The Moscow Vector [antikvár]

February 14 Moscow Snow, blackened by autó exhaust and industrial pollution, lay heaped along the sidewalks of Tverskaya Street, a wide boulevard running right through one of the Russian capital's busiest commercial districts. Beneath glowing Street lamps, pedestrians who were bundled up against the frigid night air jostled one another along the icy pavement. Streams of cars, trucks, and buses rumbled past in both directions. Their thick snow tires crunched over the salt and sand strewn to provide traction on the huge, multi-lane thoroughfare. Dr. Nikolai Kiryanov hurried north along the righthand side of the Street, doing his best to mingle unobtrusively with the bustling crowds. But whenever anyone, young or old, man or woman, brushed past him, he twitched, fighting down the ürge to shrink back or break into a sudden, panicked run. Despite the bittér cold, sweat trickled down his forehead from under his fur hat. The tall, rail-thin pathologist clutched the wrapped gift box under his arm tighter, resisting the temptation to shove it out of sight inside his coat. Although Valentine's Day was a relatively recent addition to the Russian calendar, it was increasingly popular, and plenty of the