Ход королевы
Chapter 9
”
“What’sbetter?”
“It’sbettertobeBlackifyou’regoingtoloseit.”
“Isupposeso.”
“What’dyouplay?Sicilian?”
Shegentlysetthepackageofcigarettesbackonthechairarm.“RuyLopez.Ilethimdoittome.”
“Mistake,”Beltiksaid.“Look,I’minLexingtonforthesummer.Wouldyoulikesometraining?”
“Training?”
“Iknow.You’rebetterthanme.Butifyou’regoingtoplayRussians,you’llneedhelp.”
“Whereareyou?”
“AtthePhoenixHotel.I’mmovingtoanapartmentThursday.”
Shelookedaroundtheroomforamoment,atthestackofMrs.Wheatley’swomen’smagazinesonthecobbler’sbench,thepale-bluedrapesonthewindows,theoversizedceramiclampswiththecellophanestillwrappedaroundtheiryellowingshades.Shetookinalongbreathandletitoutsilently.“Comeonover,”shesaid.
Hedroveuptwentyminuteslaterina1955Chevroletwithred-and-blackflamespaintedonthefendersandabrokenheadlamp,pullinguptothecurbattheendofthepatterned-brickwalk.Shehadbeenwatchingforhimfromthewindowandwasonthefrontporchwhenhegotoutofthecar.Hewavedatherandwenttothetrunk.Hewaswearingabright-redshirtandgraycorduroypantswithapairofsneakersthatmatchedtheshirt.Therewassomethingdarkandquickabouthim,andBeth,rememberinghisbadteethandhisfiercewayofplayingchess,feltherselfstiffenalittleatthesightofhim.
Hebentoverthetrunkandliftedoutacardboardbox,clearlyheavy,tossedthehairoutofhiseyesandcameupthewalk.
