Читать книгу Fly Hunter: The Story of an Inquisitor онлайн

Aman-Jalil arrived and went to work the next day.

Seeing Gulshan, he snapped:

– Started drinking?.. I'll beat you!

Gulshan burst into tears. All the pain and resentment, all the horror she had endured spilled out and flooded the room. Aman-Jalil recoiled from this outpouring and shut himself in his office. After a while, he summoned Gulshan to him.

– Everything remains the same for us. Don't be upset!.. Remember: we have a son! What happened to you?

– The old man died.

– I know, they told me… It's all for the best. I never figured out how to tell him that his son has been dead for a year…

– And you knew about it? – Gulshan was horrified by the coincidence.

– An agreement was made, but I simply didn't have time to help his son: he fled the island, tried to swim across the ocean strait, and was torn apart by sharks; they specifically breed them there, feeding them the bodies of prisoners.

– And you kept silent? – Gulshan stared at him in fear.

– Am I a fool to miss out on such a benefit? Something came your way too, I did it for you. And the old man lived another year, married a young woman, what's wrong with that?…

– His death is on me!

– Forget about it! One less person on earth, one more… "You can't make an omelet without breaking eggs!" There are plenty of people.

Gulshan was about to leave the office but stopped at the door and said:

– There's more! The driver is making lewd propositions. Yesterday, I had to beat his face with a stick; he almost raped me.

– Almost or did he? – Aman-Jalil smirked. – Just kidding, don't get mad, almost doesn't count. Don't worry, I'll cool him off.

Gulshan left the office, and Aman-Jalil took a powerful Zeiss binocular from his desk and started looking toward the garage in the courtyard of the inquisition. A group of drivers, gathered around one of the cars, were "killing time," telling jokes, smoking hash, and gossiping about their bosses. All these conversations eventually landed in recordings on Aman-Jalil's desk; sometimes, even a minor detail could spark a serious case. Aman-Jalil's driver, showing off his new gold teeth replacing his knocked-out ones, laughed and joked more than anyone. His eyes were hidden behind large black sunglasses, making him look like an Italian mafioso. Aman-Jalil watched him for a long time, pondering what to do with this scoundrel, then called his assistant, showed him the driver through the binoculars, and quietly whispered instructions. The assistant listened silently, nodding in agreement.