Arkady’s eye was caught by the fax again. The machine had buttons in English—for example, Redial. Gingerly he lifted the phone and pushed the button. The receiver produced tones, a ring, a voice.

“Feldman.”

“I’m calling for Rudy Rosen,” Arkady said.

“Why can’t he call himself?”

“I’ll explain when we talk.”

“You didn’t call to talk?”

“We should meet.”

“I don’t have time.”

“It’s important.”

“I’ll tell you what’s important. They’re going to shut the Lenin Library. It’s collapsing. They’re turning off the lights, locking the rooms. It’s going to be a tomb, like the pyramids at Giza.”

Arkady was surprised that anyone associated with Rudy cared about the state of the Lenin Library. “We still have to talk.”

“I work late.”

“Anytime.”

“Outside the library, tomorrow at midnight.”

“Midnight?”

“Unless the library comes down on top of me.”

“Let me just check the phone number.”

“Feldman. F-e-l-d-m-a-n. Professor Feldman.” He recited the number and hung up.

Arkady set the receiver down. “Terrific machine.”

Minin had a bitter laugh for one so young. “The forensic bastards will strip this place and we could use a fax.”

“No, we leave everything, especially the fax.”

“Food and liquor, too?”

“Everything.”

The second sweeper’s eyes grew larger. The magnetic force of guilt made her stare at pearls of vanilla ice cream that traced a trail in the Oriental carpet to the refrigerator and back.

Minin whipped open the freezer door. “She ate the ice cream while our backs were turned. And the chocolate’s gone.”

“Olga Semyonovna!” The first sweeper was also shocked.

The accused lifted her hand from a pocket and seemed to sink at the knees as if the weight of the incriminating chocolate bar were too much. Tears coursed down the folds of her cheeks and dropped from her trembling chin as if she had stolen a silver cup off an altar. Terrific, Arkady thought, we’ve made an old woman cry over candy. How could she not succumb? Chocolate was an exotic myth, a whiff of history, like the Aztecs.

“Well, what do you think?” Arkady asked Minin. “Should we arrest her, not arrest her but beat her, or just let her go? It would be more serious if she had taken the sour cream, too. But I want to know your opinion.” Arkady really was curious to learn how zealous his assistant was.

“I suppose,” Minin said finally, “we can let her go this time.”

“If you think so.” Arkady turned to the women and said, “Citizens, that means you both will have to help the organs of the law a little more.”