Trafika Europe 8 - Romanian Holiday

Life Begins on Friday

he did from a distance. He recounted what he could remember, starting with the nicest part, about the toy cow, and finally he gave his own opinion. He chose his words with care: ‘I’m not certain of it, but he may be a Martian. I don’t know whether you’ve heard of them,’ he added. ‘It was in yesterday’s paper. You are sure he’s not Jack, the Ripper, I mean?’ ‘Why?’ asked Costache, rather confused by the ‘you are sure?’ not knowing that Nicu talked to himself in the second person when he was flustered. The Prefect had indeed discounted the hypothesis about Jack from the outset. Every police force and every newspaper in Europe were in ferment because of the murderer. ‘Because he’s a good man:

I’ve seen him. He looks a bit like Miss Iulia. You would think that they were brother and sister.’ Costache’s expression was inscrutable. ‘Where’s the toy he gave you? I want to see it!’ ‘Athome,’ saidNicu, resisting the urge to touch his pocket. He shrugged regretfully, as if to reinforce what he was saying. In a sudden rage, Costache asked himself aloud what kind of subalterns he had and how they had gone about searching the stranger. Who knows what else they had missed? Even the case had vanished. Nicu waited for him to vent his fury; he was accustomed to the highly-strung, what with his mother, but he made a mental note of this item of new information.

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