Chapter Text
Zatonsk Police Station.
June 5, 1889.
Chief Inspector Shtolman.
Dear Yakov Platonovich,
Your most recent letter was received quite happily, and I was very much pleased to find such pleasant news within. I had just finished addressing a blank sheet - the beginning of a letter to you - when Praskovya rapped on my door with your note in hand. You are wrong about my scolding you. On the contrary, I think helping create a fresh start for Masha’s sisters, even if it requires embracing a lie, is commendable if not wholly necessary for the exact reasons you have recited.
I must confess to a lie, myself, Yakov Platonovich. I felt some regret at the time for immediately violating the terms of our agreement. But after reading your letter wherein you celebrate our ability to respect this pact, I now feel quite ashamed. On the very night of our meeting in Karavaev’s home, I returned to the place of the murder, at midnight, alone. I had made plans to meet Mr. Kunistyn there, and he did, in fact, present himself. I fear that information would hardly have provided you with any comfort. It was foolish, and I should have told you of our scheme. But - the truth is, Yakov Platonovich, I refrain from enjoining you in conversation when the subject is my particular abilities or when it pertains to the mystical arts because I receive ill-treatment from you for it. If you wish for our pact to stand, then you must refrain from belittling and mocking me and my beliefs on these matters. It is the quick dismissal, or worse, the teasing joke that pains me. Naturally, I am loath to open myself up to ridicule, in particular when it is you who sends such remarks my way.
I feel that I should apologize for breaking our promise of neutrality as well. I embraced you at our last meeting. And while demure physical affection between friends may be acceptable and, at times, warranted, I do not wish to delude myself, or you, by pretending that my action stemmed from feelings of friendship alone. There is a certain sadness that accompanies this new perspective on our relationship. Am I the only one who feels that is so? You would think that I would be content now that we have defined what we are to each other - labeling it and establishing rules to guard our interactions. How can we hurt one another now that we’ve carefully placed ourselves at arm’s length? But, my dear Detective Shtolman, I fear that we will continue to afflict one another, despite these efforts.
It may seem to be a small thing and may have very well been unintentional or a slip of the hand, but I noticed that you wrote our instead of my when referencing the work done in the Karavaev case. The construction brought a smile to my lips. Perhaps you do not despise my meddling, as you like to call it, as much as you claim.
I share your anticipation for seeing each other again. May it be within the merriment of a social gathering and not under the dreaded circumstances where we most commonly find each other.
Yours truly,
Anna.