“...The man walked with a fairly fast and purposeful gait, and it was not possible to catch up with him right away. The evening had not yet cleared up, and there were few people on the street. To be completely precise, there was no one else except Marinka and me and the man running away from us. The man, having overtaken us by tens of two meters, turned right into a narrow empty street going down to the Volga. We hurried towards the same turn, and then to our right, a motorcyclist in a stupid helmet with horns suddenly jumped out of the alley at full speed with a roar. Marinka and I squealed and pressed ourselves against the rough wall of the house. Having doused us with the stench of exhaust, the motorcyclist rushed along the road, and a woman’s cry was heard from the alley: “Help!”