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words were heard. It seems that these were male voices. Someone plucked up the courage to run up to the ship with his head down.

      Jorge swam to the place where Massimo and Pablo dived. They surfaced a few meters from the boat, inhaling deeply through their jaws open wide. Jorge turned on the weak speed, swimming as close as possible. Massimo swam a couple of meters, threw the pistol into the boat, and then stretched out his arms and grabbed the edge of the side. He pushed with all his might and fell over the side. Meanwhile Pablo held tightly with both hands to the oar that Jorge handed him. As soon as Pablo plunged his body into the boat, Jorge pressed the lever all the way, the engine roared and the boat rushed at full speed away from the shore.

      When the pulse returned to normal, Massimo rushed to ask Pablo how the girl knew his name. Everything was very banal. The murdered girl turned out to be the one who told Pablo about these weekly secret cruises to the beach. She slept with him for two long months. In bed she became very accommodating. And even too much. She gave him everything. She told about all the details, down to the little things that concerned the place where things are left, who is in this club, who is how old, the time of arrival and departure.

      – What were you waiting for!? – Massimo shouted, turning to Jorge. – Why did you let her on the yacht!?

      – At first I ducked down so that she wouldn’t notice me, and when she climbed the ladder, I had to row to the pier because the boat drifted a little. I needed time and… Sorry guys.

      Massimo immediately waved his hand, urging Jorge to stop making excuses.

      Along the way, they took off their wet clothes, took out towels, dried themselves and put on dry clothes. They tore the bags and poured the loot into the backpack, and then threw in pistols, tape, knives and everything else. Meanwhile Jorge was peeling off the vapor barrier tape from the sides, leaving it lying inside.

      The boat stopped off the coast a couple of kilometers from the boat station. Massimo and Jorge rolled up their jeans to their knees, picked up their shoes, the backpack, torn bags with pieces of tape wrapped around them and went out into the vacant lot.

      Pablo started the engine and rushed to return the boat to the boat station.

      Massimo and Jorge dried their feet and then put on their shoes. They carefully collected the used tape into one lump, which they wrapped in torn bags. Massimo threw his backpack over his shoulders, Jorge took the crumpled bags, and both slowly walked towards the railway tracks.

      Less than an hour later they met Pablo at the train station. Jorge threw the plastic with tape inside into trash cans half a block from the station. They waited for the nearest train and returned to Little Rome on it.

      Over the weekend, Jorge borrowed his father’s car. On it they went to the other end of the city. There they found one of the pawn shops and pawned half of the jewelry. The second part was pawned at another pawnshop located in a neighboring city. Everything else – the watches, necklace, smoking pipe and other goods – went into the hands of traders who made deals on the black market.

      The total profit from the case was over fifty thousand dollars.

      Massimo bought a new TV, refrigerator and tape recorder, refreshed the furniture and made minor cosmetic repairs. He hired workers who replaced the parquet and tiles in the bathroom, updated the plumbing, painted the walls and installed new interior and exterior doors. Now the apartment looked quite respectable.

      Jorge stopped asking his father for a car because he now had his own silver 1967 Ford. Now he moved on wheels every day, and not just on weekends.

      And Pablo… nothing was heard from Pablo for about a week. After his sudden appearance to the people, he explained his absence by a prolonged stay in the apartment of some Italian woman who lives a couple of blocks away.

      After two months, everyone still had a considerable amount left so as not to worry about anything. But Massimo was worried. He couldn’t bear to sit still. When they were just developing the robbery plan, his mind was already cleared of oppressive thoughts. This attracted him. A little time has passed since the robbery on the yacht and passions have subsided. The blues began to return. He needed to do something else. Any adventure could bring him out of this state. Some kind of outing in search of robbery is the best and only acceptable therapy for Massimo.

      It was late evening. Massimo was walking down the street. Thoughts about Aunt Barbara couldn’t leave his head. He urgently needed to chat with someone. He went into «A glass of red». As he approached the bar counter, he was greeted by the owner.

      – Who came to us? – Murillo said enthusiastically. A black shirt fit him well and, as usual, the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. A pair of buttons undone at the end revealed a thick gold chain on which hung a cross with the image of the crucified Jesus Christ. – I haven’t seen you for a long time. How are you doing?

      Massimo sat down on a chair in front of the bar, waved his hand languidly and said:

      – So-so. The other day it seemed to feel a little better. And now my soul feels bad again.

      – You know, it’s normal. You don’t have to think that this has a bad effect on you or that it shouldn’t be this way. This happens to many people. I know she was the only close person. But believe me, there are a great many people like you all over the world. So just be patient. Time will heal everything.

      After a few seconds, Murillo placed a glass of water in front of him.

      – Here. Have a drink.

      Massimo wrapped his fingers around the glass, but things went no further. He looked at the bottom of the glass through the water, imagining how he landed on the same bottom of life.

      – Crap. How bad I feel – Massimo muttered under his breath in a bitterly trembling voice.

      Murillo placed his wide hand on Massimo’s shoulder and said carefully:

      – Don’t worry. Believe me. It will let go after a while.

      – It depends how long it takes. I’ll be gray before sclerosis comes to my aid.

      – My niece works in a hairdresser. Do you want me to make an agreement? She’ll quickly turn you into an old man. You’ll be old as mold. You won’t have to wait for gray hair.

      Murillo’s efforts at this moment were in vain. Massimo did not react to such a joke. Then Murillo added:

      – Well, or I can ask someone to get on your nerves. They say that nerves can make you grow old quickly.

      Massimo’s face remained stony. Only the eyes moved a few times.

      Murillo surrendered. He lowered his eyes and returned to wiping the glasses.

      Massimo continued to sit at the counter, surrounded by dozens of customers. His right palm lay on his forehead, and after a while it began to shake. From under his hand, through his open lips, it was noticeable how he clenched his teeth.

      – Hey? Massimo? – Murillo said cautiously. He carefully removed his hand from his face. A tear slowly fell down Massimo’s left cheek.

      Murillo raised his voice slightly:

      – Listen, dude! Maybe stop playing out the drama. Yes, we are not all soulless machines. We are all humans. Everyone suffers, experiences pain, loses loved ones. But are you a man after all or what!?

      From such words Massimo covered his face with both hands. His shoulders shook even more.

      Confused, Murillo again placed his hand on his shoulder.

      – Sorry. This is not what I wanted…

      The Cuban stopped his speech, not understanding how to continue it.

      – Just be patient. You will see. Everything will be alright.

      Massimo took his hands away from his face and said without hesitation:

      – Maybe

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