:11 PM

A couple pass by. They smile and congratulate him on his luck at having two such lovely ladies by his side!

Igor thanks them, for hes genuinely in need of distraction. Soon the long-awaited meeting will take place, and although hes accustomed to all kinds of pressure, he reminds himself of the patrols he had to go on near Kabul and how before any very dangerous mission, he and his col- leagues would drink and talk about women and sport, chatting away as if they werent in Afghanistan, but were back in their hometowns, sitting round a table with family and friends. It was a way of quelling their nerves and recovering their true identities, and thus feeling better prepared for the challenges they would face the next day.

Like any good soldier, he knows that battles have more do with aims and objectives than with the actual fighting. Like any good strategist he did, after all, build up his company from nothing to become one of the most respected in Russiahe knows that ones objective should always remain the same, even if the motive behind it may change over time. That is what has happened today: he arrived in Cannes for one reason, but only when he began to act did he understand the true mo- tives behind what he was doing. He has been blind all these years, but now he can see the light; the revelation has finally come.

And precisely because of this, he needs to keep going. The deci- sions he made required courage, a degree of detachment, and, at times, even a little madness, not the kind of madness that destroys, but the sort that carries a person beyond his own limits. Hes always been the same and has won precisely because he knew how to use that controlled madness whenever he had to make a decision. His friends would move with astonishing speed from saying, Its too risky to I always knew you were doing the right thing. He was capable of surprising people, of coming up with fresh ideas, and, above all, of taking any necessary risks.

Here in Cannes, thoughperhaps because hes in an unfamiliar place and still befuddled by lack of sleephe has taken quite unnec- essary risks, risks that might have forced him to abort his plan earlier than expected. Had that happened, he would never have reached his present clear-eyed position, one that cast an entirely different light on the woman he thought of as his beloved and whom he believed merited both sacrifice and martyrdom. He remembers the moment when he went up to the policeman to confess. That was when the change began. It was then that the spirit of the girl with the dark eyebrows began to protect him and to explain that he was doing the right things but for the wrong reasons. Accumulating love brings luck, accumulating hatred brings disaster. Anyone who stands outside the Door of Problems and fails to recognize it may well end up leaving it open and allowing trag- edies to enter.

He had accepted the young girls love. He had been an instrument of God, sent to rescue her from a dark future; now she was helping him to carry on.

He is aware, too, that, regardless of the many precautions he may have taken, he could not possibly have thought of everything, and his mission might yet be interrupted before he reaches the end. There is no reason, however, for regret or fear; he has done what he could, behaved impeccably, and, if God does not wish him to complete his task, then he must accept his decisions.

Relax, he tells himself. Talk to the young women by your side. Let your muscles rest a little before the final strike, that way, theyll be more prepared. Gabrielathe young woman who was alone at the bar when he arrivedseems very excited, and whenever the waiter comes by with more drinks, she hands him her glass, even if its still half full, and picks up a fresh one.

I love it when its really icy! she says.

Her happiness infects him a little too. Apparently, shes just signed a contract to appear in a film, although she knows neither the title of the film nor what role shell be playing, but she will, in her words, be the leading lady. The director is known for his ability to choose good actors and good scripts, and the leading actor, whom Igor knows and admires, certainly merits respect. When she mentions the name of the producer, he merely nods knowledgably, as if to say, Yes, of course, I know who he is, aware that shell interpret the nod as meaning: Ive no idea who he is, but I dont want to appear ignorant. She babbles on about rooms full of gifts, the red carpet, her meeting on the yacht, the rigorous selection process she went through, future projects . . .

At this very moment, there are thousands of young women in Cannes and millions around the world who would like to be here to- night, talking to you and being able to tell these stories. My prayers have been answered and all my efforts rewarded.

The other young woman seems more discreet, but sadder too, per- haps because of her age and lack of experience. Igor had been there when she walked down the corridor and had heard the photographers calling out her name and clamoring to ask her questions afterward. Apparently, though, the other people at the party had no idea who she was; she had been so in demand at the start, and then, just as suddenly, had been dropped.

It was probably the talkative young woman who had decided to come over to him and ask him what he was doing there. At first, hed felt rather constrained, but he knew that if they hadnt approached him, other solitary people would have done so, to avoid the impression that they were lost and alone and with no friends at the party. Thats why he welcomed their conversation or, rather, their company, even though his mind was elsewhere. He told them his name was Gunther and explained that he was a German industrialist specializing in heavy machinery (a subject guaranteed to interest no one) and had been in- vited there by friends. He would be leaving tomorrow (which he hoped would be true, but God moves in mysterious ways).

When the actress learned that he didnt work in the film industry and wouldnt be staying long at the Festival, she almost moved away; however, the other girl stopped her, saying that its always good to meet new people. And so there they are: he waiting for the friend who showed no signs of arriving, the actress waiting for her vanished as- sistant, and the quiet girl waiting for absolutely nothing, just a little peace.

Suddenly, the actress notices some fluff on his dinner jacket, and before he can stop her, she reaches out to brush it away. She says:

Oh, do you smoke cigars?

Thats a relief, she thinks the object in his inside jacket pocket is a cigar.

Yes, but only after supper.

If you like, I could invite you both to a party on a yacht tonight. But first I need to find my assistant.

