This phrase I’ve heard not once from conversations between Russians in Afghanistan, but its hidden sense remained incomprehensible for me. I decided to use the chance, and asked Eugene to explain it, using some western analogues of this saying. He kept silent for a while, looking at street landscape behind the window, but then, as though remembering something, selecting words slowly he uttered:

You have such analogue. Do you know, Watson, something about the magic of “monkey’s paw”?

No, Eugene, – I became alert at once, because I remembered the fragment of the third “picnic”, – my profession always made me keep far from any kinds of magic, and all the more – of monkey’s one.

The face of my companion became alive again, and returned the expression of lenient patronizing, characteristic to a person who is used to teach people around him.

One of your writers, Jacobs, if I’m not mistaken, wrote a story, called “Monkey’s paw”, by the subject of which the owner of dried monkey’s paw obtain the right for fulfilling three desires of him. Thus, for example, the owner of the paw expresses his first desire – ₤200 immediately. The next moment a firm officer comes and reports him that his son is killed and hands him the compensation for his son – ₤200. The unhappy father wants to see his son here and now. Knock at doors – the ghost of his son enters. Poor owner of the paw desires in horror that the ghost must disappear. In other words, the effect of “monkey’s paw” means that besides the expected positive results your unrestrained desires and deeds, tended to realize them, inevitably lead to consequences, the harm of which excels the positive result and lessens the its value. In Russian this version of ruling is described by the saying: What we were fought for has been out undoing.

And what concerns the above-mentioned Predictor, which you’re interested in – there always were plenty of odd men in Russia. These strange people write in Russian language such way, that a person with elite higher education, who has his own unordinary scientific works, simply can’t understand this delirium: and there’s nothing to break your head over for, because almost everything they say is more or less trivial or goes without saying. So don’t interfere into it, nice, naïve Watson. Please, don’t consider my words familiarity, but you’re really nice and naïve: your level of Russian and understanding of Predictor’s materials – are incompatible subjects. So, now I should say “good bye” to you, Watson. Excuse me; I’m in a hurry. I hope, we’ll meet later and speak about Russian affairs, if you don’t mind, of course.

He stretched his flabby and moist palm of the hand to me and hurried to the exit.

It seems like I was dealing with true Trotskyite today, – I thought. And how should I understand his summing up at the end: from one side – delirium incomprehensible to well-educated people, and from the other side – all there is trivial? From one side – “don’t interfere into it”, and from the other – “we’ll meet again and speak about Russian affairs”? “The grape is green…” or “what we were fought for has been our undoing”? Or, may be, I should invite John to the next meeting, who was my partner in the University rowing eight, and who became flabby since then, but also became the prosperous psychiatrist?

It was clear, that to ask this strange Galba about “picnics” was senseless. I could see from his eyes that he was not pretending and so simply didn’t react on my hints-remarks. Well, but what does it mean then? In effect, he told me everything, at least about two first “picnics”. But at the same time I was sure – he knows nothing about the pictures from “picnics”. What should I think: either I was conversing with some extraordinary actor, or…? I was at a loss, but at the same time felt, that I encountered by chance with what Holmes was significantly hinting before his departure.

My head was dizzying. The more I tried to leaf through the issues touched in our conversation, the less I understood what had happened. And this plane, fallen in the Black Sea right in the eighth anniversary of completing the second picnic? I cast a glance at a public in a bar. Besides the counter Hopkins was standing still, this time with a lady of indefinite age. The waiter approached. I paid the bill, and came to Hopkins to thank him for the meeting.

Well, what do you think about my Galba?

Interesting fellow, it seems, that he says less than he knows.

Or more than understands, – significantly smiled Hopkins at parting. – If you’ll have any problems, call me, Watson. Always at your disposal.

Thank you, Hopkins. See you later.

The last remark of Hopkins I ignored, and as future events showed, I wasn’t right doing this.

All the evening I was restoring in my memory our conversation with Galba, trying not to lose any detail, and only after that I put the “picnics” on my desk, and also copies of the backsides of appropriate newspaper pages with the lists of films. There were no doubts. Eugene told me everything about the first and second “picnics” and even touched the third a little, knowing nothing about it, as if by the way. I started to guess vaguely, that both pictures represent something like the plan of some event by prepared in advance, may be, multi-versioned, script. But, however, the first plan was successfully realized; the second (and it was noticed by Eugene too) was going somehow wrong. But who could describe them with such scrupulosity and even in pictures, two months before the supposed event? And how can one plan serious events having two years ahead? Well, let us assume, that someone can, but how could he got rid of the effect of “monkey’s paw” in the course of realizing his plans?

