The Hired Killer (2)
(день дурака)
He knew that Putin wanted his head, but closer home there was Blavatnik. He was wary of bodyguards. By definition a mercenary is someone who does his job for money. What if the other guy offers him more ? He very much preferred the safety of electronics. Electronics and Rottweilers. He invested just over a million pounds to make his Surrey home as impregnable as Fort Knox. What’s one million quid when you have 37 billions! Since Tatiana walked out on him, he hardly saw anybody. He did not really hanker after company. There was only one friend he missed, but Piotr was busy at the famous Mayakovsky Theatre, playing everything from Дядя Ваня (Dyadya Vanya) to King Lear. But last time they phoned he promised that he would make the time for a quick visit to London. Ah, the good times they had together as children. Then at university. The number of vodkas they had downed, the dyevooshkis they had bedded. With Piotr you never stopped laughing.
He had watched some porn with a bottle of the best Beluga. He had no taste for caviare, the best accompaniment to him was Walker crisps. In the privacy of his own home, he never wore the silk pyjamas in his cupboard. He felt much more comfortable in jockey shorts and a T-shirt. And his Glock. It was never more than one metre away. There was always one under the pillow and another one at his feet. It was childish, he knew, but he sometimes thought that if some hired killer did manage to break in by some miracle, he’d feel ashamed of being seen in such paltry night clothes.
Still that was exactly what happened that night. He had no time to ask questions. His hand was on the trigger, with the nozzle pointed at the intruder, who also had his weapon at the ready.
-Sergei_
He did not let him finish and pulled the trigger. He did not want to kill him straight away, so he aimed just below the heart. The man crashed in a heap.
-Why Sergei … it was just for fun … den’ duraka.
It was indeed the first of April.
He screamed like a man possessed as the truth dawned upon him. How could he forget that Piotr was the only other person in the world who knew the lock codes! With his attention to details, the great actor was putting a show for his friend, except that in his hand was a toy gun. He threw himself on his friend and hugged him and kissed him, cried and laughed, but Piotr expired all the same.
