Read The Domino Game for Free Online

You can afford a good apartment in a nice part of town.” His gaze trailed away, following the passing of a sleek, black Jaguar headed in the opposite direction. “You know, I still wonder why someone who can have all this would choose to spend his days wading in the sewers.”
    Nikolai glanced at his partner, lips bent in a dry smile.
    “Ever had a problem with your plumbing, Vari?” He turned back to the streetscape, not expecting a response.
    “We did, a few weeks back. A blocked toilet, nothing major at first. Natalia reported it to the superintendent but he didn’t want to get his hands dirty so he called a plumber. But the plumber was busy doing another job that was worth more to him and he didn’t come. So before long the drains in the bathroom and kitchen began backing up and the same thing started happening in the other apartments on our floor. Then the neighbors upstairs started having problems.”
    Vari slung him an uncertain look. ‘So, what’s your point?”
    Nikolai drew a breath and swung back from the window. “My point, Vari, is that if you have a problem with your sewer and no one’s interested in trying to fix it, then pretty soon everyone’s swimming in shit.”
    Vari considered this a moment. Gave Nikolai a thoughtful nod and turned back to the road. “I see… I think.” He drove on for a while, one hand draped loosely on the wheel, then threw the long gear shift back a notch, steered the black sedan into the central lane, signaled a left turn and changed the subject. ‘So. What did you get her?”
    “What did I get who?” Nikolai replied absently.
    Vari shot him another glance. “Natalia of course.” He slowed the Volga to a stop, dropped it into first and spoke across the wheel as he searched for a gap in the traffic. ‘Today’s Friday, right? Yesterday you told me that Saturday is your anniversary. So, what did you get her?”
    “Oh shit!” Nikolai groaned. Slumped in his seat. “I forgot. Totally forgot.”
    He shrugged back the sleeve of his jacket and raised his wrist to the light, throwing a desperate glance at his watch. Five after eleven. Vari echoed his own conclusion.
    ‘Too late now, my friend.” The traffic eased and Vari hit the accelerator, plunging the car across Mira and into Ulitsa Kapelski. He looked sideways. “And what was that you were saying about swimming in shit?” He eased off the gas and swung right into Schepkina, continuing on for a few hundred meters before sliding the Volga into the curb, leaving the engine running. Nikolai sat for a moment, staring up at the facade of his building then grimaced and sprang the door.
    ‘Thanks for reminding me.”
    “Anytime, little brother.” Vari brushed a hand from the wheel. “What are friends for?”
    Nikolai watched from the front stoop as the Volga’s tail lights meandered down the street. When they rounded the corner back to Mira he dragged his keys from his pocket and turned to the entry. The glass panel floated against the gloom of the foyer beyond, forming a leaden mirror of his image. The lobby lights had blown a week ago and still weren’t fixed; why would he have imagined they would be? He lifted the keys to the lock then paused, studying his own reflection.
    He was changing. It wasn’t just the unfavorable cast of the light. He was tired and he looked it, but there was more to it than that. His clothes hung more loosely on his slender frame and his face seemed to have become more angular, the cheekbones and the line of his jaw more pronounced, his eyes harder and more cynical.
    At university in Leningrad he had worn his hair long with a moustache and beard, his mother remarking how much he looked like the image of Jesus Christ in the faded print that hung above her bed. If there had been a resemblance it had faded as well with the passing years. He was clean shaven now, his chestnut hair cropped short, still thick enough, but the progress of its recession clearly evident above his forehead.