Chapter 4 Chapter 4 Hunting

The hysterical screams of the women subsided, as did the blaring sirens.Two ambulances had already left: one was heading for the morgue with the headless body and severed head, the other was taking away the beautiful female driver who had been wounded by the glass.Cleaners in white smocks swept away the broken glass and sprinkled fine sand on the pool of blood.Before reaching the turnstile, Ivan Nikolayevich collapsed on a bench by the roadside and remained there. He tried to stand up several times, but his legs didn't work, as if he was paralyzed. It turned out that when the poet heard a woman shouting on the street, he hurried towards the fence gate, and happened to witness the scene of a human head rolling on the stone road.He was so frightened that he collapsed on the bench, bit his hand, and even bit the blood.At this time, of course, he had completely forgotten about the crazy German, and he was only thinking about one problem: Berlioz was talking to him just now, and in a blink of an eye he was decapitated.How is this possible?

Excited passers-by talked loudly and passed by the poet, but the poet did not hear what they were saying. However, unexpectedly, two women walking towards the poet happened to pass by the poet, and one of them, a woman with a sharp nose without a headscarf, said to the other woman as if she was addressing the poet's ear: "It's all Annushka's fault, that Annushka who lives in our Garden Street! She did a good job! She bought a bottle of sunflower oil in a grocery store, smashed it against the revolving door, and put One of my own skirts was also stained... She was still cursing for a long time! That person just now, is so pitiful, he must have slipped on the oil and slipped onto the tramway..."

The women shouted loudly, but at first only one name was clearly printed in the poet's messy mind—Anushka... "Anushka...Anushka?..." the poet said to himself, looking around in alarm, "wait a minute, what's going on? Immediately afterwards, the name sunflower oil and Annushka were linked together in his mind, and then, for some reason, "Pontius Pilate" emerged.The poet drove Pilate away, trying to figure out a clue along the line of "Anushka", and quickly figured it out: it was naturally connected to the mad professor. Yes!He had already said that Annushka had been sprinkled with sunflower oil, so the meeting could not be held.Well, the meeting was out of order; and besides, hadn't he said straight out that Berlioz was going to have his head cut off by a woman?exactly!Isn't the driver of that tram a woman? !How is this going?ah?

There is no room for doubt that the mystical advisor had accurately foreseen the full picture of Berlioz's tragic death.Thus, two thoughts entered the poet's head: First, the consultant is not crazy at all!It's all pretending to be garlic!Second, could all this be arranged secretly by him? "But, may I ask, how did he arrange it?!" "Oh, it doesn't matter! We must find out!" Ivan Nikolayevich managed to get up from the bench, and immediately ran back to the place where he had just been talking with the professor.Fortunately, the man has not gone away. At this time, the street lamps were turned on on Armor Street, and the golden full moon had risen over Patriarch Lake Park.The moonlight is easy to cause illusions. Under the moonlight, the poet saw that the professor was still standing there, but what seemed to be held under his arm was not the cane, but a long sword.

In addition, in the seat where Ivan himself was sitting just now, another person was sitting at this time, and this was the liar in checkered clothes, the former choir director.Now he wears a pair of pince-nez that he obviously doesn't need, one of the lenses is missing and the remaining one is still cracked.The man's appearance, therefore, was even more objectionable now than when he directed Berlioz onto the tramway. Ivan felt chills in his heart. He quietly walked up to the professor, and took a closer look at the other's expression.He was sure: there was no sign of madness in that face, nor had there ever been.

"Tell me the truth, who are you?" Ivan asked in a hoarse voice. The foreign professor frowned, glanced at Ivan as if meeting him for the first time, and said quickly: "I don't understand...Russian speech..." "This gentleman doesn't understand Russian!" interrupted the choirmaster sitting on the bench, although he was not asked to explain. "Don't pretend!" Ivan snapped, feeling a chill in his heart. "You spoke Russian fluently just now! You're not a German, and you're not a professor! You're a murderer, spy! Hand over you!" Here are your documents!" Ivan shouted angrily.