The other girl suggests that maybe shes being a little precipitate. She has only been signed up for one film and has a long way to go before she can surround herself with friends (or with an entourage, that word universally used to describe the parasites who hover around celebrities). She should respect the rules and go to the party alone.

The actress thanks her for this advice. Then a waiter passes, and she again places her half-full glass of champagne on the tray and takes another one.

I think you should stop drinking so much so quickly, says Igor/ Gunther, delicately taking the glass from her and pouring the contents over the balustrade. She makes a despairing gesture, then accepts that hes right, realizing that he has her best interests at heart.

Im just so excited, she says. I need to calm down a little. Do you think I could smoke one of your cigars?

Im afraid I only have one. Besides, its been scientifically proven that nicotine is a stimulant, not a tranquilizer.

A cigar. Well, they are similar in shape, but thats all the two objects have in common. In his inside jacket pocket he has a suppressor, or as its more commonly known, a silencer. Its about four inches long and, once attached to the barrel of the Beretta he has in his trouser pocket, it can work miracles, by changing bang! into puf.

This is because when a gun is fired a few simple laws of physics come into effect. The speed of the bullet is slightly diminished as its forced past a series of rubber baffles; meanwhile, the gases produced by the firing of the gun fill the hollow chamber around the cylinder, cool rapidly, and suppress the noise of the gunpowder exploding. A silencer is useless for long-range shooting because it affects the trajectory of the bullet, but its ideal for firing at point-blank range.

Igor is beginning to grow impatient.CouldEwaandherhus- band have canceled their invitation? Or could it beand for a fraction of a second his head swimsthat he had slipped the envelope under the door to the suite in which they were staying?

No, thats not possible; that would be such a stroke of bad luck. He thinks of the families of those who have died. If his sole objective was still to win back the woman who left him for a man who did not deserve her, all his work would have been in vain.

His composure begins to crack. Could that be why Ewa hasnt at- tempted to contact him, despite all the messages hes sent her? He has twice rung their mutual friend, only to be told there was no news.

His doubt is beginning to become a certainty. Yes, the couple were both dead. That would explain the sudden departure of the actresss assistant and why no one was bothering with the nineteen-year-old model who was supposed to appear at the great couturiers side.

Was God punishing him for having loved a woman he did not de- serve and had loved too much? His ex-wife had used his hands to stran- gle a young woman who had her whole life ahead of her, who might have gone on to discover a cure for cancer or a way of making humanity realize that it was destroying the planet. Ewa may have known nothing about the murder, but she it was who had made him use those poisons. He had been sure that he would only have to destroy one world and that the message would reach its intended recipient. He had taken that whole small arsenal with him knowing it was all just a game, certain that on the first night, she would go to the bar for a glass of champagne before joining the party, sense his presence there, and realize that she had been forgiven for all the evil and destruction she had unleashed around her. He knows that, according to scientific research, people who have spent a lot of time together can sense their partners presence in a place, even if they dont know exactly where they are.

That didnt happen. Ewas indifference last nightor perhaps her guilt at what she had done to himhad prevented her from noticing the man trying to hide behind a pillar, but who had left on the table various Russian economics journals, which should have been a large enough clue for anyone who was constantly looking for what she had lost. When youre in love you imagine that youll see the love of your life everywherein the street, at a party, or in the theaterbut Ewa had perhaps exchanged love for a life of glamour.

Hes beginning to feel calmer now. Ewa was the most powerful poison on earth, and if she had been killed by hydrogen cyanide, that was nothing. She deserved far worse.

The two young women continue talking; Igor moves away from them; he cannot allow himself to be overwhelmed by the fear that he might have destroyed his own work. He needs solitude, calm, the abil- ity to react swiftly to this sudden change in direction.

He goes over to another group of people, who are animatedly dis- cussing various methods of giving up smoking. This was one of the favorite topics in that particular world: showing your friends that you had the necessary willpower to defeat the foe. To take his mind off other things, he lights a cigarette, knowing full well that this is a pro- vocative act.

Its very bad for your health, you know, says a skeletally thin woman dripping with diamonds and holding an orange juice in one hand.

Just being alive is bad for the health, he replies. It always ends in death sooner or later.

The men laugh. The women eye this newcomer with interest. How- ever, just at that moment, in the corridorabout twenty yards away from where hes standingthe photographers start shouting:

Hamid! Hamid!

Even from a distance, and with his view blocked by the people strolling about in the garden, he can see the couturier and his com- panion, the same woman who, in other parts of the world, had walked into rooms with him, the same woman who used to hold his arm in that same affectionate, delicate, elegant way.

Even before he has time to utter a sigh of relief, something else at- tracts his attention and makes him look away: a man has just entered from the other side of the garden without being stopped by any of the security guards. The man glances this way and that, as if searching for someone, but that someone is clearly not a friend lost in the throng.

Without saying goodbye to the group hes with, Igor goes back to the two young women, who are still standing by the balustrade, talk- ing. He takes the actresss hand in his and makes a silent prayer to the girl with the dark eyebrows. He asks forgiveness for having doubted, but we human beings are still so impure, incapable of understanding the blessings so generously bestowed on us.

Youre moving a bit fast, arent you? says the actress, making no attempt to move away.

Yes, I am, but given what youve been telling me, everything in your life is moving fast today.

She laughs. The sad girl laughs too. The policeman passes by with- out noticing him. Hes been told to look out for men in their forties with slightly graying hair, but for men on their own.