Barbershop Otto Read online

  ***

  On Wednesday morning, Vasya took a gap between the cable-fixing assignments to drop by the local precinct. Dima’s area officer was not in, so he went to leave an application with the duty guy.

  “The description is very vague. Average height, a skinny guy, no dress details…” said the officer.

  “I will find a photo”, said Vasya. He had a few pictures of them drinking together.

  “How many days the guy’s been missing?” asked the officer.

  “More than three for sure. Almost a week now”, said Vasya.

  “And you are…?” asked the officer.

  “Just a friend. He has no relatives”, replied Vasya.

  “Hm, OK, we’ll take the application”, said the officer, “can’t promise any action though. You know how many people are disappearing in this town? Just a bit shy of a hundred each year”.

  “Seriously?” Vasya was a little astonished.

  “Seriously”, said the officer, “boys, girls, men, women, old, young, all kinds of people. Mostly young women though, and men of all ages. Sometimes they show up in the spring, when the snow melts. Like snow flowers”. He gave Vasya a meaningful look.

  The officer went to talk to his superior and told Vasya to wait in the hallway. There was a large stand by the entrance, with photograph and descriptions of some of the missing persons over the last few months; many of them young women as the officer said. Some were pretty. “Snow flowers”, said Vasya. The men were mostly in his own age bracket. A few youngsters, a couple of middle-aged men “left home and never returned”, but the bulk majority seemed around twenty - twenty five years of age. He spent some time looking in the mostly simple, unsophisticated faces with nothing very evil in them. “Guys like me”, Vasya noted. “One day they’ll send me to fix the cable TV for a bunch of maniacs, and I’ll just disappear”.

  The door opened and the officer walked out with the papers.

  “Look, we’ll take the application”, he said, “we’ll try to send the area officer, ask the neighbours around. But I won’t register it.” “I see”, though Vasya, “bad for statistics”. “But you’ll send the guy, right?” he asked. “Well, if he finds the time”, said the officer.

  “How about a newspaper ad?” asked Vasya. “Waste of money”, said the cop, “we do that sometimes, but only if the relatives pay for the ad, and frankly, it’s almost useless. If it’s a child or an animal, yeah, sometimes people call, but if it’s just an average guy, who cares?” Vasya said thank you and went back to work.

  The phone rang as he was busy laying wires for the next client, Vasya picked up. He didn’t recognize the number. He often received random calls but this time it also seemed from another city. “Hello, is this Vasily, Dima’s relative?”, asked an unfamiliar voice. “Yeah, that’s me, just a friend though”, said Vasya, “what’s up?” “Nothing much, just can’t get in touch with our man”, said the voice. It turned out the voice belonged to Dima’s landlord, and the guy was supposed to wire him the money for the next three months a few days ago. “Dima’s disappeared”, said Vasya, “nobody’s seen him lately. I am just from the Police Dept.” “Whoa”, said the landlord, “shit”. “Yeah, I dunno”, said Vasya, “no close relatives, so I guess am leading this inquiry now”. “I see”, said the landlord, “look, let me think here, OK? Can I call you back on this number?” “Sure”, said Vasya, “and yeah, how do you know it?” “Dmitry wrote your number as the emergency contact, I thought you were next of kin”, said the landlord. “Oh”, said Vasya, “I see”.

  That was a new bit of information. Right after work Vasya returned to the precinct and found the officer he handed his application to. “I just heard from the landlord”, he said, “Dima was supposed to wire a three-month upfront rent, that’s almost forty five thousand”. “So what?” asked the officer. “Well I guess someone could know he was carrying cash that day”, said Vasya, “not a whole lot, but people get murdered for less these days”. “People get murdered for nothing these days”, said the officer, “I told you, I took the application, we’ll see if the area officer can look into it. That’s it”. “OK, OK, just saying”, said Vasya and left the precinct disappointed.

  He tried calling again. Dima’s phone was still dead. Vasya was getting tired of walking and taking bus from one end of the town to another, but he still decided to check with Sayeed again. There were still a couple of hours before school.

  “Nothing. No sign of him”, said Sayeed at the 24-hour store. The same cashier was hanging around. “Did you guys hear him saying anything interesting lately? Like he was seeing anyone? Or going somewhere?” asked Vasya. He actually wanted to ask if they heard him talking about the money but decided it could be too blunt. “No, nothing of interest”, said Sayeed, “he’s a quiet guy basically, doesn’t talk much”. “If there was anything, guess he would tell you first”, said the cashier, “you’re his only buddy, really”. “Right”, said Vasya and went home for dinner. All the way back he kept thinking about the cashier’s words. If there was anything happening with Dima, he would surely know first.

  Mom warmed up the dumplings for him; he ate hastily looking at the wall clock and the bus schedule. “Still nothing about Dima?” she asked, “what’s police saying?” “Nothing, no use”, said Vasya, “dozens of people go missing each year they say. I think Dima will show up though. He could be just drinking somewhere or in some other precinct”.

  The phone rang again. “Am I calling too late?” asked the landlord, “stupid times zones”. “No problem, what’s up there? I still have nothing”, said Vasya. “You the one talking to police, right?” asked the landlord. “Trying”, said Vasya, “not much luck though, the area officer is never there”. “Sure, sure”, said the landlord, “I am going to send someone to open the apartment, would you like to go in as well? Just for safety and all?” “Ugh, yeah, I guess”, said Vasya. The landlord gave the name and number of his relative who had a spare set of the keys. Vasya wrote everything down and then rushed for his bus. He concentrate and nearly destroyed a circuit board with the soldering gun in tonight’s workshop and got warned by the instructor.