Direville in the red fog. Lina Dee

coast and took home the stones with which he knocked against each other. As a reminder.

      ***

      The last time, glancing at the old crypt, bricked up in the wall, Mr. Adelard put his hands to his face, hiding his quiet tears from the ghosts, and remembered Victoria’s happy face.

      Blume and Frumé Grober

      You can ensnare anyone and anybody, but the more sophisticated way and the more uncommon victim you choose, the more interesting it will be…

      ***

      A vanilla-cream house with a dark roof, look like made of chocolate, standing on Twitch Street, has already met the first rains, stayed too long after weathered snow mounds.

      In the kitchen of the fabulous of Blume and Frumee’s house in an open jar and silver bowls placed on the table, decorated with convex monogram patterns, like all expensive service, strawberry jam was fragrant. Large bright berries glistened in the rays of the blinding sun, drowning in gummy viscous jam.

      While one of the triple sisters, and there were three of them, although few heard about the third one, named Charnett: nobody ever saw her at all in Direville… So, while one of the sisters oldie Blume was going down something in storage space underneath with a lighted candle, and the another, Frumeé, poured out freshly brewed thistle tea to herself and her sister, somewhere in the courtyard in the next street, near the garbage cans, yawned and woke up Zoticus. His new friend Carbre, with matted hair and a black eye, was still dozing on Brase’s dog rolled up like a pillow. That night, they were expelled from the city’s night shelter for inappropriate behaviour. Awakening finally, Zoticus recaptured the whole picture of the night of the incident in a moment, breathed in the pleasant spring air with his nose, rolled up his dirty sleeves and pounced on Carbre with his fists. Bras leapt to his paws and, out of surprise, burst into deafening barking. Zoticus and Carbre fought to the accompaniment of a screaming beagle, who barked, sounding out the neighbourhood. Everyone got from the dog that was near including the young guy, who was driving past by bicycle.

      Frume, who was standing at the open window at that moment, shuddered at the noise, glanced at someone’s cigarette case lying on the «flowering» window-sill, and sneaked it to another place. But then she started fussing again, rearranged the glasses that had settled on her nose and hid the cigarette case, this time in another room.

      Alarmed, Blume, rising from storage space underneath to the kitchen, joined her sister and took the cup of tea for her. The sisters were only worried about one burning question, but, savouring tasty strawberry jam, they first leisurely discussed an early tour of the exhibition called «The Kingdom of Sand», where all the objects – small sculptures, figures, watches and inventions – were made using sand. And then, remembering the acquaintances they had met, they recalled their favourite store «Rubus».

      ***

      The opening of the exhibition was held under the magnificent musical accompaniment of George Bailley, who played the piano. There were a lot of people, despite the morning hours, and the arrival of the long-awaited blossoming spring reflected on their shining and enthusiastic faces.

      In fact, the old women Grober did not care either for the game of Bailley, nor strange objects or inventions, or an entertaining sand labyrinth that captivates many, even themselves. Cute white-haired women walking in armor in identical lavender dresses with lace collars looked at the guests, looking for the new victim… Yes, it was the new victim… They interrupted each other very quietly and, desperately arguing, attentively studied those present. Meeting familiar faces, they smiled at them good-naturedly, politely silencing them to think about theirs, and then they began loudly and defiantly praise the falling sand particles of the clock and the author who created them, who undoubtedly had perfect taste. Their tinted ruddy cheeks and ringing snooty laughter touched many around, even the very restrained cellist Lavinia, who, passing by, furtively admired George.

      It took about a few hours before Blume and Frume finally stopped quietly arguing and, at the same time glancing at the same person, experienced terrible disgust and emotional relief, because both felt: the decision was made unanimously – and they smiled delightedly. This happened after the exhibition, when they were on their way home from a familiar sign «Rubus» to buy a box of their favourite cookies with raisins and caramel filling…

      Now, sitting in a cosy house, they could exchange thoughts and fantasies about this, thinking over the details of the upcoming «case» without chance witnesses.

      ***

      After a hard day, a tired Direville waited for the night to come, surrounding himself with long-awaited twilight, which like remnants of old tea, casually spilled onto the city. Most residents have already hidden in their dreams after a long, picturesque sunset, driven by a light breeze. Cats, dogs and other animals took comfortable poses in their usual places – in the woods, in the fields or on hilly heights, in booths or on the rug at the owners’ bed. The birds also fell asleep, choosing favourite branches, attics and wires for sleep, fell asleep one by one, hiding their heads under the wing and ruffling their feathers.

      A terrible silence fell… The last three burning lanterns went out, plunging the city into darkness. Some time passed, and two charming old women with silver amusing chignons carefully crawled out of the fabulous house into the pitch darkness, firmly holding long threads that look like leashes. The threads were attached to the body, or rather to forebody of the giant eight-legged spider, slightly larger than a very large dog. Looking around, they moved very smoothly and carefully, almost silently descending from the threshold. Amazingly, some vision problems did not affect with the sisters to orient themselves brilliantly at night and be very attentive.

      They were very risky to be detected, leading a spider that jumped on shaggy gray paws and sometimes stopped suddenly to lift some of its limbs. From the side it might seem that the spider is performing some kind of amazing, inconceivable dance. Just making sure that no one was watching them, the old women left the courtyard and gathered along the avenue. A strange trinity, merging with darkness, as if turned into its own shadow. By the light of the moon, it was possible to see only the brilliance of eight spider eyes, chameleons and dancing glares on the rim of the glasses of smiling old women.

      Passing to the end of the alley, which was covered with snow some time ago, the spider jumped sharply and hurried to hide behind a flowering tree, dragging Blume and Frume out of breath. When a cat as a danger, which could have attracted unnecessary attention with a wild hiss, was over, they continued on their way, in silence, clinging to bushes, trees and courtyards with dense vegetation. After some time, the trio faced the threat again, this time was the «Halladay» car. A clever spider or female spider, having heard the noise of the engine, pressed to the ground, and the sisters disappeared around the corner until the car’s roar subsided in the depths of the street.

      Reaching the desired address – Gimp Street, three shadows, one of which was very unusual, found the gate open and slipped inside. Having reached the reddish, just like rubbed with pumpkin, house number 1, which stood slightly out of place, along the road, they stopped.

      Mr. Dunn, standing in the living room in the dim light at that time, heard a flicker at the door, froze in place and thoughtfully ran his fingers over his lips. Someone knocked on the house… Yes, it was he who knocked on two hands, but did not call. The knockers looked around the yard, finding an Indian Scout motorcycle hidden under a thick canvas cloth against a wall. Only the motorcycles in fashion in the slightly lost Direville were not very popular, and, as a rule, many knew their owners by sight. This one definitely belonged to the owner of the «Boar and Rose» nightclub.

      The door opened surprisingly very quickly, and the big black eyes of the landlord ran in different directions. Upper lip trembled with fear, and Scanlon Dunn, with mouse-colored hair, in a black