I stood in the middle of the lab, staring blankly at the door and then out of the window, though there was nothing to see either: all I could see were the huge old linden trees and the gray fence of the institute. Then suddenly, I seemed to come to my senses and I immediately rushed out of the lab: it’s better to listen to all sorts of questions than to hang around here alone. There was no one in the hallway, so I slipped into the buffet and drank two cups of black coffee. Zina, the barmaid, continued to look at me sympathetically and sigh, and after the second cup, she quietly called out to me from behind the counter and mysteriously waved to me. I reluctantly got up and approached her, and Zina informed me in a conspiratorial whisper that she happened to have an open bottle of cognac, that cognac puts strength back into you, and is generally good for the health.

— In moderation, of course, — she added.

I really did feel like having something stronger, but I hesitated: at work, and especially on a day like this … Linkov would probably come again … But it was the thought of Linkov, that made me decide: I felt, I couldn’t bear any more conversation today without it, and if Linkov notices anything, so be it.

— Thank you, Zinochka! — I said with forced animation. — Cognac – that’s just right, you guessed it
The cognac turned out to be surprisingly good, and it really did perk me up. I strode into the lab quite briskly and ran into Linkov just outside the door.

We entered the lab and sat down on round stools near the chronochamber, and I kept wondering whether to tell him about Nina in general and this conversation of hers with Arkady in particular. I hadn’t decided yet, but Linkov started asking me about something else: how long ago I’d met Arkady and how our relationship had developed. I told him everything as it had been: that we’d worked separately for a while until the Institute of Time was founded, and since then we’d been in very close working and friendly contact for almost two years.

— But over the last period, as I understand, you’ve grown somewhat distant? — said Linkov, glancing at his notebook. — Since about April, if I’m not mistaken?

I realized that he’d already found out about Nina and me, – well, it’s no secret, everyone knew.

— Yes, our relationship has changed a little, — I said defiantly — but didn't quarrel, and there was no tragedy in it whatsoever. And anyway, Nina had nothing to do with it!

Linkov looked at me and smiled slightly — just with the corners of his lips.

— I believe you, you shouldn’t have gotten so worked up, — he said in his sympathetic tone. — Do you think I'm blaming you for not telling me right away about … well, about this personal relationship? But I saw the state you were in. You’re still not yourself, of course, so there’s no need to get worked up. I know, you and Levitsky continued working together, and outwardly everything was pretty much the same. But you drifted apart, which is natural and inevitable under such circumstances, at least at first. You were already spending your free time apart, right? That’s why I wanted to ask, whether you know how exactly Levitsky spent his free time?

I shook my head silently. I imagined Arkady — all alone, without me. After all, we’d been inseparable for two years… It’s true, at first Arkady began slipping away more and more — for the same reason. I’d spend my evenings in the lab, and he’d go off with Nina. But Arkady always showed up at the lab afterwards. Even if it was just for an hour, he’d come. I might have done the same, but Nina explained right away that Arkady didn’t truly love her, never spent an entire evening with her, always yearning to get to the lab, and I couldn’t behave myself like that. And then, it was hard for me to part with her in the middle of the evening. And besides, I thought: Arkady was already upset that I was hanging around under his nose all day long … So, I was with Nina and Arkady stayed alone. No, of course, I didn’t think he could poison himself because of this. I still didn’t believe he’d committed suicide, and I was angry with Linkov precisely because I thought, he was sticking to the suicide theory, which was why he’d brought up the Nina story.

— But he had friends besides you, didn’t he? — Linkov continued — Perhaps he’d made new friends lately? Don’t you know anything?

— Practically nothing, — I said sullenly, ashamed. — I was his closest friend, just as he was mine, the others were all much more distant. You could even say, they weren’t even friends anymore, just acquaintances, workmates and all that. As for recent times, I don’t know. For example, Arkady spent the May Day holidays with the maintenance workers; he went out of town with them. He probably has someone there — most likely a girlfriend …

— And you didn’t meet him with anyone during that time?

— At least, it weren’t strangers. And no one regularly or even frequently — I would have noticed that for sure.

— Was he withdrawn, unsociable?

— No! He was cheerful, lively, sociable. But when he gets absorbed in his work, he doesn’t need anyone.

— And that was exactly such a period, if I understand correctly?

