10
My passport was indeed lying on the piano. Not surprising – anything of mine could show up at Beta’s and vice versa, anything of Beta’s could be at my place. A sort of mutual interpenetration, diffusion, as the scientists say. A thin layer of dust already covers everything – the table, the piano, the violin case… The violin. It was like Beta’s living soul, and now it drooped. The case is not standing in the corner as usual but is lying on the coffee table. It’s anxious. Alone. Where is its friend?
That’s a point – where is the other violin? I go through the flat looking for it, but it’s nowhere to be found. Auntie Manya doesn’t know anything about it, either. Who could have taken it? Who was here last? Gamayunov. That day. Surely he hadn’t swiped it?
I call him that evening.
“What a
