*
“To Ukraine!” proposed Mladen, told the news.
Viktor drank, though feeling that Ukraine had very little to do with the present festivities. Excusing himself, he went below, and returning, stood and proposed a toast.
“To my parents, now dead, and to you, Vesna’s father!” A clinking of glasses. “And in recognition of the wonderful woman you’ve made of her, a small present …” He handed Mladen his gold brick.
At a loss for words but smiling broadly, Mladen took it.
“Not just for me, but for the family,” he said. “You don’t know yet, but we have a house large enough for all of us. My brothers have bought us a restaurant, and this” – he touched the gold – “shall be your future. We’ll live in amity together. I’ll teach you my father’s trade. Baking. We all need bread. With this we’ll buy a bakery, and ensure you and Vesna and my grandchildren a good life.”
“Good money in baking, and I’m used to heat,” Seva had said, and Viktor looked across at Misha as if to ask, “Remember Chechnya?”
“And Misha – can he be dropped off in the Antarctic?” Viktor asked.
“Not in the Antarctic, but where we pass islands with penguins, yes, I give my word.”
EPILOGUE
A month later they anchored off a large island where any number of inquisitive penguins gathered on the cliff to watch them.
It was blowing hard, and before releasing Misha to chilly freedom, Viktor dialled his flat and to his amazement got straight through.
“Sonya, can you hear me?”
“No need to shout. Where are you? The Antarctic?”
“Very near. Misha’s about to leave us.”
“Give him a big kiss from me. Oh, they’ve been ringing you from work. Auntie Nina says I’m going to have a little brother or sister. And Uncle Lyosha’s got a car. He’s a champion now. Got his gold medal hanging up. He’s off to a tournament in Bulgaria.”
“Good. Love to everyone. I’ll ring in a week or so.”
Pocketing his mobile and squatting, he kissed the top of Misha’s head.
“That’s from Sonya who loves you very much.” Misha nodded, looking Viktor squarely in the eye, then turned to watch the other penguins diving cleanly into the sea. And after one last look at the four of them, he too dived cleanly in without so much as a splash.
BERLIN – PARIS – KIEV – LAZAREVKA 2002
ANDREY KURKOV is a Ukrainian writer born in St. Petersburg, Russia, in 1961. After graduating from the Kiev Foreign Languages Institute, he resisted pressure to become a KGB translator for his military service and instead opted to serve as a prison warder in Odessa. Afterwards, he worked as a journalist and film cameraman, then borrowed money to self-publish his first books, which he sold himself on the sidewalks of Kiev. He is now one of the most popular and critically acclaimed writers in Ukrainian history, and his books have been translated into 25 languages.
GEORGE BIRD has translated extensively from German and Russian. In 1986 he won the Pluto Crime Prize for his novel Death in Leningrad.
MELVILLE INTERNATIONAL CRIME
Kismet
Jakob Arjouni
978-1-935554-23-3
Happy Birthday, Turk!
Jakob Arjouni
978-1-935554-20-2
More Beer
Jakob Arjouni
978-1-935554-43-1
One Man, One Murder
Jakob Arjouni
978-1-935554-54-7
The Craigslist Murders
Brenda Cullerton
978-1-61219-019-8
Death and the Penguin
Andrey Kurkov
978-1-935554-55-4
Penguin Lost
Andrey Kurkov
978-1-935554-56-1
The Case of the
General’s Thumb
Andrey Kurkov
978-1-61219-060-0
Nairobi Heat
Mukoma Wa Ngugi
978-1-935554-64-6
He Died with His Eyes Open
Derek Raymond
978-1-935554-57-8
The Devil’s Home on Leave
Derek Raymond
978-1-935554-58-5
How the Dead Live
Derek Raymond
978-1-935554-59-2
I Was Dora Suarez
Derek Raymond
978-1-935554-60-8
Dead Man Upright
Derek Raymond
978-1-61219-062-4
Cut Throat Dog
Joshua Sobol
978-1-935554-21-9
The Angst-Ridden Executive
Manuel Vázquez Montalbán
978-1-61219-038-9
Murder in the Committee
Manuel Vázquez Montalbán
978-1-61219-036-5
The Buenos Aires Quintet
Manuel Vázquez Montalbán
978-1-61219-034-1
Penguin Lost Page 22