Читать книгу Fly Hunter: The Story of an Inquisitor онлайн

– Thank you, teacher! – only Aman-Jalil found to say.

Perplexed, he left and couldn't work for a whole day because of excitement, – amused: he took out of a box made of rubber, where winter take, glued them in different places, walked, trained, knocked down with a rubber band, then tied several "flies" to the fan, turned it on, the flow of air spun "flies", and Aman-Jalil shot them "on the fly".

But the confiscation and ruin machine worked, once launched, already independently.

…Aman-Jalil tried to kiss Gulshan, but she sharply and dissatisfied pushed away.

– It's hard to explain to you, even I don't understand.

– What to understand? The child must have a father, and you will be his, or I will go to your boss, remember, I'm still a minor, and I'll tell him everything.

Aman-Jalil laughed, just laughed.

– You're a beauty! – he moaned between fits of laughter. – Parroting your mother's words like a parrot, while you – a gazelle, a doe, a roe deer, should be yourself: timid, graceful, tender. Look at the words you've learned, picked up from that one prisoner, passing on his knowledge to me every day, very smart, a great philosopher, a professor… And here you are talking like a market vendor from the central market. Shame on you!

– Me, ashamed? – protested Gulshan and… burst into tears, wiping them away childishly with her fist. – Who invited you, damned one, came, disgraced, doesn't want to marry and still lectures me.

Ignoring her tears, Aman-Jalil opened the safe and took out the photographs. Gulshan continued to sob.

– Stop crying, enough. Look at these pictures, they're real.

Aman-Jalil threw the photographs on the table in front of Gulshan, then moved to the window. He had admired the photographs so many times that he knew them by heart: all showed Gulshan, naked and in poses she, he was sure, had no idea about… Only one showed her naked partner – Sardar Kareem.

Outside, snow was falling, and rare passers-by hurried to leave the inhospitable, drafty street… Behind Aman-Jalil, there was the sound of a falling body. Aman-Jalil turned in fright and rushed to Gulshan. She lay on the carpet, holding in her hand that very last photograph. Aman-Jalil began to kiss her, trying to bring her to her senses, and then, almost without undressing, greedily took possession of her. His convulsions or the weight of his body brought Gulshan to consciousness. Seeing his face so close above her, she whispered quietly, not fully aware of what was happening: