Chapter 10 Chapter 10 Yalta Emergency Telegram

At the same moment when Nikanor Ivanovich's misfortune happened, two people were sitting in the office of financial assistant Rimsky in the Vallett Theater on the same Garden Street, not far from Building No. 302 B. : Rimsky himself and Varenukha, General Manager of the theater. It is a spacious office on the second floor of the theatre, with two windows facing the Garden Street, and the other, behind the financial assistant sitting at the table, looking out onto the Valette summer garden with the cold drinks department. , a small shooting range and an open-air stage.In addition to the desk, there is a small table in the office with a long-necked glass bottle of water on it, some old posters on the wall next to it, four chairs on the other side, and a wooden shelf in the corner with dusty old set model.In addition, it goes without saying that there is a small safe with peeling varnish and is rather old, which stands to the left of Rimsky's desk.

Rimsky sat at his desk, feeling awkward since early in the morning.On the contrary, Varenukha was very excited, as if he was ready to show his skills, but he couldn't find the place to use them.He was now in the treasurer's office dodging people who were chasing him for free tickets, and they kept making trouble for him, especially a day or two before each show change.That's it for today. As soon as the phone on the desk rang, Varenukha grabbed the receiver and lied: "Whom? Varenukha? Not here. Out on errands." "Excuse me, please call Likhodeyev again!" Rimsky asked Varenukha excitedly.

"He's not at home. I sent Karpov, and there's no one in his house." "Ghost knows what's going on!" muttered Rimsky, making the computer next to him click and click. The door opened, and the ticket inspector dragged in a large bundle of supplementary posters that had just been printed.The poster is printed on green paper with large red characters on it, which reads: Vallett Theater from today Added to the original program list: magic show and reveal its full story Performer: Professor Wallander Varenukha took out a poster and put it on the set model, took a few steps back, admired it from a distance for a while, and then ordered the ticket inspector to put up all the posters immediately.

"Very good, very eye-catching." After the ticket inspector left, Varenukha said. "But I don't like his stuff very much," muttered Rimsky, looking at the poster viciously through horn-rimmed glasses. "How could he be allowed to play these things, strange!" "No, Grigory Danilovitch, don't say that, it's a very good move. The essence lies in revealing the inside story of the magic trick." "I don't understand, I don't understand. I don't see the essence of it here, he just likes to fantasize! If only we could meet the magician first. Have you seen it? God knows Likhodeyev." Where did you dig out such a fellow!"

It turned out that Varenukha, like Rimsky, had never seen the magician Woland.Yesterday Styopa ("like a madman," according to Rimsky) came to the financial assistant's office with a draft contract and told him to copy it out in duplicate immediately, And immediately advance the performance fee.Now the conjurer was gone, and no one had ever seen him except Styopa himself. Rimsky took out his pocket watch and looked at it. The hour hand pointed to five minutes past two.He was absolutely furious.How unreasonable!Likhodeyev called at about eleven o'clock and said he would be at the theater in half an hour, but not only did he not come, but now he can't even be found at home!

"I've got a lot of work to do!" Rimsky growled, poking his finger at a pile of papers on his desk. "Is he going to get under the tram like Berlioz?" Varenukha said, putting the phone earphone to his ear, and the long tone rang out over and over again, looking hopeless. "Hmph, that's good..." Rimsky squeezed out a few words through his teeth, his voice was so small that he could barely hear it. At this moment, a woman in a uniform cap, a uniform jacket, a dark straight skirt, and loafers entered the office.She took out a white square envelope and a small notebook from the small satchel at her waist, and asked:

①The attire of the telegraph delivery staff at that time. "Wallet is here, right? An urgent telegram. Sign for it!" Varenukha made a few strokes in her notebook, and the woman turned and withdrew.As soon as the door closed, Varenukha immediately opened the square envelope. He read the telegram, blinked, and handed it to Rimsky. The telegram reads: "Sent from Yalta to the Valet Theater in Moscow at 11:30 noon today, a man with chestnut hair in short pajamas, suit pants and no shoes arrived at the Criminal Investigation Bureau. The insane person claimed to be the manager of the Valet Theater Please call the Yalta Criminal Investigation Bureau as soon as possible, where is the manager of the Yav Court.”

"Oh, my grandma!" exclaimed Rimsky, and added, "Another novelty!" "Hey, false Prince Dmitri!" said Varenukha.At this moment, he hung up the phone and said into the receiver: "Hi, is there a telegraph office? Telegraph registration: Vallett Theatre. Take an express... Can you hear me clearly?" Person: Criminal Investigation Bureau... Telegram: Likhodeyev, the director of our institute, is now the financial assistant Rimsky in Moscow'..." ① Dmitry Ivanovich (1582-1591) was originally the youngest son of Tsar Ivan IV (ie Ivan the Terrible).He was deported with his mother to a remote province in 1584, where he died of unknown causes.Therefore, twenty years later (1604-1612), there were several people who claimed to be Prince Dmitri and gathered crowds everywhere to make trouble.

Despite the telegram that someone in Yalta claimed to be Likhodeyev, Varenukha continued to call around looking for Styopa.Of course, it was nowhere to be found.Just as Varenukha was holding up the receiver and wondering where to make another call, the female courier who delivered the first urgent telegram came in and handed a new telegram to Varenukha.He hurriedly took it apart and looked at it, and couldn't help but whistled. "What's the matter?" asked Rimsky, twitching nervously. Varenukha silently handed over the telegram, and the financial assistant saw it: "Please believe that I have been hypnotized by Woland to Yalta, please quickly telegraph the local Criminal Investigation Bureau to prove my identity as Likhodeyev."

Rimsky and Varenukha put their heads together, read the telegram several times together, and then looked at each other, speechless. "Let me tell you, you two!" the female postman suddenly shouted angrily, "Sign for me first, and then stay in a daze, okay? You can stay as long as you want! I am sending urgent telegrams!" Varenukha continued to stare at the telegram, and casually signed the courier's notebook.The delivery man disappeared immediately. "Didn't you still talk to him on the phone after eleven o'clock?" the General Affairs Assistant asked Rimsky, who was completely bewildered.