The mysterious professor curled his crooked mouth in disgust, and shrugged his shoulders. "I say, citizen!" interrupted the obnoxious choirmaster again. "Why are you bothering foreign tourists? You will be severely punished!" At this moment, the suspicious professor turned away from Ivan with an air of arrogance, and went to go. Immediately flustered, Ivan stammered to the choirmaster: "Hey, citizen, help me catch this criminal! It's your duty to help me!" The conductor immediately became energetic, jumped up from the bench, and shouted: "Which criminal? Where is it? A foreign criminal?" The former commander asked happily, blinking his small eyes, "Is it this guy? If it's a criminal, we have to call someone here quickly, or he will run away! Come on, let's Shout together! Shout together!" The conductor opened his mouth wide.

Dazed and at a loss, Ivan couldn't help but obey the former commander's words, and shouted: "Come here!" But the former commander was lying, he just opened his mouth and didn't shout out. Ivan yelled in a solitary hoarse voice, which did not bring any good results, but only scared away the two girls next to him.He also heard them say "drunk!" "Oh, so you are his accomplice?!" Ivan shouted angrily, "Why are you playing tricks on me? Get out of here!" Ivan rushed to the right, and the conductor also dodged to the right. Ivan wanted to run to the left, but the villain deliberately dodged to the left.

"Are you trying to mess with me?" Ivan yelled angrily, "I'll take you to the police station too!" Ivan stretched out his hand to grab the scoundrel's sleeve, but in vain, he grabbed nothing.The choirmaster suddenly disappeared without a trace. Ivan let out an "ah", looked up and saw that foreign professor of unknown origin had already walked to the exit of the park and was about to enter Patriarch's Alley, and he was not alone—the suspicious-looking choir director was also with him. walk together.Stranger still, a big tomcat appeared out of nowhere and joined them.The tomcat was as big as a guinea pig, and his whole body was as black as smoke or a crow, with two cavalry mustaches growing on the corners of his mouth, and he looked completely fearless.The three of them walked into Patriarch's Alley together, and the black cat walked on its hind legs.

Ivan did not hesitate to follow a few bad guys, but he realized immediately: it would be difficult to catch them. In an instant the party passed through the Patriarch's Alley and came to Spiridonovka Street.No matter how Ivan quickened his pace, the distance between him and them did not decrease at all.The situation deteriorated further when the poet passed unknowingly through the quiet Spiridonovka Street and came to the Nikita Gate: there were many pedestrians, bustling, and Ivan bumped into pedestrians and was constantly scolded. But those three guys adopted the usual method of thieves - they ran away separately.

