiting for him.
See, she waits.”
“How can you tell?” asked Iosef, who was still looking out the window.
“By how often she glances around in anticipation,” said Anna.
“It is not a look of fear. It is a look of hope. She has been looking like that for more than a week. He will show up soon. Do you want to be the one to call or should I?”
“Call my father, Anna Timofeyeva.”
“You believe me?”
“I have been taught by my father that you were a great procurator, one who did not act rashly.”
“Good,” she said. “But I’ll give you a demonstration of my training. You are angry, Iosef, very angry. And you are nervous and determined.”
“Yes,” said Iosef.
“You realize, Elena, I have just done more talking and shown more emotion that I believe I have done in the rest of my adult life.”
“Yes,” said Elena.
Anna looked down at the cat, which may have been asleep in her lap. Anna sighed.
“You want privacy?” she said.
“Well. .” Iosef began.
Baku awakened as Anna rose.
“I am required to take a nap,” Anna said. “I do not like wasting the time, but I cannot avoid it. Give my regards to your father.”
Anna stood straight and walked without any hint of her problem to the bedroom, where she closed the door behind her.
Elena moved back to the window and looked out.
“She has me doing it,” said Elena with a smile. “I feel I have to take her place on the vigil.”
“You are really all right?” he asked.
“I will be fine,” she said. “I will be in pain for an undetermined period of time, but I will then be fine.”
“Elena,” he said, “I don’t have much time and I don’t know why I am doing this again now. It is probably not a good time. Maybe it is my fear of losing you.”
“I am not yours to lose,” she said, standing straight and facing him.
“But I would like you to be,” he said.
“You are proposing again.”
“I am proposing again.”
“It is not a good idea,” Elena said. “You will worry about me on the job, and I will worry about you, and I will worry about you worrying about me, and. . you see?”
“I worry about you now,” he said.
“Then I will accept your proposal,” she said.
“You will?”
“You expected rejection again,” she said, stepping in front of him.
“Yes,” he said. “I don’t know how to react to acceptance.”
“Start by very gently kissing me and avoiding contact with my arm,” she said. “And continue by taking a seat, so we can discuss what this means.”
Iosef was dazed. Elena came into his arms and he was very careful as he kissed her. It was a long, open kiss that Iosef did not want to end.
Elena sat in her aunt’s chair. Iosef sat across from her in the chair that visitors were often directed to.
“You’re not on some pain medication that is causing this reaction? You are not going to change your mind in a day or two?”
“No, Iosef, I will not. But there are things I must tell you about my past, about. .”
“And I have things too,” he said. “Unless you must, I would prefer that you tell me nothing about you that would cause either of us pain.”
“And you do the same,” she said, reaching forward to touch his hand.
“And I will do the same,” he said.
“Do you believe in signs?” Elena went on.
“Mysticism?” he said, adding perplexity to his emotions of the moment. “God? ESP?”
“Perhaps,” she said, looking out the window again.
“Not really,” he said.
“Look out the window, Iosef,” Elena said. “Less than a minute after you propose and I accept, Aunt Anna’s bank robber appears.
It is a sign for policemen.”
Iosef leaned over to look out the window. A small blond boy was running toward a young man who stood next to one of the concrete blocks that surrounded the courtyard. The woman Anna had been watching said something to the other women and got up.
“I’ll call for backup,” he said, picking up the phone. “Elena, I love you.”
“I’ll lose some weight,” she said.
“No,” he said, “don’t. You are beautiful as you are and. . this is Inspector Rostnikov. . no, the other one. I need backup, quickly.”
Elena and Iosef smiled at each other. Iosef ’s anger was gone, the Pleshkov situation of minor interest compared to the beauty of this moment.
He hung up the phone.
“They’ll be here soon,” he said.
“Meanwhile,” she said, “we can watch and talk. We have plans to make.”
It was dangerous. It was stupid, but Sasha was frantic. When the meeting with the Frenchmen was over, hands were shaken, drinks downed, and talk was almost nonexistent.
“At some point, if we are to work together,” said the rugged youngest man, “you will both have to learn a little French, come visit us in Marseilles.”
“I am very bad with languages,” said Sasha.
“And I am not interested in any language but the one of my people,” said Nimitsov.
More amiable silence. A few toasts to the future. The old men showed nothing.
When the rugged Frenchman looked at his watch and said,
“Time to go,” Sasha followed Boris and Nimitsov into the entry hall. The door closed behind them.
“I have to make a call,” said Sasha.
“No time,” said Peter Nimitsov.
“There’s plenty of time,” said Sasha.
“Who are you calling?” asked Nimitsov.
“A woman,” said Sasha, flashing a huge false and leering smile.
“No time,” Nimitsov repeated. “We must get back, prepare.”