"What a joke!" Rimsky screamed, his voice piercing. "Whether I got through the phone or not, there's no way he's in Yalta now! What a joke!" "Must be drunk..." said Varenukha. "Who's drunk?" Rimsky asked.The two looked at each other silently again. There was no doubt that an imposter, or a madman, had sent a telegram from Yalta.But the strange thing is, how did this prankster at Yalta know that there was a Wallander who had just arrived in Moscow yesterday?And how did he know about Likhodeyev's relationship with Woland? "'Use hypnotism'?..." Varenukha repeated these words in the telegram. "How did he know there was a Wallander?" Varenukha blinked, and suddenly said loudly firmly: "No, nonsense, nonsense, nonsense!" "Where the hell does this Wallander live?" asked Rimsky. Varenukha immediately hung up the phone and asked the international travel agency.To Rimsky's complete surprise, Varenukha put down the phone and said that Woland was staying at Likhoteyev's.Varenukha immediately dialed Likhodeyev's phone number again. He listened for a long time, but there was always a ringtone coming from the receiver. (But the ringtone seems to be mixed with distant, sad and sad singing) "...the cliff is my shelter..." Valenukha thought to himself: it must be the radio and telephone strings from the radio theater. up the line. "No one answered his phone," Varenukha casually hung up the headset, "If you want to hang up again..." He didn't finish the sentence, because the delivery girl was standing at the door of the office again.Rimsky and Varenukha stood up at the same time and went forward.This time the courier took out not a white envelope from the satchel, but a piece of dark gray paper. "Look, it's getting more and more interesting." Varenukha watched the postman leave in a hurry, and said vaguely through his teeth. Rimsky was the first to pick up the paper: two lines of handwritten black writing clearly stood out on the dark gray photo paper: "Please telex your handwriting and signature as proof, please call back to confirm that you will secretly monitor Volandrykhodeyev." Varenukha has been in the drama world for twenty years, and it stands to reason that he has a wide range of knowledge, but now he feels that his wisdom seems to be covered with a layer of cloth, and he is at a loss.Therefore, he could not say anything except the most common and most unreasonable sentence-"It's impossible!" Rimsky reacted quite differently.He stood up, opened the door, and loudly ordered the female correspondent sitting on the small stool outside the door: "Let no one in except the postman!" Then Rimsky locked the door, took out a stack of papers from a drawer of his desk, and began carefully combining the thick, black letters on the telegram with Stepan . The letters in Likhodeyev's commentary are compared with his signature with a corkscrew.Varenukha also stole from the sidelines and kept blowing hot air on Rimsky's face. "It's his handwriting." The financial assistant finally said firmly. "His handwriting," repeated Varenukha echoingly. At this moment, the Assistant General Affairs Assistant took a closer look at Rimsky's face, and couldn't help but be surprised by the obvious changes in him: the originally thin face now looked haggard, and even aged a lot, and the two eyes behind the horny mirror frame also lost the old days The piercing look of his face not only showed fear, but even sadness. Varenukha performed what a man does when he is terrified: first he walked quickly up and down the room, twice with his arms spread high as if crucified, and then he pulled himself out of the flask Poured out a glass full of yellowish water, gulped it down, and finally said loudly: "I don't understand! I don't understand one thing at a time!" Rimsky looked out the window, thinking nervously.He was in a difficult position: he had to find, right there, in this very office, a generally plausible explanation for this series of highly unusual phenomena. The financial assistant squinted his eyes and tried to imagine——imagining how Styopa, in short pajamas and no shoes, boarded a super-fast plane that he had never seen before at about 11:30 this morning, and then imagined this man in socks. Yu Styopa, also at about half past eleven, was standing at the airport in Yalta... God knows how it happened! Maybe it wasn't Styopa himself who called today from Styopa's house?No, it was him who heard the voice!I, Rimsky, can't hear Styopa's voice!Taking a step back, even if it wasn't Styopa himself who spoke to me today, he came from his office to mine in person with that bastard contract, and I threw a tantrum at him, accusing him of being rash. But it was yesterday evening.How could he have gone on a train or plane in the theater without even saying hello?Even if I flew away last night, I still can't fly to Yalta at noon today!Maybe fly there? "How many kilometers is it from Yalta?" asked Rimsky. Varenukha, who was walking up and down the room, stopped and shouted: "I've thought about it! I've thought about it a long time ago! The railway distance to Sevastopol is about fifteen hundred kilometers. From there to Yalta, add another eighty kilometers. But of course the air distance is shorter. " Well... yes... there is no possibility of going by train at all.That is how the matter?Went there in an Air Force fighter jet?Who would allow a shoeless Styopa to board a fighter?for what?Maybe he took off his shoes after flying to Yalta?But then again, for what?Even if he is wearing shoes, he will not be allowed to go to the fighter jet!Hey, fighter jets have nothing to do with this at all.The telegram clearly stated that he had arrived at the Criminal Investigation Department at half-past eleven, and when he called from Moscow, it was... wait a minute... ...remembered the position of the hands at that time) unimaginable!It was eleven twenty!So, how did this happen? !Suppose Styopa put down the phone yesterday and rushed to the airport, say, in five minutes (which is impossible of course), does that mean that the plane took off immediately and flew more than a thousand kilometers in five minutes? !Calculated according to this speed, the speed of the plane should be more than 12,000 kilometers per hour! ! !impossible!It can be seen that Likhodeyev is not in Yalta now. What else could happen?Hypnotism?How can there be hypnotism in the world that can throw people thousands of kilometers away at once? !It can be seen that this is just an illusion of Likhodeyev, who himself feels that he is in Yalta!However, he may have hallucinations, but the Criminal Investigation Bureau of Yalta City will not have hallucinations, right? !This, sorry, absolutely impossible! ...But the telegram was taken by the Criminal Investigation Bureau... The financial assistant's face was really scary.At this time, someone pulled the door from the outside or twisted the door handle.The female messenger at the door shouted desperately: "No! You can't go in! I can't let you in even if you kill me! It's a meeting!" Rimsky took off the phone headset, tried to keep calm, and said into the microphone: "I have an urgent call to Yalta." Varenukha thought to himself: "Have brains!" However, an emergency call to Yalta failed to materialize.Rimsky hung up his headphones and told Varenukha: "Unfortunately, the wiring is faulty." It seemed that the long-distance line failure had made Rimsky especially depressed, and he bowed his head in thought.After thinking for a while, he took off the earphone with his left hand, and at the same time recorded what he dictated into the microphone with his right hand: "This is the Vallett Theatre. Please send me an urgent telegram. Yes, to Yalta. To the Criminal Investigation Service. Well, I will dictate now: 'Likhodeyev was in Moscow this morning at about half-past eleven with I spoke on the phone, period. After the conversation he will be at work, period. Searched around on the phone to no avail, period. I confirm it's his handwriting, period. I'm taking steps to monitor the actor. Finance Assistant Rimsky' .” Varenukha secretly admired: "It's very clever!" But before he had time to think about it, another idea came to him: "Stupid! Styopa can't be in Yalta!" Rimsky put down the phone, collected several incoming calls from Yalta and his own drafts of the calls, sorted them into a pile in order, put them in a large envelope, sealed it, wrote a few words on the envelope, and handed it to Vanessa. Lenuka: "Ivan Savelevitch, please send this letter yourself, and they will investigate." Varenukha was secretly surprised again: "This is really brains!" He immediately sealed the envelope into his leather bag.Then, just in case, he called Styopa's home again.He listened with the handset, couldn't help but feel happy, and couldn't help winking mysteriously.Rimsky straightened his neck and looked at him. "I'm looking for the actor Mr. Wallander, is that okay?" Varenukha said into the microphone in a sweet voice. "Sir is very busy," said a broken voice through the receiver, "who is looking for him?" "I'm Varenukha, General Affairs Assistant at the Vallett Theatre." "Ivan Savelevich?" the voice on the receiver called happily. "I am very, very glad to hear your voice! How are you?" "Mercey!" said Varenukha in amazement, "who are you?" ① Russian pinyin of French "Thank you". "I am Mr.'s assistant, assistant and interpreter Karloviev," said the broken voice on the receiver, "I can help you, dear Ivan Savelevitch! Whatever you want, just order La! What do you want?" "Excuse me, isn't Stepan Bogdanovich Likhodeev at the moment?" "Oh, he's not at home! Not at home!" cried the receiver. "He's gone out in the car." "Where did you go?" "Going for a drive outside the city." "What...how? Go...for a ride?...Then, when will he come back?" "He said he would come back after a breath of fresh air!" "Oh..." Varenukha was very disappointed, "Mercey! Then please tell Mr. Wallander that his performance tonight is in the third