The Domino Game Read Online Free PDF

the locks and moved on, turning his attention to the Biagiotti carrier.
    Gregori tried unsuccessfully for a smile. “My wife’s birthday.”
    The security guard stared at him blankly, regarded the bag a moment more then spread his hands above it in a gesture of apology. Gregori nodded his allowance and watched as the man’s fingers disappeared inside and re-emerged clutching the gleaming white box. He glanced at Gregori again, set the box down respectfully on the desk, pried off the lid, placed it to one side, and began exploring the delicate tissue with his thick fingers, finally lifting the chemise gently from its wrapping. Uncertain about what to do next he shook the garment lightly and the cream silk slinked and roiled out of his fingers and slithered into a pool on the table’s surface. It occurred to Gregori that his attention remained inappropriately fixed on the empty carton’s lining. He snapped aside quickly to meet the guard’s eyes, finding in them, to his relief, nothing more than clumsy embarrassment.
    He reached forward with both hands.
    “Here, let me help.”
    This time the smile worked.
    Gregori scooped up the clearly expensive garment, folded it back to order, lowered it carefully into the box and was reaching for the lid when he felt a strong hand settle on his shoulder. He started in fright and the blessed relief he had just begun to feel recoiled like a snake. When he turned he found Vitaly Kolbasov standing behind him, observing him with a watchful smile.
    Ivankov’s assistant dipped his head towards the white and red bag.
    “You have been doing some shopping I see.”
    Gregori’s brain scrambled to catch up.
    “Vitaly. You startled me.”
    He turned away again, spinning out time to recompose, concentrating on his packing, sealing the lid of the box carefully before facing Kolbasov again with a clumsy grin.
    “Lena, my wife. Today is her birthday. I wanted something special for her. I recalled you mentioning how impressed you and Mr Ivankov had been with the Biagiotti showing you attended at the Kremlin and then I heard last week that she had opened a store here in Moscow.”
    Kolbasov gave a nod of approbation and traced a finger across the slick surface of the carrier. “You’re learning well, Gregori. I’m flattered you pay me such attention.” His gaze swung across to the guard who had been watching their exchange. “So, Andrey, are we all finished here?”
    The guard looked from Kolbasov to Gregori, then back at the carrier. Kolbasov gave an impatient wave. “Well go on, man. Do not keep Mr Gilmanov waiting.”
    The guard nodded quickly, dipped his hands back into the bag, rummaged for a moment and came up clutching two plastic boxes, tipping them towards him and studying them with an expression of growing astonishment.
    Kolbasov’s smile thinned out and his face tightened. His eyes darted between Gilmanov and the boxes. When he spoke he addressed his question to the guard.
    “Well. What is it?”
    The aluminum taste was swelling through Gregori’s mouth again and he felt a strange quiver at the base of his tongue as if he might at any moment be about to vomit. He swallowed and turned away, unable to bring himself to watch as the guard surrendered the cassette cases into Kolbasov’s outstretched hand. Gregori’s legs were trembling now; the heat flaring in his cheeks. His mind was stumbling to measure the probability of escape when he heard the peculiar sound behind him. It started as an abrupt chuckle of amusement, stopped then started again, growing steadily louder until it became a shrill wave of hilarity that filled the empty lobby.
    Gregori forced himself to look back. Vitaly Kolbasov was clutching a plastic cassette case in either hand, rocking with laughter as his eyes roamed the lurid montage of body parts displayed on their covers. He shook his head and skimmed a tape across the table to the bemused guard.
    “ Bozhe moi! Andrey, take a look! Can you believe it? Would