back, Lena. We’ve got a suspicious suicide on our hands here. A young woman. Can you come out here?”
3
General Konstantin Viktorovich Bayukin had not seen his son Aleksey for almost five years. The initial rift between father and son happened because the general had divorced Aleksey’s mother for putting on too much weight. The rift was exacerbated when, not long thereafter, a frenetic and enticing hussy – about Aleksey’s age – moved into the general’s apartment. The final straw came when the father refused to help his officer-son move ahead in the service. While Bayukin Sr. luxuriated in the air-conditioned climate of his comfortable office in the Main Housing Department of the Ministry of Defense, Aleksey Bayukin – attached to a motorized rifle brigade – choked on dust and grit in restive Dagestan.
How hard was it for a father to arrange for his son’s transfer to a good post in Moscow? Many other fathers would do so without a second thought. But General Bayukin was a self-made man who believed that the exigencies of service in a combat zone would be edifying to his sole offspring. Such assumptions enraged Aleksey to no end. He was already thirty and still a captain – a captain with a general for a father. Hearing the stories of his “proper Pops,” Aleksey’s brothers-in-arms twirled their index fingers next to their temples and screwed up their eyes.
The dominant aspect of General Bayukin’s character, however, was not so much his sense of duty as his a natural proclivity to caution. Working towards his goals, he was simply terrified of losing it all over nothing. The general had learned his lessons from those of his colleagues who had “flown too high”: Affecting humility was quite profitable – until the right time. Take care of your business and don’t stick your neck out. Eventually, the right moment will come, and you will reap the fruits of your caution.
The doorbell sounded from the entryway and the general, already expecting it, hurried to get the door. His son had arrived in a weathered pilot’s jacket with a ripped-off badge and a traveling bag over his shoulder. His wind-blown eyes groped at his father with a wary sullenness.
“Come in, come in,” fussed Bayukin Sr., slapping his son on the shoulder. “Straight to the kitchen. We’ll have a drink to celebrate.”
He sat Aleksey at the kitchen table, decked with a bottle of vodka and some light snacks. The general poured some shots.
“It’s good that you’ve come. To our meeting – cheers!”
Aleksey looked around.
“Where’s your – ”
“Forget it,” the general anticipated the rest of the question. “I kicked out that tease a long time ago. The young lady turned out to be a proper bitch. Wasted my money and cheated on me. Eh, you know what they say: ‘It is what it is!’”
General Bayukin swallowed his shot and took a bite of a pickle.
“I live alone now. When it comes to the deed… Well, I don’t really get the itch very often. Once a week, I have a call girl come over. She’s younger and doesn’t get on my nerves – it’s cheaper in the end too. What are you staring at me like that for? These days, it’s simple to arrange – not like years ago with party committees and all the other Soviet claptrap. Drink up, Aleksey.”
Bayukin Jr. took his shot and wiped his lips with the back of his fist.
“So basically, you’ve traded mom for a whore.”
“Don’t start, Aleksey.”
“You kicked her out and didn’t help me a damn either. I’m fighting in hell itself down there, while back home I’ve got neither an apartment nor a future. I don’t even have a place to invite a girl to – and yet here’s my Pops, bragging about how he bangs hookers in his palatial chambers.”
“What’s done is done! I didn’t help you for your own good.”
“Really?” Aleksey flapped his eyelids sarcastically. “Could you elaborate, general, sir, for the benefit of this stupid captain?”
“Come on, let’s just have a drink like we used to. Remember how we got you your lieutenant’s epaulets?”
“I couldn’t give a damn about your remembrances!”
“Stop yelling at your father and let me finish!” The general took another drink and so did his son. “Do you watch TV? Do you understand what the situation is these days? Did you forget what my position is? Claims, verifications, comparisons of income and expenditures – eh, it is what it is! You think I can’t spare an apartment for my son? No! But I’m under constant watch. The slightest inconsistency and they’ll charge me with corruption and lock me up – and take your apartment away to boot.”
“Are you trying to tell me you’re the only honest person in the Ministry of Defense?”
“I’m the most cautious.”
“Let’s drink then to the ostrich’s caution!” Aleksey raised his glass. “See no evil, hear no evil – but whoever comes along may treat my backside as he pleases.”
“What a fool you are, Aleksey!” The general drank again. His face was beginning to flush. “I haven’t been sitting on my ass here, you know. I got some irons in the fire. Do you know how one may misappropriate housing intended for service members who’ve been transferred to the reserves? It’s a nice con! The directives for issuing state housing to these soldiers are incredibly long documents. It’s normal to simply draw up authorized extracts from them. What I do is make up a fictitious extract authorizing the issue of housing. Another person forges a rental agreement with the district public housing office. As you probably know, according to Russian law, a tenant renting from the government can apply to privatize their apartment. So we have a lawyer petition a court for the right to privatize the real estate in question. The judge, who’s also with us, rubber stamps the petition. A title is issued and that’s that – go ahead and list your new apartment on the market.”
“And so then where does your caution lie?”
“In that I forge my supervisor’s signature but don’t get any money in return.”
“There it is – your saintly charity! You angling to become Pope or something?”
“In return, I get something else entirely – something no less valuable.”
“Gold and diamonds?”
“Nope. Just a slender little envelope that’s easy to slip across the border.”
Bayukin Jr. took another drink, poked around the salad with a fork, chewed the greens with one side of his mouth and glanced at his father askance.
“What’d you call me up here for? I can munch on vodka down there just as well.”
“They’ve launched an investigation into the embezzled apartments – and it’s looking serious.”
“‘They’ll put you away – that’ll teach you not to steal!’” Aleksey parried with a famous quote from Beware of the Car, a classic Soviet movie.
“Don’t talk to your father like