I was ready to have a conversation with Holmes. Tomorrow will be two weeks after he’s left for Switzerland, and since that time there was not a single call from him, not a single e-mail letter, and I need his aid so much for moving forward in our investigation. This very moment the telephone rang.

Good evening, Watson! How are you getting on with our “picnics”?

Where do you call me from, Holmes? I was just addressing you in my thoughts. It looks like some mystics!

No mystics, Watson. Ordinary telepathy: all of us, who don’t resist it, are instinctive telepaths. I’m calling from Madrid, and I’m going to warn you, that perhaps my business will delay my return for one more week. Were you successful in understanding Russian rebus?

Yes, Holmes, it seems to me, that I understood something in two first “picnics”, but the third is a more hard nut, and I’ll hardly crack it without your aid.

Fine, Watson. I wasn’t wasting time too. I can say that necessary information finds you by itself, if you go in for necessary activity in time. Have you seen today in the latest news report about the crash of Russian airliner TU-154, and have you managed to learn something about the events on September 7? I mean not only 1994, but other years too.

Yes, Holmes, I’ve heard about the tragedy on the Black Sea, but haven’t seen it by myself, for I haven’t turned on my TV set yet. And the affairs of September 7 I haven’t even touched, I simply had no time for it. Mostly I was studying books and notes you’ve left for me, but I promise you, that I will do it necessarily. I remember about “Queen of Picks”.

Thank you, Watson. Tomorrow I’m flying for Cairo, and if everything is all right, by the end of the week I’ll be in London. In any case, we’ll meet the next Saturday, and I’m sure, we have a lot to talk over! Good-bye, Watson, see you soon!

Good-bye, Holmes, I’m looking forward to see you.

I hanged the receiver. The clock was beating midnight. There were a lot of reasons to be deeply thoughtful. I turned on the TV automatically, absently listening to the last news by NBC: USA Army is preparing to the operation in Afghanistan; some details of investigating the tragedy in New York and Washington, demands for the extradition of Bin Ladin – everything as usual. Aha! Versions about the causes of the crash of TU-154. On the screen there appeared a map of the Black Sea with the coordinates of liner’s falling at it. I don’t know why, but I copied them: 42°11' of northern latitude and 37°37' of eastern longitude. Also it was reported that the plane fell 182 km to the west of Sochi at 13.44 by Moscow time. There were 11 crewmembers and 6 passengers aboard, among them: 51 Israel citizens, 15 Russian citizens. 11 bodies of 77 people perished are being found yet. Recording almost automatically the numbers from the screen, I watched the shots of news items from Novosibirsk and Tel-Aviv: faces, distorted with woe, and patter of swift commentators, the most part of which were inclined towards the version of terrorist act. Before me on the table the pictures of “picnics” were lying. My glance unintentionally stopped at the “Post Historical Picnic”, where on the black background of the “Swan Lake” under the frightening face with the inscription on its forehead: ”Bank Krot”, there floated the huge dead fish with its stomach upwards. From the notes of Internal Predictor I’ve already learnt, that the epoch of biblical civilization, whose symbol was a fish, comes to an end. 11 dead bodies on the surface of the Black Sea in the points with coordinates of 42.11 and 37.37. I started to be afraid that a mysticism of numerical magic was seizing me: the number 42 associated with 42 years of Jewish wandering along the desert, and 11? Oh! It was associated with plenty of materials I’ve collected in recent time. For example: there were 22 hierophants in the “Historical Picnic”. They divided into two groups, 11 men in each, and governed the southern and the northern parts of ancient Egypt; and the day of truncation of the head of John the Baptist, which was indeed the September 11; and Hitler’s speech on the party congress in Nuremberg on September 11, 1935; and the foundation of Pentagon building in Washington, September 11, 1941; and putsch of Pinochet in Chile, September, 11, 1973, who is considered by some people a fascist, by others – a democrat, defending his country from maintaining of the fascist tyranny under the banners of Marxism. Isn’t it what Holmes meant, when he was speaking about numerical measure? But the numerical measure of what? Perhaps, it’s what we’ll have to investigate.