8
Peter called on the third day in the afternoon and asked to come for dinner that evening. He said he had good news.
Even though the meeting with Peter left a good impression and the candidate inspired trust, Isaac was still a bit nervous. On the way there he kept glancing around all the time. Bikie, who was entrusted with countering any negative consequences of the meeting, tried everything he could to calm him down and cheer him up a bit.
Bikie approached the question of security very systematically and professionally. He tapped Peter’s phone, hacked into his mail account and even undertook to watch the house in person. If Peter had contacted the police or lawyers, or if he had dialed a suspicious number, the two of them would have known about it.
Isaac assumed that Peter wasn’t exactly in the team already, but he obviously wasn’t refusing. So the news wasn’t excellent, but it wasn’t bad. Any help would be appreciated, and it could do no harm. Bikie, carefree as ever, suggested taking it easy and being cool.
Isaac and Bikie decided to go visit Peter together. Peter did not call a meeting in order to refuse to collaborate. Bikie remarked with a solemn face that Peter hadn’t called anyone at all – for certain. All he’d done was call twice to order a pizza. And Peter didn’t need to call anyone to take a decision. For that he had his own head on his shoulders, his own brains and his intact OE.
At seven in the evening they were at Wolanski’s house. Peter opened the door in the gate himself, greeted Isaac and offered Bikie his hand.
“Peter.”
“Bikie.” “Come in.”
Large, comfortable sofas were laid out on the lawn, a barbecue was smoking, and several bottles of cold beer were glinting in the sun.
“I’ve arranged a little picnic. I invited you and one friend of mine.”
Isaac and Bikie exchanged glances of alarm. “Don’t worry, it’s someone reliable.”
“I hope you haven’t told him too much?”
“No, I simply invited her to dinner in a pleasant company.” Now it was clear that Bikie’s surveillance had failed – he’d missed something. He had either tapped the wrong line, or did not have all of the numbers. Bikie was embarrassed at having screwed up, and he kept giving Isaac very guilty glances. He clearly hadn’t been expecting that Peter could actually talk to anyone without him knowing, and his self-confidence evaporated. Bikie had lost sight of something.
A car honked at the gates. Peter returned with a girl about twenty years old.
“I’m Sandrine.”
“Isaac.”
“Bikie.”
“Pleased to meet you.”
Isaac relaxed. He thought it funny to see Bikie looking like a spy caught red-handed.
“I’m not certain, but to judge from your name, you won’t refuse this.” Peter was holding a pack of dark Guinness.
“Thanks,” Bikie mumbled.
“Help yourself. Sandrine is my very close friend, my girlfriend and, I hope, my fiancée.”
Sandrine smiled and laid her head on Peter’s shoulder. “We’re going away on a trip for a couple of months. First to Stockholm, Copenhagen and the Baltic, possibly to St. Petersburg and Moscow, and then we’ll decide where else. I haven’t done any traveling for a long time, so I’ll enjoy the ride. They say the summer in those parts is very pleasant, not as hot as here and I think I’ll get by without the sea for a while. I want to take a look at Germany, my grandfather’s home country. As well as Poland. They say Polish girls are quite something.”
The final remark earned him a light cuff to the back of the head from Sandrine.
“Anything’s possible,” he said with a smile, for which Sandrine pinched him too, quite painfully.
“Sandrine! Stop it!”
“What do you think is possible? I’ll show you Polish girls!” she barked.
Bikie had already recovered from his error and was about to joke on the subject of Polish girls and Russian lovelies, but after glancing at Isaac, he didn’t.
Wolanski took his friends around the grounds and gave them a tour of the house.
“This is a safe place, but I’m going away for a long time, you never know if something might break down or someone might creep in. In short, would you mind living here and taking care of the house while I’m away? I could even pay you for service,” he added with a smile. “A little bit.”
Well, how about that! The very idea that he could live in a swanky villa like this for a while took Isaac’s breath away.
Bikie instantly forgot about the affront he had suffered and started gazing around intently.
“I’m sorry, but I have no secrets from Sandrine,” Wolanski went on. “The two of us have decided to support you, but we won’t get involved. In a few weeks I will acquire full control over my father’s legacy. Right now I live in a good house, I can afford to pay almost any expenses, but I don’t have control over his fortune. I have free access to a large amount of money, which I can spend as I wish. So I don’t want to put that at risk.”
“And so, I’m sorry guys, the house is at your disposal, I can even write you a check for a couple of thousand a month, you have the internet here, a television, a small chemistry lab in the basement if you need it. As for financing and advice, sorry, you have to handle that yourselves.”
Peter felt awkward for steering clear of the risks, and his voice had a guilty ring to it.
“You’re here as security guards and sort of household help. I don’t need to know what you are up to while I’m away. So let’s agree that if I don’t ask, you avoid discussing your business in my presence. I ask you not to involve any one else until you have at least a provisional plan. Naturally, I have cameras here