Chapter 17
APERITIF AND MAIN COURSE
When I got off the tram at the Jundrov stop, I set out along the dusty path and soon the circus tent, the place where the caravan wagons were parked, and the cages of the animals met my eyes. I felt that peculiar, chilly thrill which I know well from the days when the detective’s craft was my daily bread. Once more the ants began to crawl over my back — something that I otherwise only feel right before bedding a heretofore inaccessible partner, whom I’d had to chase after for a long time. Or whenever I find myself in front of a painting by Chittussi.
I bought myself a ticket for that evening’s performance, and because it was still early, I wandered around the circus animals’ cages, the circus wagons, and, along with the other curious folk, I poked my
