Chapter I.VI

Galbraith's mood was ruined. Throwing the money on the counter, he grabbed a sweaty plastic bag and, going up the steps, began to unwrap it as he went. His first impression of this slice of pizza was correct - this cheap semi-finished product was barely chewable and none of its components had any taste. Maybe the point was that while the inspector was talking on the phone, the pizza had time to cool down, lying on the bar counter, but Galbraith didn't want to justify himself to himself for his own stupidity - since he fell for the advertising, got what he deserved...

Without slowing down, he finished his breakfast without the slightest sense of appetite. Having crumpled up the plastic bag, he threw it into the trash can, which just happened to be on his way when he passed by the wall of a building. But then suddenly the aftersound of some lively discussion reached his ears. Brushing the crumbs from his moustache, the inspector turned off the road into a small alley. There, in a small nook, two cars stood in the parking lot - a brand new silver Buick Skyhawk and a nondescript red Eagle Premier. 

Three African-Americans, dressed in some ridiculously large colourful suits for them, huddled around them. The three of them had their eyes hidden behind huge black glasses, and their hair covered their white caps with backward peaks. "These are definitely fans of gangsta rap", Galbraith thought, slightly hiding. For some reason, he became interested in what these curious people were talking about in this secluded place. The tallest of this gang pointed his finger at the fat man standing opposite him and said angrily:

- Call me "jerk" again, and I'll park your truck dead in your arse!

The one to whom this remark was addressed pulled back and, turning to the short man standing on his left, said to him in a low voice:

- Bud, I'd bust this shit right now.

- He ain't gonna bust nothing, - the tall African American man said boastfully.

- I got nuts bigger than him, - the short one said calmly.

- Whoa, country-clod, maple-syrup mutt!

It was the tallest of the gang who raised his voice again, who after this remark suddenly pulled out a pistol shining silver from the pockets of his wide pants.The two who stood opposite him did not take long to wait and also pulled out their firearms. Unlike their opponent, their friends had black and compact Colts.

- Yeah, you want some biscuits? - shouted the short one.

- You want some biscuits? - his fat friend echoed him.

- Suck it down! - yelled their opponent.

"Just a little more and they'll shoot each other with their pistols", Galbraith thought. Imagining how these three African-Americans would simultaneously fall to the ground with holes in their heads, he laughed loudly. This saved the gang from their feud - they, forgetting about enmity, all turned in his direction as one. The muzzles of their guns were now facing the inspector.

- What does this white-skinned asshole allow himself to do? - the tallest one screamed.

- No doubt, he just hitting on us! - the short man answered him.

Galbraith, considering that it was now better to retreat, did not spend much time persuading himself - he, trying not to show fear at gunpoint of three pistols, slowly walked forward along the street. The fat man's cries of "Hey, where are you going!" could still be heard in his ears, but, strangely enough, not one of this warlike trinity followed him - apparently, they just wanted to drive away the passerby who was interfering with their disassembly.

Convinced that the three gangsta rap fans were not going to follow him on his heels, Galbraith slowed down. Having satisfied his hunger, he no longer felt as sluggish as when he left the home. Now he was walking along a gradually narrowing street. The thought arose in his head that this nook in the center had not been rebuilt, probably since the nineteenth century - so unkempt were the walls of the awkward buildings in which the shop windows shone.

The inspector walked next to the display window, behind which stood mannequins dressed in ball gowns, and, passing under a concrete arch, turned into a deserted passage. Now he didn't know where he was, but after yesterday Galbraith chose not to contact the metro - it seemed to him, that if he went there again, this strange man would be waiting for him there again, who looked as two drops of water like mister Yonce, who was lying in the hospital.

Deep in his thoughts, Galbraith noticed out of the corner of his eye that another person had appeared in the passage. It was a tall and thin man who gradually approached the inspector himself. The latter had no time to pay attention to a random passerby, but purely instinctively he tried to keep the person in his field of vision.Was it really the primitive instinct of a hunter, or a habit acquired during work in the police, but be that as it may, Galbraith decided that it was better not to relax - for in this passage, in which the further from the entrance it became darker, for some reason he felt uncomfortable being in it.

The passerby was already very close. Raising his head, Galbraith noticed that he had slowed down a little. Hmm, he thought, why would he... They simultaneously stopped a few steps away from each other. Inspector, trying to look at the stranger standing in the darkness of the passage, gradually stopped thinking about yesterday's incident in subway. Something was wrong with this man, Galbraith thought, what made him freeze in one place like that? Was it really out of surprise that besides him, someone else decided to follow this path? After waiting for half a minute, the inspector got tired of standing in one place and he moved forward, but suddenly the toe of his loafer came across something invisible, preventing him from moving further.

Galbraith realized that this strange man was himself - for it was a reflection in a mirror that, for some incomprehensible purpose, had been brought to the end of a dead end. But this did not reassure the inspector. He took a couple of steps back and raised his hand up, thinking that the double in the mirror would repeat his movements. However, this did not happen.