The choirmaster jumped nimbly on a bus bound for Arbat Square and slipped away.Seeing that he had lost one of them, Ivan went after the black cat with all his heart.He saw the strange cat come to the "A" tram stop and push a woman aside brutally in front of the door of the first car on the station.As soon as the woman yelled, the tom had already climbed up the steps and grabbed the door rail.It even put its paw through the open window, trying to pass a ten-copeck piece to the conductor. ①At that time, in addition to the "A" and "B" trams in Moscow, there were also No. 1 and No. 2 trams. The tomcat's move stunned Ivan who had just chased him to the food store at the corner.What surprised him even more was the behavior of the female conductor: when she saw a black cat trying to get into the tram, she trembled with anger and yelled viciously: "Cats are not allowed in the car! No cats are allowed in the car! Go! Go! Or I'm going to call the police!" However, neither the conductor nor the passengers on the train were surprised by the essence of the problem: it is not surprising that the cat got on the tram, the problem is that the cat still wants to buy a ticket! It seems that this black cat is not only capable of paying, but also very disciplined: when the conductor yelled at it, it stopped squeezing into the car and obediently jumped off the pedal.It squatted on the platform, holding a silver coin in its front paws and wiping its mustache.However, as soon as the conductor pulled the signal rope, the tram started to move again: like everyone who was driven off the tram and insisted on taking this train, he jumped after letting go of two cars. After getting on the horizontal bar at the rear of the last car, the front paws grabbed the rubber tube protruding from the outside of the car, and drove forward with the car, which could save a silver coin. Ivan just stared at the obscene black cat, and almost lost the most important person, the foreign professor.Fortunately the fellow had not had time to slip away: Ivan saw his gray cap swinging at the corner of Nikita Street, now called Herzen Street.Although Ivan reached Herzenstrasse in an instant, he did not overtake the man.Ivan strode forward at first, and then simply pushed the passers-by to trot, but the distance between him and the professor did not decrease by a single centimeter. Ivan was very frustrated, but at the same time secretly marveled that he could catch up with such a supernatural speed: in less than twenty seconds, he had already run through the Nikita Gate to the brightly lit Arbat Square. After the clock came another dimly lit old street with sloping sidewalks.Here he accidentally fell and broke his knee.He got up hastily, and ran again into a brightly lit avenue, Kropotkin Street, then passed an alley and Ostozhenka Square, and followed into a dreary, dirty, dimly lit alley.It was only here that Ivan Nikolayevich completely lost the man he was chasing after—the professor disappeared completely. Ivan was very anxious, but it didn't take long, because he suddenly felt that the professor must have hid in the nearby building No. 13, and he must have hid in the building No. 47. So Ivan broke into the gate, quickly ran up to the second floor, immediately found No. 47, and hurriedly rang the bell.It didn't take long before a four or five-year-old girl opened the door for Ivan. She opened the door and walked away without asking any questions. The front room of the house was large, dimly lit by a small electric lamp under a high ceiling that had been darkened with age, and looked extremely deserted, as if it had been left unattended for a long time.A bicycle without tires hung on the wall, a large iron-clad wooden box stood in the corner, and a winter cotton hat with its two long earflaps hung down on the horizontal board above the clothes hanger.In one room the radio was on, and a sonorous male voice was yelling angrily, as if reciting poetry. Ivan Nikolayevich did not hesitate in this strange surroundings.He ran straight into the hallway and concluded "of course the guy hid in the bathroom".It was dark in the hallway.He felt the wall and took a few steps, and saw a faint light coming from under a door.He touched the doorknob and pulled it quietly.The hooks on the door were off - this happened to be the bathroom.Ivan secretly congratulated himself on his luck. But, unfortunately, his luck was not what he hoped for!As soon as the door was opened, he immediately felt a burst of hot and humid air rushing towards him; through the light of the smoldering coals under the water heater, he saw two large laundry tubs hanging on the interior wall, and a large bathtub on the floor, the enamel of which was peeling off. There were terribly black spots revealed.In the bathtub stood a naked woman, covered in soap scum, holding a bath mop in her hand.The woman glanced at Ivan who barged in with her short-sighted eyes.Apparently she had misunderstood the person because of the dim light, so she said very happily and coquettishly: "Kirushka! Don't mess around! Are you mad? . . . Fyodor Ivanitch will be back soon! Get out of here!" he said, waving the bath mop in Ivan's direction. ①The pet name and nickname of the male name