As followed from the science, the samples fell into four groups: three members of the company belonged to group one, two of them belonged to group two, three of them belonged to group three and two belonged to group four. Furthermore, in all cases the particles of liquid possessed additional individual characteristics. Microscopic admixtures of nicotine, lipstick and medicines that were present in the saliva made it possible to hope that identifying the hooligan might prove easier than Fandorin had been expecting.
Now he had to go back to the theatre and carry out another procedure.
It was already getting light outside. As he shaved and changed his clothes, Fandorin listened to check whether Masa was asleep. For the first time in a long time Erast Petrovich had a chance to boast of at least something to the Japanese. Of course, it was no astounding breakthrough, but at least there was something to tell.
However, Masa was snuffling away gently in his room – resentfully, or so it seemed to Fandorin. Well, that was only for the best. Today the author of the scribbles would be identified. Then he would be able to tell Masa the whole story, make peace with him and involve him in the investigation. There was a murderer on the loose, he was dangerous. This was no time for stupid nonsense.
The next stage would be to collect samples from the Tablets. All the entries about the benefit performance had been made with an indelible pencil that had to be wetted with saliva before use. Using a sample-extractor of his own design, Erast Petrovich intended to scrape away particles of the paper, together with the saliva that had soaked into them. Unfortunately he had not been able to do this the previous evening – the Tablets had been taken away to the hall by the cleaner, and Fandorin had not wished to wait until the service staff left. And in any case he would have to bring the glasses back.
He entered the theatre through the stage door, which he opened with a picklock. One of the rules established by Stern prohibited any of the service personnel from appearing in the building before the lunch break, so that they would not interrupt the sacred rites. Only the watchman was sitting in his booth, separated from the auditorium by an entire storey. So there was no reason to fear that this time Erast Petrovich would be seen by anyone.
Without encountering any complications, he first set the glasses back in their places and then entered the hall. The journal was lying where it was supposed to lie: on the director’s little desk.
Fandorin switched on the lamp, prepared his extractor and opened the book. Then he froze.
On the empty page, immediately below today’s date, there was a new entry in shimmering, blue indelible penciclass="underline" FOUR 1S UNTIL THE BENEFIT PERFORMANCE. BE READY.
The fourth time! And now there were four 1s too…
Astounded, he lifted the book right up to his eyes. He told himself: Very good, fresh traces, now we’ll find out who this joker is. Although he no longer believed that this was a joke.
A door creaked beside him.
Fandorin looked round – and saw Eliza.
FANDORIN’S WORK OF DEDUCTION IS HINDERED
It was impossible to take the sample with her there. Erast Petrovich hid the extractor. There was still a lot of time to go before the rehearsal began, the actors would not start gathering for at least another hour. If Eliza left him alone for at least five minutes, that would be enough.
‘Are you not going up to your dressing room?’ he asked after an oppressive pause.
‘Yes, I have to take off my hat and coat and change my shoes. Will you see me up? Let’s go through the foyer. It’s dusty backstage.’
It would be impolite to refuse, he thought, realising perfectly well that he was deceiving himself. To be beside her, to walk through the empty, dark corridors together, just the two of them – was this not happiness?
Feeling pitiful and weak-willed, Fandorin followed Eliza without speaking. Suddenly she took his arm in hers, which was strange – in enclosed premises ladies did not usually do that.
‘Oh Lord, to walk like this…’ she whispered about some thought of her own.
‘What?’
‘Never mind, never mind…’
She let go of him.
At the door of the dressing room, she apologised and asked him to wait while she put on her tabi – Japanese socks – for the sandals.
Five minutes later she called out.
‘You can come in now.’
Eliza was sitting in front of the dressing table, but looking at Fandorin, and he saw her immediately from every angle: the back of her head, her face, both profiles. In the light of the lamp her hair shimmered, like a golden helmet.
‘Please stay with me for a while. Just stay. I’m in a really bad way…’
He lowered his eyes in order not to look into hers. He was afraid of giving himself away, afraid that he would dash over to her and start babbling pitiful nonsense about love.
Erast Petrovich gritted his teeth and made himself think about the case. The extraction of saliva from the Tablets would obviously have to wait until the evening, but even without the analysis there was plenty to think over.
So, a fourth entry had appeared in the journal. The chronology and the arithmetic were as follows: on 6 September there were eight 1s remaining until a certain benefit performance and someone was called upon to ‘think again’, on 2 October, there were seven 1s remaining, on 1 November, for some reason, there were only five; and finally, today, 11 November, there were only four 1s remaining and the unknown author admonished his reader to ‘be ready’. Fandorin sensed a system in this arithmetical leapfrog, which at first glance appeared arbitrary. And if that was so…
‘My sincere condolences on your l-loss,’ he said out loud, because Eliza was clearly waiting for him to say something. ‘It is terrible to lose a fiancé.’
‘It is terrible to lose yourself! It is terrible to be in a state of despair and fear every minute!’
Is she crying? Why has she put her hand over her mouth?
Erast Petrovich moved towards her impulsively. And stopped. Then he took another step forward. Eliza turned towards him, put her arm round his waist, pressed her face against him and burst into sobs.
It’s her nerves. It’s very clear. The embrace only signifies that she needs support and consolation. Cautiously, very cautiously, he put one hand on her shoulder. He stroked her hair with the other.
Eliza wept for a long time, and for all that time Erast Petrovich’s thoughts refused to return to the mystery of the 1s.
But when the actress raised her wet face to him and glanced at him, Fandorin longed unbearably to lean down and dry every teardrop with his lips. He stepped back and clutched at his deductions as if they were the straw that could save him.
The changing remainder of 1s signifies that originally there was a specific number of them. As a result of 1s being deducted in a manner that is in some way connected with the passage of time, this number is being reduced. The first question is: what was that number? How many 1s were there to begin with?
‘I can’t go on,’ Eliza whispered. ‘I must tell you… No, no!’
She turned away quickly, saw herself in the mirror and gasped.
‘What do I look like? There are only fifty minutes left until the rehearsal! You mustn’t see me like this! Please, wait outside. I’ll tidy myself up and come out to you.’