— Yes … And the fact that I seemed to be less interested in it…

— You already mentioned personal motives, that’s understandable… But, by the way, about these motives. You said, that Levitsky had a rather harsh and sharp character, that he was not particularly patient. So, I can assume that Levitsky openly expressed his attitude towards… this story?

— He never said a word to me about it, — I replied immediately. — And I didn't say anything to him, either. Actually, you misunderstood me: Arkady was sharp and outspoken mainly on work matters — well, in scientific discussions. He didn’t like to talk about personal matters. Well, he had practically no personal matters.

— How is that? — wondered Linkov politely. — Even the preschoolers have some personal matters

— One may suppose the preschoolers are less devoted to their work , — I replied discontentedly: I didn’t like Linkov’s attempt at humor.

— That’s quite likely — agreed Linkov. — So, you think, that Levitsky spent most of his evenings here?

— I don’t think so, I just know. We were working on the series together. At one point, I spent more time in the lab, and the last month — he.

— I see… — Linkov thought. — What I still don’t understand is: did Levitsky share his worries with at least you, as his closest friend?

— He certainly shared all his experiences with me, — I said decisively. — And our worries were mostly shared…

— I suppose, not always, — Linkov remarked with a cautious smile. — Not to mention the last period…

Of course, I exaggerated: even Siamese twins had their share of separate worries, as far as I know. But basically, I was right: those two years we devoted almost entirely to the Institute of Time, and all extraneous activities took up minimal energy. Well, of course, we skied in the winter, and swam and played volleyball in the summer; we watched movies and plays — although not very often, — we read books and magazines, not just on our specialties. Then, Arkady, for example, went away to his sister’s wedding, and my mother came to visit me twice, staying a week at a time; Arkady would occasionally have “romances”, as he called them, but soon he would begin to sigh that this Sveta (Ivetta, Asya, Rimma, and then, I remember, there was a surprisingly beautiful girl with an equally surprising name — Murchik) understood nothing about chronophysics or anything else, and that talking to her was so boring — he couldn’t stand it anymore. But, he would immediately, out of sense of fairness, point out that she did have some serious virtues: for example, her eyes were extraordinary, or she loved music, or she “swam like a god” (this was Murchik — she really was a great swimmer), — but soon the girl, with all her virtues, would quietly disappear. Arkady treated only Nina differently, right from the beginning — could it be, because she did understand chronophysics? But Nina thought that he wasn’t serious … But chronophysics was serious, it was as sure as death, it was always serious, and that was what Arkady and I had in common and found very important.

— I understand what you mean, — I wound up by declaring — but I’m absolutely certain: Arkady hasn’t kept anything from me. After all, we met at eighteen, in our first year at the Faculty of Mathematics and Physics, and since then we’ve only been apart for two years, so I know everything important in his life.

— Except for the last period, — Linkov noted thoughtfully

— This last period — is just a little over a month! — I said annoyingly — What could have happened in such a short time?

— You never know! — Linkov responded — Sometimes half an hour is enough to create a mystery that takes a year to unravel!

Of course, he was right. But I felt melancholy and fatigued again; the cognac had worn off, and it was becoming increasingly difficult for me to talk. Linkov apparently realized this. He said he'd receive the autopsy results and various analysis results by tomorrow, and then some things would become clear, and he might need to consult with me about something else.

Linkov left, and I began wandering aimlessly around the lab again, approaching the chronochamber, staring blankly at its lifeless, dark glass wall, and moving chairs for some reason…

Finally, I admitted openly to myself that I couldn't work today and had no business wandering around the lab, glancing sideways at the green sofa. "What's going to happen next?" I thought with a fleeting dread but quickly pushed the thought aside and called Shelest. He immediately said, "Yes, of course, go!" but then came to his senses and asked if the investigator needed me. I angrily informed him that comrade Linkov was fed up with me for the day and expected to regain his desire and ability to communicate with me only through a strong eight-hour sleep and proper cultural rest. Shelest chuckled vaguely and said in an official tone that he was letting me go, as there was no reason to expect me to be productive today, and if anything would happen, they’d call me.

— You’ll be back at work normally tomorrow, I hope? — he asked.

I could tell from his tone of voice that he wasn’t very hopeful, and that argered me too.

— I’ll make an effort,— I replied sullenly. — I’ll mobilise my body’s hidden reserves, if I find any.

