“No, I am not,” answered Nina honestly. She was not opposed to religion, but she had never experienced any need for it.
“I used to be an infidel, too,” said Ignatiy Savelievich. “But with years, one comes to understand certain things… You have no use for that kind of stuff, though – you’re so young yet. Let’s talk about something else. Tell me – how are things in our nest of financial depravity?”
Nina told him what news there was. Then they had some tea made by means of an illegal immersion heater, and even played a game of chess. As she sat down to play, Nina was thinking of a polite way to give away the game, but that was not necessary as Ignatiy Savelievich smashed her to pieces.
It was time to say goodbye. Nina had never brought up her problems – it seemed out of place in the atmosphere of the hospital. But as she was rising, Ignatiy Savelievich took her by the hand and made her sit down again.
“Nina, I’m an old man, of course, and there are lots of things that I don’t understand, but still, don’t you hold me for an idiot. You came to talk about something with me, didn’t you? Then go ahead, spit it out.”
Nina blushed. “No, I just…”
“Come on, dear, don’t tarry,” urged the old man. “I am due for treatment in twenty minutes.”
Nina braced herself and told Ignatiy Savelievich about her father and his situation – in brief, leaving out the details.
“So that’s whose company you saved from bankruptcy?” guessed Ignatiy Savelievich. “Now, isn’t your father a lucky man to have such a daughter…”
Nina knew that Ignatiy Savelievich had a son, but the old man had mentioned once that they had not been on speaking terms and had hardly been seeing each other.
“Ignatiy Savelievich, please, can you advise me on a way to get rid of that Gradstroiinvest pest?”
Ignatiy Savelievich shook his head, “Most likely, there is no way.” Seeing a dejected look on Nina’s face, he patted her hand but did not say anything to reassure her. “As far as I know Gradbank’s manner of doing business, they always get what they go after.”
He promised to make some inquiries and to think of some useful tips for Nina.
“I’m no longer in business, of course, but I do have a phone, and some of my connections are still there, so… I’ll see what I can do. And you, dear, are an angel for visiting an invalid. Come on, give me your pretty cheek.”
And he gave her another peck.
A week later Ignatiy Savelievich called Nina and asked her to visit him again – this time, at his home address rather than in the hospital from which he had been discharged. “Only, dear, excuse me, I won’t be inviting you in. My humble abode is in such neglect that I really can’t receive anybody. Let’s have a walk outside, if you don’t mind.”
They agreed to meet in the yard by his house. When Nina arrived, she found her colleague waiting for her on a bench, in a sheepskin and thick felt boots. The house was a solid brick affair, yellow-pinkish in color, located in a quiet side street in the city center. A quarter of a century ago, when Ignatiy Savelievich had been at the height of his career, apartments in such buildings had been given to the members of the top bureaucracy.
The weather was calm, with a temperature a little below zero, fuzzy flakes of snow falling quietly.
“Ah, here you are!” Ignatiy Savelievich cried out. “I’m glad you made it. A sly old man as I am, I’m going to exploit you. Give me your hand to lean on, dear, and we’ll have a walk. I’m not going out alone these days, you know, for fear of falling. You have no idea how many old people take a fall in the street in winter, and with nasty consequences, too. There are two such cases in my section of the house alone. That’s city for you – asphalt, icy walkways… Now, I remember that back in my home village – I’m a village boy, dear, – there were snow drifts as high as the roof in winter. You could fall all you liked…”
They crossed a street and went out to a frozen pond around which occasional mothers with prams were walking.
Nina could not wait to hear the news, but Ignatiy Savelievich asked her first to tell him about her problem again. It had not been Nina’s intention to go into details but little by little she told him everything – about Simonyan, Misha Permyak, and the debts of her father’s company.
Ignatiy Savelievich listened carefully.
“I see… You’ve really gone through a lot, dear,” he commented when she had spilled it all out. “To think of the things that girls have to deal with nowadays. One hell of a time, this is… And you did well, Nina, really, you did.” The old man looked at her with respect. “Well, now you listen to me.”
And he told her what he had found out.
Nina learned a lot about Gradstroiinvest. As it turned out, the business was actually run by Konstantin, while the director was a nominal figure representing the board of Gradbank. Over the past year, Gradstroiinvest had swallowed up three companies similar to that of Nina’s father. In each case, the terms were generous and, eventually, fulfilled to the letter, which was rather exceptional of deals like that. Thus, there was no reason to doubt the solvency or integrity of the Gradstroiinvest management.
“The Gradstroiinvest boys are not the main problem though,” said Ignatiy Savelievich. “It could be possible to keep them at bay, but they are backed by Gradbank and its director Samsonov.”
“What’s so terrible about that Samsonov? What is he – a bogeyman?” asked Nina vexedly.
“For those who stand in his way, he is,” Ignatiy Savelievich replied earnestly. “He has bulldozed much larger companies without turning a hair.”
“But why my father? What did he do?” Nina cried out.
“You’re culpable already for my being hungry,” Ignatiy Savelievich cited a line from a fable by Krylov. “The only fault of your father, Nina, is that he has reared a fine civil engineering company which the big guys have noticed and decided to lay their hands on.”
According to the information obtained by Ignatiy Savelievich, the management of Gradbank had set the goal of acquiring, through its subsidiaries, twenty five percent of all the municipal services and civil engineering business in the city. Nobody knew exactly what the purpose of that was.
“Maybe that consolidated piece of the pie will then be sold at a profit or exchanged for something really big,” suggested Ignatiy Savelievich.
The plan was being put to practice rapidly, but Samsonov, still dissatisfied, was spurring on his men.
“A month ago Samsonov held a conference on that with the directors of the subsidiaries. From what I hear, he yelled at those directors so that the windowpanes jingled. By the way, your father’s company could have been mentioned there, too. Is his name Shuvalov?”
“No… His name is Kisel,” Nina said after some hesitation.
“Yes, right!” exclaimed Ignatiy Savelievich. “Forgive me, Nina, you’re not going to like it, but you need to hear that.”
From an account by one of his informers, he told Nina about an incident that occurred at the meeting. In the middle of his roaring at his subordinates, Samsonov’s eye was caught by the file of the company owned by Nina’s father.
“Kisel… What kisel?” asked Samsonov.
They told him that it was the name of the owner.
“Great! I like it,” said Samsonov. “Very symbolic. All these petty businesses are kisel that we need to eat up. And quick.” He banged his hand on a pile of like files. “If we don’t get a move on, we’ll become kisel for other eaters. Is that clear?”
The directors kept silent. It was clear to them that if they failed to speed up the acquisitions, it was them who Samsonov would turn into kisel.