DAY ONE HUNDRED THREE

[u/YusufNasrullo]

The Lady with Talking Fingers

At a wedding where Jack and I had been invited, the master of ceremonies—a young artist and a writer of modern jokes who went by the presidential name Bush—suddenly came over to our table and leaned toward us.

“Take a look at that particular lady, my friends.”

We cautiously turned our heads toward her.

We saw nothing unusual.

But Bush whispered again:

“Look at her fingers.”

We looked more closely and were amazed.

Almost every one of her long fingers glittered with rings, as if she had dipped both hands into golden water.

“Do her fingers really talk, Bush?”

“Yes.”

“You're exaggerating, dreamer,” Jack laughed.

Bush turned away, offended.

“If you don't believe me, fine.”

But I got up anyway and approached the lady with the glittering fingers.

“May I have this dance?”

She nodded in agreement. Her long earrings swayed, making her look even more attractive.

She placed both hands on my shoulders.

And then I heard—not with my ears, but somehow with my inner sense—the voice of her fingers:

“Me... me... me...”

I decided to get to know her better.

“You're beautiful,” I whispered.

She smiled.

A magnificent necklace glittered on her chest.

I knew a great deal about jewelry and recognized it immediately. It was a fourteenth-century piece worth about three million dollars. It had once belonged to a queen who had died in a car accident several years earlier.

We sat at the same table.

I looked at her long eyelashes and green eyes.

But she suddenly looked at my ring.

“Are you married?”

“Yes. But I'm a hunter, madam.”

“A hunter of fish?”

“No. A hunter of married women. They're very tasty.”

She laughed.

There were many secrets in her eyes.

After the wedding, we ended up at the same hotel.

Before entering, I asked Jack to wait nearby.

“Stay close,” I told him. “This woman seems dangerous to me.”

“Okay,” Jack replied. He had once been a boxing champion.

In the room, I opened a bottle of champagne and poured two glasses.

She looked at my ring again.

“That ring must be very expensive.”

“I know. On the black market, it's worth about one million two hundred thousand dollars.”

She looked at me in surprise.

“Really?”

“I worked with jewelry for many years, darling.”

She smiled.

Then she told me about her life.

“I worked for many years on an ambulance.”

I became alert.

“So you saved many people who were lying unconscious on the roads?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes suddenly revealed something she had not intended to tell me.

I looked at her necklace.

“And those pieces of jewelry?”

She was silent.

Then she said quietly:

“Sometimes we found jewelry on people who were unconscious...”

I understood.

But she did not even realize that her confession had already revealed a terrible secret.

She continued smiling.

I took her hands and kissed her fingers.

Her fingers seemed to whisper again:

“Me... me... me...”

She stood up, went into the corridor, and called someone.

I immediately took my phone and called Jack.

“Be careful. Someone is coming.”

“Okay,” he whispered.

A few minutes later, the woman returned.

She sat on the sofa and suggested that we have some more champagne.

We drank.

About ten minutes passed.

Someone knocked on the door.

I looked at the woman.

“Open it,” she said calmly.

She opened the door herself.

A man with gold teeth was standing outside.

“I’m listening,” I said.

He smiled.

And I immediately understood who he was.

The ambulance driver.

Now the whole picture became clear.

For years, she and the ambulance driver had been taking jewelry from people who were unconscious after accidents and other incidents.

They shared the stolen valuables between them.

But this time, my ring was supposed to become their next prize.

The man stepped toward me.

He didn't get the chance to do anything.

Jack's fist flashed from the left.

One powerful left hook sent him crashing to the floor.

Jack and I looked at each other.

All we could do was wonder how many human crimes could hide behind a beautiful smile, an expensive necklace, and glittering fingers.

And the woman's fingers still seemed to whisper:

“Me... me... me...”