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Bulgakov .) Yes, sir, I would like to work there. I did put in an application, but . . .
    ( As Stalin .) Put in another. Perhaps this time they will have a place for you.
    Vladimir folds away the transcript.
    And?
    Bulgakov They did.
    Vladimir He rescued your career.
    Bulgakov Rescued it from his own oppression.
    Vladimir Let’s not split hairs. The point is: he gave you a second chance. The White Guard went on at the Art Theatre. Eight hundred performances later, you were the toast of literary Moscow. Now don’t you owe him something?
    Bulgakov says nothing.
    Vladimir picks up the phone and dials.
    Hello, Comrade, it’s Vladimir. Listen – is anyone using the rooms at the moment? I’ve got a very important guest and I wanted to show him round.
    He winks at Bulgakov.
    Great. Now? OK? We’ll be quick. I promise.
    He hangs up.
    Right. Let’s go.
    Vladimir leads Bulgakov across the stage.
    Stepan follows.
    They stop at the cupboard.
    Vladimir draws it open.
    The Cleaner, in an overall with a mop, steps out.
    She also carries a folded tarpaulin which she hands to Stepan.
    Stepan proceeds to unfold it on the floor.
    Do you know what she does?
    Bulgakov No.
    Vladimir Guess.
    Bulgakov No.
    Vladimir Guess!
    Bulgakov I have no idea.
    Vladimir She cleans the tarpaulins.
    Bulgakov still does not understand.
    You see, down here, Bulgakov: this is where it actually happens. Before this, of course . . . the arrest . . . the interrogation . . . the confession . . . the trial . . . and then, you put on a white cotton shirt and you come down here. The wooden panelling prevents ricochets, which is also why we use a small-bore pistol –
    Stepan draws out a pistol.
    Like this one.
    Vladimir pushes Bulgakov down on to his knees.
    Stepan jabs the barrel into the top of Bulgakov’s spine.
    One shot to the back of the neck.
    Stepan pulls the trigger. Click. Bulgakov jolts at the sound.
    Often we need a second shot.
    Stepan pulls the trigger again. Click.
    You’d think that would be enough, right? You’d think two bullets, to the base of the brain – that would surely be enough to kill a man. But sometimes – we need a third.
    And again. Click. Bulgakov jolts again.
    And after that, she cleans the tarpaulin.
    Stepan puts his gun away.
    Vladimir hauls the trembling Bulgakov back to his feet.
    Stepan folds up the tarp and hands it back to the Cleaner.
    She disappears back into the cupboard and Stepan slides the door closed.
    Now I know you’re a tough guy. You’re not afraid of death – so I’m not going to threaten you. But I want to see some script by tomorrow morning. The opening scene. Whatever. I don’t care. Words on the page. And don’t think about yourself, Mikhail. Think about Yelena.
    Enter Yelena in a nightgown. She gets into the bed and lies down.
    Vladimir and Stepan exit.
    For a beat, Bulgakov is alone.
    Moonlight fades up on the bed.
    Yelena is asleep.
    Bulgakov crosses and sits on the bed. He is desperate, stuck.
    The telephone on its stand starts ringing.
    Yelena does not wake.
    The ringing continues.
    Bulgakov goes to the phone.
    He picks it up.
    Bulgakov Hello?
    The voice is male, rough.
    Voice Can I help you, Comrade Bulgakov?
    Bulgakov Who is this?
    Voice Go to Mayakovskaya metro station. Take the northbound tunnel for three hundred metres. There you will find the entrance to a side tunnel which you should take, then climb the steps. Make sure you are not followed.
    Bulgakov Who are you?
    Voice I’ll be waiting.
    Click. The line goes dead.
    Bulgakov replaces the receiver.
    A pause.
    Then he goes to the bed and grabs his coat.
    He goes to the front of the stage.
    Yelena wakes.
    She pulls on a gown.
    Yelena Mikhail! Mikhail!
    She cannot find him.
    She exits, calling:
    Vasilly! Praskovya!
    Bulgakov crosses to the desk.
    He stops and turns to face the cupboard.
    The door slides open.
    Slowly, a man emerges, silhouetted from behind.
    Bulgakov steps back in