I was searching for Marilyn the second day. At noon I called American Embassy and asked to connect me with for James Ford. I guessed Marilyn might live with him now. Also, according to nursery visitor’s book, James Ford had been at the dead man’s bed before me. Having heard his voice, I politely greeted him and said, “Marilyn's father is dead.”
“Really?”
“Does she know that? Where is she?”
“No idea.”
There was no use to talk with him anymore; so I went to the local police department, and at the table there wrote a statement about the missing person.
“Are you a husband?” asked me the sleepy officer at the duty.
“No.”
“Brother, relative, or you live together?” “No.” “Sorry, we accept such statements only from one’s relatives …show more content…
The guard who had flung the door open didn’t even take away his hand off the handle, and I saw his black uniform sleeve. He stood behind the doorway letting a woman out, slanting forward. So I just hit his sleeve to slacken his grip on the door-handle, then seized it and jerked the man out. The guard flew out of the door across the sidewalk and landed on a roadway. I jumped inside and locked the door. Anyway, they had no right to shut the doors on all the customers this way; even if the bank died they had at least answer properly to all the phone calls. Just to make sure the guard wasn’t run over by some car I peered through a peephole; he was alright, vainly pressing a switched-off buzzer at the door. Although he apparently had some phone, or could borrow one, he wouldn’t easily call his bank. I had at least ten minutes before they start searching me and certainly find me. These minutes I had to find the President’s office, get in and start talking with him, importantly enough, or at least in a way he would feel the danger, so I wouldn’t be thrown …show more content…
“My sincere condolences, man. Though, you may ask these two who’re coming. My partner Rebrov – met him? He knows all about poor clones. So just sit here, and I’ll get us some music.” Swaying, Levko climbed out of the table, clicked the audio-system, and the grim silence of the room was broken up by the words, “Three, seven, ace – oh, my, it’s the queen of spades!” That was famous area of aristocrat who had lost all he had in casino and gone crazy. “Do you like opera?” asked Levko, sitting back. “Just listen to these words. It’s about me, exactly. Yeah, great art …” I didn’t listen anymore to his drunken chatter, but I stayed. I had no idea or place to go looking for Marilyn, and Rebrov could indeed clear the matter, whatever trouble meeting with him could mean. Thus I had a chance to hear the casino area several more times. The “guests” arrived in half an hour. I heard their heavy steps along the corridors of silent bank before the door was swung open. “Here they are, my dear guests,” said Levko gripping his gun as though ready to put a bullet through his