— Alright, alright! — said Shelest conciliatorily. — We understand everything; we’re not idiots, after all, what are you so uptight about? — And added after a pause: — Come to my office tomorrow morning … No, in the morning I’ll be away at the city committee; better at the end of the day. We’ll have a little chat, okay?

— Alright, — I said, — bye!

I understood that life was life, that I couldn’t work alone in the lab and  that Shelest would probably talk with the director today about who should be moved to Arkady's place. I didn’t even want to think about who’d they send. This lab didn’t exist for me without Arkady… Better to leave quickly — maybe the fresh air would make me feel better…

I went further from the centre, wandered along quiet small green suburban streets, then decided to go to the forest park, to our favorite bench by the cliff. Arkady and I used to always go there, when something wasn’t going well. Arkady used to assure me that the area around this bench created a unique microclimate that contributed to proper resolution of chronophysics problems.

I went to the forest park, got to our bench and sat down, leaning back against its curved lattice back. The bench was dug into the ground between to dig birch trees, their lower branches hanging overhead. Arkady used to always pluck a leaf and rub it between his fingers while talking. I clearly saw how his long tanned fingers moved, rubbing the green leaf, and I closed my eyes from the sudden pain in my heart…

Below, beneath the edge, a calm river sparkled with ripples of sunlight. On the gently sloping bank, in Zarechye, among the green gardens shone white low and cozy houses. For a second, I desperately longed to be there, in one of those green courtyards with their colorful garlands of drying laundry, their colorful rugs hung on wooden fences, their lazy, majestic cats and solemn pigeons — to those places where the flow of time seemed drastically slowed, almost frozen, where everything is familiar and therefore clear and understandable. I knew that it was just a facade, that nobody could hide from time, that it would drag you along anyway, and even the simplest life isn’t so clear and rational, and yet…

— No, there’s nowhere to run, — I said to myself , — and even if there was somewhere, then what?  Your friend is dead and you will not even try to find out why it happened. Are you a scientist or not? Are you able to think logically in all possible circumstances or this ability of yours appears only due to your job role in suitable conditions?

I stood up; walked back and forth; sat down again, but no longer leaned back on the bench; and took a purely working position — bent over and began drawing with a twig on the sandy patch at my feet.

— Okay, — I said out loud, having made sure that nobody was nearby, — let's try to lay out the facts we know first. There aren’t many, but they still exist, and there are contradictions between them, too.

I stopped thinking out loud after that. Instead, drawing a line in the sand with a twig, I tried to construct some kind of chain of events in my mind. So, Arkady died from a lethal dose of sleeping pills. An accident is clearly ruled out. Firstly, Arkady only needed one pill to fall asleep; he couldn’t have accidentally swallowed several packs. Secondly, as Linkov rightly pointed out, sleeping pills are generally taken not at work, but at home. Furthermore, if this is a suicide, then the motives are completely unclear. It’s also unclear why Arkady didn’t leave a note — why, really? He didn’t do it out of the blue, did he? Besides, everything I know about Arkady makes it hard to believe it was suicide. But more on that later.
If it’s not suicide or an accident, then that leaves murder. There’s a lot that speaks against that. First of all, the complete absence of any fight traces, the peaceful position in which Arkady was found. And how can someone even force another sane adult person to swallow such a handful of pills? And in addition, make him lie down for about half an hour, so the toxin will work? How is it possible? Hypnosis, or something? Well, it’s just a crazy idea. How this hypnotist will get there and … all this… Eliminated.

Hypothesis No. 2 on this matter: Arkady was given something to drink laced with a sleeping pill. We won’t speculate for now about who did it and why. Let’s consider the very possibility of this option.

There were apparently more than fifty pills. Whether they can be dissolved in water is unknown. But even if they do, they’re bitter, like wormwood. If you dissolve them in wine or vodka… What drinks have a bitter taste? Vermouth. Maybe some liqueurs. There’s also this pepper vodka and something else; I forgot, but it even has red pepper pods floating in it. Okay, but why on Earth would Arkady drink vodka at the institute? Why on earth, why on earth … Who knows! You yourself drank cognac during work hours today…

Now to the question: who could have done this? This question is probably related to another: why did Arkady need to throw me out of the lab? The simplest and most natural explanation is that Arkady had arranged a meeting with someone in our lab right after the end of the workday and was therefore in a hurry to get rid of me. Okay, but why then, at quarter past five, about twelve minutes after I left, was the lab locked and Arkady absent? And why did he lock the lab anyway? We never lock it when we’re only going out for a short time, and Arkady — even counting the two-three minutes he spent talking to Nina — was gone for no more than fifteen minutes. Now: Where and for what could he have gone? Let’s say he ran to tell that the lab was free. Why didn’t he call? Obviously, because this person works in a room without a phone. That would have already limited the search scope. By the way, who was still at the institute this evening? Oh well, we’ll figure that out later; for now let’s think further.

