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Ioana Pârvulescu
168
a K and a tz, although in
his statement the man had
written it with a normal C
and a normal ț, and
secundo
,
that he, Costache Boerescu,
had been omitted from the
news item. But these were
trifles. And he looked into
the fireplace once more,
at the dancing tongues of
flame, which soothed him,
and then he went to the
window again. No snow
flake resembled any other,
and, so Costache hoped, no
fingerprint could resemble
any other. Unfortunately,
it had not yet been proven
whether the patterns on
a man’s fingertips might
alter over the course of
his lifetime, but Costache
was almost certain that
within a few years the fact
that they did not would be
demonstrated scientifically.
His superior arrogantly
contradicted him and gave
as an example trees, which,
when sawn in two reveal
their own print. But if you
compare the rings of a
young tree with those of an
old tree, you will see that
in the latter the distances
between them are greater
and increase with the years,
and that the accidents of
good and bad years change
their outlines. The same
must also apply to aman, the
Prefect of Police concluded.
Costache did not get on
with his superior, although
he acknowledged that he
was not a stupid man. The
22nd of November had
been the anniversary of his
arrival, the datewhen, full of
complexes and affectations,
he had taken up the post.
His brother Ion, the Prefect
of Bacău, had been mixed
up in a scandal involving
the torture of a prisoner,
from which he had got off