Fly Hunter: The Story of an Inquisitor - страница 11

Husayn eagerly drank two powders and instantly fell asleep. Aman-Jalil quickly undressed and took possession of Dilber.

– Virgin! – he grinned satisfactorily.

When Aman-Jalil got off the divan, he saw Ismail Pasha standing in the doorway.

– Sharing her together? – Ismail Bey couldn't take his eyes off Dilber's body.

– No, I'm alone, he can't do it.

– Have you been at this long?

– First time, I swear!

– Is she asleep?

– The powder worked… If you want, you can be second.

– Go, stand watch! – Ismail Bey trembled with desire.

– Twenty coins!

– What?.. That's steep!

– A young one on the street corner costs fifty. Here, you'll be second, I swear on my father.

– Fine, here, extortionist.

– Insulting me. You've still got thirty coins in your pocket…

Aman-Jalil jingled the coins in his pocket satisfactorily and went out onto the veranda to stand watch… Little flies swarmed over a drop of jam that had somehow landed on the windowsill. The burgeoning generation densely surrounded the sweet treat. Aman-Jalil fetched a rubber band and with three snaps created a bloody massacre at the feast.

He then practiced shooting flies in mid-air… Hearing his mother's voice as she returned from the bath, Aman-Jalil knocked on Dilber's door and cautiously peeked inside. Ismail Bey was hastily dressing. Aman-Jalil slipped into the room and closed the door behind him. When he turned around, he saw Ismail Bey doing something to Husayn. Aman-Jalil approached closer. Ismail Bey was smearing Dilber's blood onto Husayn.

– What are you doing?

– And he decided to marry her? Let him marry, we'll help him, people should help each other, what do you think, son?

– I still want to, but you should leave, mother's here, you'll leave her with nothing today.

– You don't know your mother well, young man!

Ismail Bey mischievously stepped outside, leaving Aman-Jalil with Dilber…

Later that evening, Dilber's parents caught their shameless daughter in Husayn's embrace; they were asleep. A wedding had to be arranged. Husayn was so happy, so overjoyed, he embraced Aman-Jalil and swore eternal friendship to him…

Aman-Jalil poured tea into the cups and pondered how to get out of this tea-drinking.

– Go, bring me… – he ordered the driver, – French cognac. Men need cognac for such meetings. Let the women drink tea; we'll warm up differently.

The driver was eager. Hoping to get a drink himself, he hastily carried out the task. But Sardar Kareem refused the cognac.

– I don't drink wine!

– Oh, what a devout Muslim you are! Give a few coins to the mullah; he'll absolve all your sins for the next week.

– I don't go to the mullah.

– Well, that's not good; you don't want to drink with a friend.

– I prefer tea; you yourself said we've never had anything like this…

Nevertheless, Aman-Jalil poured him cognac despite any objections.

– Leave it there; if you want, you can drink it.

But Sardar Kareem didn't touch the cognac and continued drinking tea.

– Top quality! – he complimented, taking a sip.

– Drink up; I have plenty. If you want, I'll leave a pack for you.

Aman-Jalil and the driver toasted "to the health of those present." Meanwhile, Sardar Kareem, the widow, and her daughter drank tea… but not for long. Soon, the sleeping draught took effect. Aman-Jalil looked at the sprawled bodies with satisfaction. The driver froze in horror.

– Did you poison them? – he asked Aman-Jalil in a hoarse voice.