Kirill. She was clearly mistaken.Of course Ivan Nikolayevich was to blame for the misunderstanding, but instead of apologizing, he cursed loudly: "Oh, that man-thieving slut! . . . " Then he went into the kitchen again somehow.There was no one here, and in the dark, he saw a dozen or so unlit kerosene stoves neatly placed under the stove.Moonlight shone through dirty glass windows that had not been cleaned, and dimly illuminated a cobwebbed corner where a long-forgotten, dusty shrine of icons hung, behind which peeked out a pair of large wedding flowers. Candle.Below the shrine hung a smaller paper icon pinned up. No one can tell what Ivan was thinking at the time, anyway, he stole a candle from behind the shrine, took off the paper icon, and took these things out of the unknown house through the back door, saying Li still kept mumbling something.Thinking of what he had seen and heard in the bathroom just now, he felt a little embarrassed, but he couldn't help wondering who that shameless Kiryushka was, and whether that annoying cotton cap with long earflaps belonged to Kiryushka. ? Ivan walked into an empty, secluded alley again, looked around for the escapee, but found none.So he said to himself very confidently: "Well, yes, he must be on the Moskva River! Go there!" It seems that Ivan Nikolaevich should be asked why he firmly believes that foreign professors are on the banks of the Moskva River and not somewhere else.But the bad thing was that there was no one here and now to ask him that question—not even a soul in the damned alley. In a few moments Ivan Nikolayevich appeared on the steps of the granite berm at the bend of the Moskva River. Ivan took off his clothes and saw a pleasant-looking bearded man smoking a self-rolling cigarette nearby. Beside him was a worn-out Tolstoy-style white blouse and a pair of old leather shoes unlaced. .Ivan asked the bearded man to take care of his clothes, snatched his arms a few times to cool down his body, and then plunged headlong into the Moscow River like a swallow.The river was so cold that Ivan felt out of breath, and even flashed a thought that he would never be able to surface again.But he still floated up.Panting heavily, with his frightened eyes wide open, he swam in the black water that smelled of gasoline.The street lamps on the bank refracted into curved reflections in the river, and Ivan swam back and forth a few times among the reflections. Ivan, who was dripping wet, came up from the river, bouncing on the steps and walked towards the place where the bearded man took care of his clothes.Only then did he realize that not only the bearded man had disappeared, but even the clothes had been stolen.All that remained of his clothes was a pair of old striped trousers, a tattered Tolstoy blouse, a candle, a holy image, and a box of matches.Ivan raised his fist and waved helplessly to the distance twice, as if trying to scare someone, then he had no choice but to put on the rest of his clothes. At this time, there were two things that made him feel uneasy: first, the "Mo Wenlian" membership card that he always carried with him was stolen; second, it was difficult for him to pass through downtown Moscow smoothly with this attire: He only wears a pair of underpants...Of course, it doesn't bother anyone, but there is always something wrong.Do not let anyone find fault with you, or be detained by the police. Ivan unbuttoned the cuffs of his drawers, hoping that this would make the legs unravel, more or less like a pair of summer trousers.Then he took up the icon, the candle, and the matches, and set off again, saying to himself: "I must go to Griboyedov's! He is there, no doubt." The city has already started its nightlife.Large trucks flew past with a rattle of dust, and there were some big men who looked like peasants lying on their backs on the sacks in the carriages.All the windows on both sides of the street were open, and the electric lamps in all the windows had orange lampshades. It was the equally hoarse opera "Polonez" by Eugene Onegin Chong. ① At that time, large trucks transporting goods in rural areas could only enter the downtown area at night. What Ivan Nikolaevich was worried about really happened: passers-by paid great attention to his clothes, and even looked back after passing by.In view of this situation, Ivan made a decision: avoid the streets as much as possible and walk through the alleys, where no one would stare at people deadly, and his bare feet were unlikely to attract attention. A pair of underpants that don't quite look like a pair of suit pants is less likely to cause a series of problems. That's what Ivan did—he got into the mysterious cobweb-like alley near Arbat Avenue, slid along the wall, kept glancing sideways, looking back, hiding in the doorway, and in time went around. At the intersection with traffic lights, avoid the beautiful gates of foreign embassy courtyards. Throughout this difficult journey he was accompanied by the band playing on the radio, and everywhere he heard the same grave bass voicing his love for Tatiana to the accompaniment of the band.For some reason, the sound of the music made him feel indescribable pain. ①The heroine in the opera "Yeshigany Onegin".