Letters from beyond - Тигрис Рафаэль Страница 8

Unaware that a pair of male eyes loaded with morning lust were watching her, she took off her nightgown and twirled around in her panties, admiring her own body and the jewelry she had been given. From this, Robert's unsatisfied flesh, which had been fairly refreshed during the night, began to inflame.

A woman admiring herself in front of a mirror is a dangerous phenomenon. Moreover, it doesn’t matter who she is: a socialite or a gray mouse, a beauty or a fearful person, it doesn’t matter at all. Everyone is equal in front of the mirror, because they are subjected to the same magical process — self-affirmation and self-praise.

In Pushkin's famous fairy tale, the stepmother looks in the mirror and says, “Tell the mirror, tell the whole truth. Who in the world is sweeter, more beautiful and whiter than everyone? And the stupid mirror agrees with her — "you are more beautiful, no doubt."

In this fairy tale one to one, as in ordinary life.

Despite the fact that the mirror reflects the real appearance, women see only what they want to see — their beauty! And it doesn't matter if there is one or not, the process of self-affirmation works wonders.

"But I'm just beautiful!" — this is the main conclusion that they come to, standing in front of a mirror.

And God forbid, if a husband, friend, partner or just a male is hanging around. A woman who has asserted herself in the mirror looks at him with contempt and says:

“Well, is this nonentity worthy of me?”

Just such a process was now taking place with the naked Monika standing in front of the mirror in all its glory.

Meanwhile, Robert cautiously approached from behind and pressed his whole body, grabbed her elastic breasts.

— Carefully! You will break the chain of the pendant! — Monica yelled indignantly.

— To hell with the pendant. You are beautiful even without diamonds! — answered Robert and began to kiss her on the neck.

This time, Monica grabbed her ears, and Robert realized that the wounds from the puncture would not allow him to continue the morning sex.

Monica's eyes changed. After talking with Kshesinskaya and under the influence of her gifts, there was no trace left of the former cute gray mouse. Now standing in front of Robert was a young woman who already knew the value of her charm.

Bad news in the big city spreads slowly but inexorably. All day, Robert and Monica, without leaving their Paris hotel room, being under the fresh impressions of communicating with Kshesinskaya, wrote an extensive article, and when they went out to go to dinner, they were overtaken by the news of her death.

— She died last night. Asleep with a happy smile and did not wake up, — Marek reported to Robert.

He looked reproachfully at the doctor.

— Did you prick her with something?

— Well, as usual, — Marek replied, looking away.

There were a lot of people at Kshesinskaya's funeral, mostly representatives of the Russian emigration of the first wave. They talked about her talent, about the outgoing old era.

Josephine and Marek stood with mournful faces, and if the doctor sometimes expressed true sadness, then a spark of joy slipped in Josephine's eyes.

After the death of Kshesinskaya, Robert realized that his reportage was becoming even more relevant, and he and Monika began to draw it up faster.

But two days after the funeral of Matilda, another terrible news spread around the city. During the night, Dr. Marek died suddenly of a heart attack. Robert was friendly with him and went straight to the police station to find out the details. Here, as a journalist, he was provided with detailed information.

Dr. Marek never complained about his heart. However, on that day, he and Josephine made love, and so intensely that at the peak of pleasure the doctor's heart could not stand it and froze forever.

The police let Robert read the conclusion of the forensic expert — no signs of violent death and poisoning were found. The conclusion was unequivocal — heart failure.

It is very possible that during sex- games, blindfolding her partner, she injected him at the peak of pleasure with an exorbitant dose of a heart drug that the doctor always had at hand.

Only Robert came to terms with the death of Marek, as the next day he read in the morning newspapers: on the Paris-Nice highway, a well-known emigrant in Polish circles, Josephine Kshesinskaya, died in a car accident. The probable cause of the accident is a malfunction of the car's braking system.

This news has already alarmed Robert in earnest. Campaigners are dying one by one, as if they are being pursued by evil fate. And now, for some reason, the brakes of Josephine's car failed, when for some reason she rushed to Nice. But just a week ago they gathered in Kshesinskaya's house and, not suspecting anything, had fun talking and talking.

At another time, Robert would have launched an immediate journalistic investigation into these strange deaths, but now he was not up to it. Now his intuition told him that his life was in danger.

With such gloomy thoughts, Robert returned to the hotel and in his hearts threw the newspaper on the bed, where Monica still lay asleep.

— Of the entire campaign, only you and I remained. We need to urgently leave this city, — said Robert.

But Monica didn't seem to agree with that decision. The expression of disappointment on her face spoke of it.

— Something is wrong? — Robert was surprised.

At that moment there was a knock on the door and a messenger boy entered the room.

— Parcel for Mademoiselle Monica.

— From whom?

— It's all there.

Robert gave the messenger a tip, and Monica immediately began to open the package.