Try it on. It’s just your size. [He throws a parcel with clothes to Slav.]
Slav unwraps the parcel.
Slav. You can’t be serious, Chopper…
Chopper. A must is a must. It’s gonna get hairy at night.
Slav changes into the police uniform, puts on the peaked cap, and puts steel handcuffs into his pocket.
Slav. I look nothing like a cop.
Chopper. We are going to check it soon.
Slav. Jacket and Moray… I don’t like these two. How come Frost knows them?
Chopper. It’s none of your affairs. Frost vouched for them.
Slav. The chumps will get off as soon as it hits the fan. You and I are sticking our necks out.
Chopper. Relax. Jacket and Kolosov are settling their personal scores.
Slav. Is it true that they are related?
Chopper. Kolosov is his stepfather. It was he who got Jacket and Moray arrested for drugs a few years ago.
Slav. What a nasty son of a bitch.
Chopper. Jacket had spent four years in jail. Meanwhile, his mother died.
Slav. The fellow had damned bad luck.
Chopper. Kolosov buried Jacket’s mother and got his grubby hands on the icon collection her granddad left to her.
Slav. How much money did Kolosov make on it?
Chopper. When Perestroika began, profiteers bid a four-room apartment in Moscow for those icons.
Slav. [Whistling.] And where is this collection now? [Opening the door of a wardrobe and groping around inside.]
Chopper. In the old Kolosov’s apartment. The roost is alarmed. We are going to find out the password and take the icons without a big fuss. Karen the cracksman is already there.
Artyom with the uncased rifle and Moray enter. Slav closes the wardrobe door, Artyom and Moray notice him.
Moray. Jiggers! Cops! [He takes off towards the exit, stumbles, and falls. Then he sees that Artyom and Chopper don’t run away and keeps sitting by the door.]
Chopper. [Giving a laugh and coughing.] You do! You do look like a cop, Slav.
Scene 3
Midday. The stage setting is the same as in Scene 1.
Fyodor is sitting on the terrace. Some light snacks are served on the table. Venya leaves the house.
Venya. I might have just dropped and broken a mug from your collection. [He shows a jug with a broken handle to Fyodor.]
Fyodor. Venya, don’t sweat it. It’s a cheapie.
Venya. Looks pretty.
Fyodor. It’s a replica of an Infantry reservist jug. I’ve never even drunk from the original one myself, put it on to a shelf.
Venya. It’s a shame anyway.
Fyodor. Put it on the table. You’re going to hurt yourself.
Venya. [Carefully putting the broken jug on the table.] You have some beautiful icons inside. Are those the ones from your collection?
Fyodor. Those are copies, Venya. The collection itself is kept in safety, alarmed.
Venya. Gotcha. I figured as much.
Pause.
Venya. How can Alexey take a steam bath so early in the morning?
Fyodor. He is used to it. Has a healthy heart.
Venya. I can’t stand this humidity. My Zodiac is a fire sign. [He sits down at the table.]
Fyodor. A fire sign? Do you believe in astrology now, Venya? Does your spiritual father approve?
Venya. You know, priests and devils, they both seem the same to me as of late. I am sick of theorizing. I’m letting my hair down. First-hand experience is priceless.
Fyodor. It’s only a shame that we have to pay for this experience with our health, youth, and nerves.
Pause.
Venya. The whole life is a nasty joke. A friend of mine once came home from a business trip only to find his young wife in bed with her lover. «What are you doing here?!» The cuckold shrieked. «There you go,» his wife said to her lover. «I did tell you that my husband is an idiot.»
Alexey, fresh-faced after bathing and wrapped up in a bathrobe, comes out of the banya behind the house and walks along the path towards them.
Alexey. You’re telling Fyodor about Galina, your third wife, aren’t you? [Coming up to the table and noticing the broken jug.] Who smashed such a cool jug? Ah! I seem to know the answer.
Venya. It is because of men like you, pampered sticklers for cleanliness, that wives deceive their husbands!
Venya stands up, takes the broken jug, and goes inside. Alexey laughs after him.
Fyodor. Alexey, leave him alone, for Heaven’s sake.
Alexey. Venya is a bungler and loser. It’s a fact.
Fyodor. Veniamin never had luck with women. He is suffering, poor wretch.
Alexey. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.
Fyodor. It’s baloney! Dogs can learn at any age, especially when they are hungry.
Alexey. Have you heard the news? Venya even took a life-couching course.
Fyodor. He asked me to join him too. Positive thinking is in fashion now.
Alexey. These shamanic dances are just like drugs.
Fyodor. Everybody’s got to make a living.
Alexey. Some mysterious forces crank out these smooth-talking shamans who brainwash the common people. They create a temporary illusion of inner peace and self-confidence, get the gullible idiots motivated. They fill the hearts of losers like Venya with joy and their lives with struggles. This irrational joy and faith in the glorious future can later play a dirty trick and make their lives miserable.
Fyodor. Is it even possible that grown men buy into this?
Alexey. The examples are around us! Now our Veniamin dreams of retiring as soon as possible, marrying a rich French madame against all the odds, and traveling around the globe. He even has a French teacher now.
Fyodor. As for me, I don’t have to wait for a miracle or retirement to change my life for the better. And it’s never too late to find love.
Alexey. You, Fyodor, are in a romantic mood today, I see.
Fyodor. Come off it.
Alexey. You haven’t fallen in love at your age, have you?
Fyodor. What next!
Alexey. I saw you a week ago in the city. You were walking together with a young mysterious