Ход королевы

           TheboxsaidHEINZTOMATOKETCHUPinredletters;itwasopenatthetopandfilledwithbooks.

           Hesetitontheliving-roomrugandunceremoniouslytookMrs.Wheatley’smagazinesfromthecoffeetableandslippedthemintothemagazinerack.Hebegantakingbooksoutoftheboxoneatatime,readingoffthetitlesandpilingthemonthetable.“A.L.Deinkopf,MiddleGameStrategy;J.R.Capablanca,MyChessCareer;Fornaut,Alekhine’sGames1938–1945;Meyer,RookandPawnEndings.”

           Someofthemwerebooksshehadseenbefore;afewofthemsheowned.Butmostwerenewtoher,heavy-lookinganddepressingtosee.Sheknewtherewereagreatmanythingssheneededtoknow.ButCapablancahadalmostneverstudied,hadplayedonintuitionandhisnaturalgifts,whileinferiorplayerslikeBogolubovandGrünfeldmemorizedlinesofplaylikeGermanpedants.Shehadseenplayersattournamentaftertheirgameshadended,sittingmotionlessinuncomfortablechairsoblivioustotheworld,studyingopeningvariationsormiddle-gamestrategyorendgametheory.Itwasendless.SeeingBeltikmethodicallyremovingoneheavybookafteranother,shefeltwearyanddisoriented.SheglancedoverattheTV:apartofherwantedtoturnitonandforgetchessforever.

           “Mysummer’sreading,”Beltiksaid.

           Sheshookherheadirritably.“Istudybooks.ButI’vealwaystriedtoplayitbyear.”

           Hestopped,holdingthreecopiesofShakhmatniByulleteninhishands,theircoverswornwithuse,frowningather.“LikeMorphy,”hesaid,“orCapablanca?”

           Shewasembarrassed.“Yes.