Читать книгу Fly Hunter: The Story of an Inquisitor онлайн

– Genius, boss! Your Excellency, such inventions deserve a Nobel Prize. Higher, eh! No hospitals, no funeral team…

– Why haven't you taken the scoundrel yet? – Arif was surprised.

– Ahmed's wife's relative.

– Which number?

– It's complicated, your opinion will free Ahmed's hands.

– I see, the old fighter has softened, got mired in domesticity, softened by women's tears… Yes, you haven't forgotten? – he suddenly asked in a different tone and about something completely different.

– She'll be in bed with you at night.

Aman-Jalil almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation: he could, of course, find a replacement for Gulshan, especially since her face wasn't visible in the photos left in Sardar Ali's room, but Aman-Jalil didn't want to risk over such a "trifle." If he married a pregnant virgin, Ahmed's daughter, Gulshan wouldn't stop his progress to the tower. True, she might resist and not go to bed with Arif, she had already led the young driver to bullets, but Aman-Jalil had already devised a plan based on information about how Arif behaves in bed: he attacks like a beast on a lying victim and likes the victim to lie submissively and calmly, not twitching, and once sated, he turns his back to her and immediately falls asleep, waking up early in the morning and leaving to work in his office, forgetting about the partner.

– Everything will be fine! – he repeated unexpectedly firmly and harshly, crossing the final line separating him from his desired goal, and with it, crossing the line separating light from darkness. From now on, he was lost to goodness…

– Good! – Arif unexpectedly agreed. – I'll give you these two hours, but make sure there are no traces.

Aman-Jalil filled the streets around the theater with agents, but forbade them to enter the theater, so as not to arouse the slightest suspicion.

Three hours before the concert, Aman-Jalil remembered that Ayesha hadn’t called to inform him whether Kasym had taken the manuscript or not, and whether he would read it. Aman-Jalil rushed to the writer, alone, without security.