Читать книгу Fly Hunter: The Story of an Inquisitor онлайн

The writer, seeing him, paled, but tried to appear as a gracious host.

– What an honor! Such a guest brings joy to the house! Come in, dear Aman-Jalil…

– Why didn't you call me: did Kasym get the manuscript or not… I hope you gave it to him?

– You see, dear Aman-Jalil, I felt uncomfortable imposing my work on a famous actor. I asked his friend, the famous director Bulov, to give him my story. He handed it over.

– Call Kasym, ask, fool, couldn’t you have thought of that before. Trust, but verify!

Ayesha, now as anxious as Aman-Jalil, feverishly dialed Kasym’s number. He was at home, preparing for the concert.

– Dear Kasym, sorry to bother you, you’re probably preparing for the concert, I keep forgetting to ask if Bulov gave you my story?.. What, no! He told me he did, maybe you forgot?

Ayesha slowly put down the phone and started mumbling incoherently. Aman-Jalil slapped him to bring him to his senses.

– He didn't get the story?

The writer's dead look spoke more than words. Aman-Jalil knocked Ayesha down with a punch to the stomach and pulled out a Walther. Seeing the gun, Ayesha wet himself in fear, sobbing and groveling at Aman-Jalil’s feet. Aman-Jalil wanted to shoot him but a brilliant idea struck him at the last moment.

– I can always shoot him later, – he thought. – I need to salvage the situation.

After relishing the writer's terror for another minute, he ordered:

– Get up, scum. Quickly wash up, change clothes, you reek of piss like an old mule.

Ten minutes later, Ayesha was unrecognizable. When he came out of the bathroom, he smelled of French cologne. Another two minutes to dress in a formal suit.

– Take a second copy of the story, go to the theater, – Aman-Jalil instructed. – By any means, you must make Kasym read this story today. Or tomorrow you won’t see freedom, or even light.

Ayesha looked at him with slavishly devoted eyes and agreed to everything.

The terrified writer rushed to the theater by taxi. There were no strangers in Kasym’s dressing room, and his wife had stepped out. Ayesha boldly handed the manuscript to Kasym.