segment." "As ordered. Of course, I must do it. Do it as soon as possible. That's right. I must tell you." The answer in the receiver was short and clear. "Well, good-bye," Varenukha said in surprise. "I want to send you," said the receiver again, "my warmest greetings and best wishes! I wish you success! Prosperity! Happiness! All the best!" The general affairs assistant hung up the earphones and said loudly excitedly: "Look, of course it is! As I said, he won't be in Yalta at all! He's gone for a drive!" "Hmph, if that's the case, it's too outrageous, it's so unreasonable! It's beyond words!" The financial assistant turned pale with anger. At this moment the General Affairs Assistant suddenly jumped up, making Rimsky tremble with fright.Just hear him yell out loudly: "I remember! I remember! Didn't Pushkino own a restaurant called 'Yalta', selling mutton pies, didn't he? That's all. He drove there, got drunk, Telegram to us from there!" ① A district center of Moscow State, established as a city since 1925. "It's too much!" Rimsky was so angry that the muscles on his face trembled, and there was a fierce look in his eyes, "Huh, there's no way, he has to pay a high price for this ride." He suddenly He stopped talking, and said half-believingly: "But there is still the Criminal Investigation Bureau, it doesn't..." "It's nothing! It's all his fault." The impulsive General Affairs Assistant interrupted Rimsky, and then asked: "Is this package still delivered?" "It must be sent," Rimsky replied. The door opened, and the female courier came in again... "It's still her!" For some reason Rimsky felt very uncomfortable.The two stood up at the same time and went forward. This time the telegram is: "Thank you for confirming your identity, Moneywire 500 Criminal Investigation Bureau, and transferred me to Moscow Likhodeyev tomorrow." "He's crazy..." Varenukha said weakly. And Rimsky immediately opened the safe with a clatter, pulled out a drawer, took out the money, counted five hundred rubles, hung up the phone, handed the money to the courier, and sent him to the post office to wire it quickly. "Forgive me, Grigory Danilovich," said Varenukha in alarm, hardly believing his eyes, "in my opinion, you should have sent the money more than necessary." "The money will be remitted back," Rimsky replied calmly, "and he will have nothing to eat for this picnic, so he will go away!" He pointed to Varenukha's leather bag and said : "Ivan Savelevich, you'd better go, and go now." Varenukha picked up the bag and ran out of the office. After going downstairs, he saw a long queue in front of the theater box office.When I asked the female conductor, I realized that all the tickets would be sold out in an hour, because the crowd flocked like a tide after seeing the poster of the supplementary program.So Varenukha ordered the conductor to hold back the thirty best tickets in the boxes and seats.After leaving the box office, he pushed away a few people who were pestering him for free tickets, and hurried into his office to get his hat.Just then the office phone rang. "Hi!" cried Varenukha. "Is that Ivan Savelevitch?" asked a very ugly and annoying voice. "He's not in the theater!" Varenukha yelled into the phone, but before he finished speaking, a voice from the receiver interrupted him; "Don't pretend, Ivan Savelevitch, listen to me: don't send those telegrams anywhere, and don't show them to anyone!" "Who are you?" Varenukha asked angrily. "I say, citizen, put away your tricks! I'll find you right away. What's your phone number?" "Varenukha!" continued the disgusting voice, "do you understand Russian? I tell you, don't send those telegrams out!" "Ah! You still insist on doing this?" the general affairs assistant yelled angrily. "Just wait and see! You will pay for it!" Already hung up the phone. The light in the office seemed to dim rapidly.Varenukha came out, shut the door with a bang, and went out the side door of the theatre, and hurried towards the summer garden. The General Affairs Assistant was very excited and full of energy.The phone call from the shameless man just now convinced him that this was a hoax played by a group of rascals, and that Likhodeyev's disappearance must have something to do with it.A strong desire to expose the conspiracy of these villains was burning in him, and he was even breathless; and, strange to say, he seemed to have a premonition of some happy event to come.This is often the feeling one gets when one is eager to report a startling piece of news to the authorities, hoping to become the center of attention. As soon as he ran into the garden, a cool wind blew in front of him, and the rolled up sand dazzled his eyes, as if it wanted to block his way, and sounded an alarm for him.He also heard the bang of the window on the second floor beside the road, and the glass was almost shattered.The canopies of the surrounding mech and linden trees whirred uncomfortably.It was dark and the air seemed cooler.The General Affairs