"Watson-TheAmberRoom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watson Ian)

"Why?" Antonov's tone proclaimed that the answer should be self-evident. Mr.
Mystery was fingering the lapel of his own suit. I caught a flash of, yes, a
double-headed eagle on a pin. This served as a signal to Antonov to initiate me.

"Because," said the bulky fellow, "the amber room was once the glory of the
Tsar's Summer Palace, a symbol of Holy Russia, usurped by the Bolshevists. Nazis
felt hatred for all Russians. The imperial Russian government fought the fathers
of those Nazis in the First World War. . ." He didn't need to lower his voice
due to the din of the music. "Mr. Burn, the rediscovery of the amber room
heralds. . .the restoration of the Tsars. It will serve as a sure sign."

Rylov nodded. Mr. Mystery exhaled blue smoke. In the logic of loony nationalism
perhaps this was true.

"You can help us, Mr. Burn. We will help you fulfill your own private dream! We
know where to look, and we have the means to help you see. What we ask is that
you buy the means from us, simply to help our funds." He named a figure in
Deutschmarks which corresponded with what Rylov already knew I had in my
possession.

A seam. This had to be a seam. A confidence trick.

If I tried to walk out on them, would I be detained by a gun held covertly under
the table? Would I be robbed while Pavel sat patiently in the car outside?
Worse, might the music mask an actual pistol shot?

Ah but this trio couldn't be sure that the money was on me at the moment. . .

"Show me this means of yours," I demanded.

Antonov frowned. "We do not carry it around restaurants. I will come to your
hotel tomorrow afternoon. We exchange. . .with good will."

As pavel drove me along Moskovsky back toward the Baltika he admitted, "I took a
look inside the restaurant, Mr. Burn. I recognized the big man with you. He is a
criminal."

I suppose his curiosity was justifiable in view of my mysteriously meeting with
strangers within a day of my arrival in Kaliningrad. Did Pavel imagine that I
was a criminal too? Or that I was involved in the espionage game? That my
interest in amber was merely a front?

"It's all right," I assured him. "Antonov offered to sell me some information
about the amber room I've been asking about."

"Antonov is his real name, or at least it's the name he uses."

Ah. Wise Pavel.

"Did you recognize the old man with the glasses?"