“Well, it’s nothing special, really. But it does kind of fall outside the everyday routine. This morning, about the same time you left the airport, something unpleasant happened to this police patrol and inspection unit. One polizei, Dmitry Pastukhov, went off to the privy but he didn’t move fast enough. And the other one . . . a little while later the other one walked into the duty office and put his holster, ID, and walkie-talkie on the desk. Said he’d lost interest in working for the forces of law and order and left. His bosses haven’t even informed anyone yet. They’re hoping he’ll change his mind and come back.”

“Let’s go,” I said

“Which one first?”

“The one who didn’t run fast enough.”

“No need to go anywhere, then. I told you—he got washed and changed and went back to his post.”

At first glance there was no way of telling that this morning police officer Dmitry Pastukhov had found himself in such a delicate and—why pretend otherwise?—embarrassing situation. Except that his uniform trousers, if you looked closely, were a little too big for him, and they were a slightly different shade of gray from his tunic.

He himself, however, was looking quite magnificent. Inspired, you might say. Like a militiaman in a children’s story who has detained a bandit at the scene of his crime and is now being presented with a watch engraved “For conspicuous valor in the line of duty” by a general. Like a test pilot who has managed to get his plane back to the airfield after its engine failed, and can feel the wheels gently touching the ground. Like a man taking a cigarette out of the pack and smiling awkwardly as he looks round at the gigantic icicle that has just crashed into the pavement at the very spot where he was walking only a moment ago . . .

Like a man who has survived deadly danger and realizes that he is still alive, but doesn’t really understand why.

Dmitry Pastukhov was sauntering about in front of the entrance to the airport building with his hands clasped behind his back in nonregulation style, gazing around with a good-natured, friendly air.

But as Las and I came closer a quite different expression appeared on the policeman’s face.