Nina met Arkady on the side stairs; he was returning to the lab. Clearly, he could have been coming from the chronochamber room or the yard. What could he possibly need in the chronochamber room? Only cable crew works there. What matters could Arkady have had with the cable guys? And they work only till four on the dot. Let’s say one of them stayed late specifically to treat Arkady to a sleeping liquor… Who? Why? What nonsense! Yes, but the whole story is complete nonsense…

Wait… If Nina wasn’t mistaken and Arkady really was wearing a new suit, then maybe he ran off to change? If he had arranged a date … But who would think of hiding a new suit in the chronochamber room?! It’s dirty and trashy, like a construction site, with pipes lying around, cables, and torn-up crates, and there’s work going on all the time. And why would Arkady hide his suit anywhere anyway? Who would stop him from showing up to work in his finest attire? We don’t work in a mine or a field, and besides, we wear lab coats … No, that theory just doesn’t make sense! Either Nina was mistaken, or, more likely, I didn’t notice Arkady wearing a new suit. I should ask Linkov what Arkady was wearing. It would also be possible to go to Arkady’s apartment and see what suits are hanging in his closet. If everything is in place, that means he’s wearing something new…

Then I jumped up and rushed toward the exit of the park, to the tram line: a heavy rain was beginning. Luckily, the tram seemed to be waiting for me; I plopped down on a vacant seat by the window and continued my amateurish analysis. The rain pounded the windows with fury — the first rain of the season, and look what kind!

Next version: Arkady was not in a chronochamber room but was going out in the yard. Where? Well, obviously, he went to the other building, to our maintenance people. He spent the May Day holidays with them, so he must have some connections there. Linkov has probably already found out some of those things. Yeah … well… I’ll have a ton of questions by tomorrow’s meeting!

So, let’s say it was one of the maintenance workers. Where did he go after that? Maybe he simply left through the gatehouse? … But when? If it was already after five-thirty, he must have been wary of being noticed. Besides, starting at six o'clock, a guard is posted outside the maintenance building — another witness in case of anything… But that’s not important: the killer could have entered the main building right after Arkady. Right. And the sleeping pills? I mean, a drink with pills? Did he bring any booze with him? Anything is possible, of course… No, that doesn’t work! If he simply brought a bottle of pepper vodka or something else, then that means he would have to dissolve the pills in a glass in front of Arkady. Nonsense! And if he had dissolved everything in a bottle beforehand, he would have had to persuade Arkady to drink the entire contents alone. That’s also unthinkable. Only a hopeless drunk would fall for that. So what’s then? Arkady goes to this friend of his and says “The lab’s free, I’m waiting for you” The man replies: “Okay, I’ll be right there”. And, let us suppose, he immediately says; “Let’s have a drink!” Why Arkady agrees to drink, I don’t understand, – but you never know. In that case, the glasses would have been ready in advance, one already half-filled with sleeping pills dissolved in it. It can also be, that that fellow had stashed away a bottle with some rare foreign label, to entice him with exoticism and justify the strange taste. Arkady drank it off and went back. The sleeping pill starts working in about twenty to thirty minutes…

This version was turning out to be the most logical; it explained a lot. There was even no reason for the maintenance guy to visit Arkady after that! He would calmly walk out through the front gate before five-thirty, along with many other employees, and he’d have an airtight alibi. While Arkady waited and waited for him, then felt drowsy, lay down on the sofa — and never woke up again …

When I imagined it all and realized that it could have been true, it was like a fire burn. If I were to run into that cunning scoundrel now, I’d strangle him with my own hands! “Murder in the heat of passion” – is it what they call it? I’d already forgotten that the whole drinking thing was nothing more than a figment of my imagination, which could vey well turn out to be a baseless fabrication, that there was too much I didn’t know and it was too early for me ro speculate. I thirsted for revenge.

