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him
to mortal terror with his fang, his knife and his wall-eyed squint and he
had an air of cool, calculating energy.
First he picked up the passport and handed it to Maximilian
Andreyevich, who took it with a limp hand. Then Azazello took the suitcase
in his left hand, flung open the front door with his right and taking
Berlioz's uncle by the arm led him out on to the landing. Poplavsky leaned
against the wall. Without a key Azazello opened the little suitcase, took
out of it an enormous roast chicken minus one leg wrapped in greaseproof
paper and put it on the floor. Then he pulled out two sets of clean
under-wear, a razor-strop, a book and a leather case and kicked them all
downstairs except the chicken. The empty suitcase followed it. It could be
heard crashing downstairs and to judge by the sound, the lid broke off as it
went.
Then the carrot-haired ruffian picked up the chicken by its leg and hit
Poplavsky a terrible blow across the neck with it, so violently that the
carcase flew apart leaving Azazello with the leg in his hand. '
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