Assistant wiped his eyes and looked up: a large black cloud with a yellow light below was pressing low over Moscow.There was a dull rumble in the distance. Although Varenukha was in a hurry, an uncontrollable feeling forced him to temporarily run towards the nearest public toilet in the park.He thought: Well, by the way, I can check whether the repairman put a wire cover on the light bulb in the toilet. After running across the small shooting range, he got into a thick lilac bush, where a small house painted light blue was a public toilet.It seems that the repairman is a man of his duty. The small light bulb on the roof of the men's room has been covered with a thick wire cover.Still, there was one thing that bothered the general affairs assistant: despite the low light before the thunderstorm, he could still see scribbles written in charcoal or pencil here and there on some white walls. "Hey, shameless!..." The general affairs assistant was about to curse, when he suddenly heard a cat-like voice calling him from behind: "Is that you, Ivan Savelevitch?" Varenukha was taken aback, and when he looked back, it turned out that a short fat man standing behind him was calling him.He thought the man's face resembled a cat's. "Well, it's me." Varenukha replied unhappily. "Very happy, very happy," said the cat-faced dumpling in a soft voice, and suddenly swung his arms and slapped Varenukha hard.Varenukha's hat flew off his head and landed in the urinal. The fat man struck down with his palm, and it seemed that there was a trembling light that lit up the whole toilet, and the sound of rolling thunder just happened to resound in the air.Then it turned on again, and another person appeared in front of the General Affairs Assistant.This man is not tall, with broad arms and round waist, like a strong man, with brown red hair, a white cloud over one eye, and a fang protruding from the corner of his mouth.The man was clearly left-handed, and he slapped Varenukha hard on the other side of the face.There was another thunderclap in the sky like an echo, and then there was the sound of pouring rain from the wooden roof of the public toilet. "What's going on? You guys..." The General Affairs Assistant was about to say "comrades" after being beaten unconscious, but felt that this title was really inappropriate for bandits who beat people in public toilets, so he changed his voice hoarsely: "These Gong..." Immediately, it occurred to them that they were not even worthy of the title of citizen.At this moment, one of them gave him a third loud slap, which made his nose bleed and stained his Tolstoy shirt red. "What's in the purse, you parasite?" The cat-faced dumpy growled in a harsh voice, "Is it a telegram? Didn't you call to warn you and not allow you to send it out? Let me ask you, did you warn me?" "Police... warning... I warned you..." the General Affairs Assistant said out of breath. "Then why are you still running outside? Give me the purse, you scum!" The voice of the second person was exactly the same as the annoying voice on the phone, and he snatched the purse from the trembling Varenukha . Then the two took Varenukha by the arms and dragged him out of the garden and down the street.At this time, there was thunder and lightning, and the rain was very strong. The rainwater rolled into the sewer pipe like a small river, making a rushing sound, and there were blisters everywhere. Ripples were blown on the flat ground. The turbid water flowing out of the gate hole was foaming.All living things on Huayuan Street were washed away, and no one could come out to save Varenukha.Lightning flashed, and the two robbers carried the half-dead general affairs assistant up and down the turbid street. In no time, they arrived at the gate of Building B of No. 302 and dragged him into the doorway.In the doorway, two women were leaning against the wall, barefoot, shoes and socks in their hands.Two thieves dragged Varenukha, who was almost unconscious, quickly to the sixth doorway, and at once carried him up five stories and dragged him into the dimly lit room of Styopa Likhodeyev's house, which he knew so well. Front room, thrown on the floor. The robber suddenly disappeared, but at the same moment a naked girl with brown hair and eyes with a hideous phosphorescence appeared in the antechamber. Varenukha understood that this was the most terrible of all the strange things that had happened to him.With a scream, he stepped back and leaned against the wall.The woman came up to him and put her hands on his shoulders.The Tolstoy-style white cloth shirt on his body was already soaked, and he was cold all over, but at this moment through the wet shirt, he still felt that the woman's hands were surprisingly cold, pressing on him like two ice cubes. shoulder.Varenukha felt his hair stand on end. "Come on, let me kiss you." The girl said to him tenderly. Varenukha only saw two phosphorescent eyes approaching her, and then lost consciousness.He didn't feel kissed.