Master and Margarita, XII - The Victim

‘The dear baron,’ Woland went on, smiling joyfully, ‘was so charming that, having learned of my arrival in Moscow, he rang me up at once, offering
his services along the line of his expertise, that is, acquainting people with places of interest. It goes without saying that I was happy to invite
him here.’

Just then Margarita saw Azazello hand the platter with the skull to Koroviev.

‘Ah, yes, incidentally, Baron,’Woland said, suddenly lowering his voice intimately, ‘rumours have spread about your extreme curiosity. They say
that, combined with your no less developed talkativeness, it was beginning to attract general attention. What’s more, wicked tongues have already
dropped the word - a stool-pigeon and a spy. And, what’s still more, it is hinted that this will bring you to a sorry end in no more than a month.
And so, in order to deliver you from this painful anticipation, we have decided to come to your aid, taking advantage of the fact that you invited
yourself here precisely with the purpose of eavesdropping and spying out whatever you can.’

The baron turned paler than Abaddon, who was exceptionally pale by nature, and then something strange took place. Abaddon stood in front
of the baron and took off his glasses for a second. At the same moment something flashed fire in Azazello’s hand, something clapped softly, the
baron began to fall backwards, crimson blood spurted from his chest and poured down his starched shirt and waistcoat. Koroviev put the cup to the
spurt and handed the full cup to Woland. The baron’s lifeless body was by that time already on the floor.