Konstantin Alekseyev, a well-known industrialist and amateur actor, arrives in the provincial town of X. The old fortuneteller Zaikina has died here, and for no reason at all she has left Alekseyev her apartment. On the day he arrives, there’s also a mysterious bank robbery: the cashier is killed and the killer escapes. Alekseyev’s apartment is already waiting for something, and from that moment on, no little detail, no nuance will turn out to be accidental or a meaningless coincidence.
Oh, and one small thing: the nineteenth century is drawing to a close.
G. L. Oldi’s new novel is both historical and fantastic at the same time, saturated through and through with the realities of its era and eternal problems. The masks grow onto faces; people, events, things—everything is arranged into a single stage tableau. And if you clap hard enough after the curtain is brought down, maybe the actors will come out for their bow?