I ran across the street in the pounding rain and, shaking myself like a dog, began to make my way up the stairs – familiar stairs, that I hadn’t climbed in three weeks, or mabe even a month. I stopped on the second floor in fron of the door with a number “17”, and my fingers automatically played a “code” melody — two long rings and a short one … Then I remembered suddenly — no one would answer. It was our code doorbell, that Arkady and I agreed on. But I heard footsteps in the apartment, and I immediately felt a chill – I seemed that there, on the other side of the door, was Arkady …

Anna Nikolaevna, a neighbor, opened the door. I didn’t quite like her – she was always nagging at me for not wiping my feet properly. She looked at me intently and also sadly.

— Come in. then, — she said quietly. — Come in, Boris.

Her voice sounded cautious — as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t bring herself to, – and I realized: she already knew about Arkady’s death. They must have gotten a call from the institute.
I glanced at the hallway — and I felt so uneasy! Everything here felt so familiar: his hat hanging on the coat rack, his sneakers lying in the corner… Anna Nikolaevna was looking at me with such compassion that I’d never expected from that annoying grumbler. I was exhausted by the day, and the long logical reasoning, I had forced myself to engage in, hadn’t calmed me down at all, but rather tired me even more. I wanted to say something, but a cramp seized my throat. Using the spare key — it was still dangling on my key ring — I quickly opened the door to Arkady’s room, went in and started rubbing my throat.

The room was neat and tidy, as always. Books stood stacked on the desk. A library reference book on magnetic fields lay separately, and beneath it, “Physical Review," also from the library. I had asked Arkady the day before yesterday to bring these books to the institute. Why had he put them aside? Had he simply intended to pick them up and forgot about it? Or … or he knew I would be here … later? And suddenly it occurred to me that Arkady could leave a note here. Although, no, he couldn’t have known for sure that I’d come here, much less when I would. And anyway, why would it be at home, not in the institute or not in the lab? Still, I leafed through both books. Nothing, no note, only the paper bookmark had flown off. On it were some numbers scribbled and a crude, schematic drawing of a chronochamber. Just in case, I walked around the room, inspecting the windowsill, the nightstand by the ottoman, the bookshelves… No note, nothing special at all, everything as usual: the man tidied up the room, went to work, and planned to return that evening… or maybe not? Both of Arkady’s suits were hanging in the closet: the old dark blue one and the newer gray one. The suede jacket and gray elan trousers were gone. Of course, he wore a jacket to work; I’d seen it, I just had simply forgotten…

I stepped out. Anna Nikolaevna was still standing by the door.

— I’ll pick up some things later … like books, notes — I muttered, and then, catching myself, asked: — Anna Nikolaevna, have you noticed who’s been coming to see him lately?

— Well, practically no one… — Anna Nikolaevna answered thoughtfully. — Just one, one of yours, I guess. Dark-haired, with a mustache, he looks like the actor Raj Kapoor. He showed up right after the holidays and spent hours here; then he came back last week, and they must have had such a fight that he ran off and slammed the door; even some plastering fell off. So unattractive, so ill-mannered… And I never saw anyone else. Only if they came when I wasn’t here.

I mentally ran through Arkady's and my acquaintances — there was definitely no such guy.

— And why did you think that he was one of ours?

— Well… He was dressed nicely; he was wearing an imported Bologna raincoat, such beautiful shoes, woven like a basket… Made the parquet floor in the hallway dirty with those shoes, — Anna Nikolaevna suddenly grumbled, just as she had done to me. — And when Arkady was seeing him out, they were talking about your institute, something to do with chronophysics, I think. Well, you can tell straight away that he’s no ordinary man.

— What did he look like? Tall, short, thin, stocky? — I pressed

I simply must track this man down! Who could have been visiting Arkady at home on institute business, and on more than one occasion? And on top of that, there was some sort of argument…

— He’s not very tall, — said Anna Nikolaevna. — Not much to look at, rather bookish-looking. Only his face looks a bit like an actor’s, though I think it's mostly because of his mustache. Well, he’s got black hair and he was always smoothing it down…

— All right, thank you, Anna Nikolaevna, — I said, hurrying. — I’ll come see you again in a few days, okay?

So… I’d found some kind of a lead; I could take action, search, do something. And I felt as if this somehow was connecting me to Arkady, preventing the last thread linking us — the living and the dead — from snapping. And only when that thread is cut down will Arkady truly die for me.