Absinthe by Guido Eekhaut

Author:Guido Eekhaut
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Skyhorse Publishing
Published: 2018-08-08T16:00:00+00:00

26

“HER NAME IS EILEEN Calster and here are some recent pictures of her, a few of which we got out of the university computer.”

Keretsky didn’t have to know where Monet had gotten the photos and information. He was familiar with the power of money. He knew what the hunger for money did to most people and their motives. In a society geared for consumption and consumption only, money was the ultimate motivator.

Or was it not? Power was, maybe. Power might be an even stronger motivator than money. Power over the life of others. But finally, after all other factors were weighed, it was not about money or power but about recognition. It was about receiving the appropriate recognition for your actions and for what you were. That made people tick. That’s what made them work twelve hours a day on impossible projects.

“Mr. Monet,” he said, “I notice that this affair is important to you, but I have to leave very soon, unfortunately. I need to attend to urgent business in Moscow. Things that cannot be postponed. Both my assistants are at your disposal. Mr. Parnow, unfortunately, doesn’t speak English or Dutch, but Andreï does, and he will help you.”

Andreï nodded as if the current arrangement suited him fine. Keretsky, however, had failed to talk this through with him. He had hoped to accompany his boss back to Moscow with a permanent position in the capital by way of promotion. He had hoped to get out of rainy Amsterdam.

But now Keretsky was returning alone. Tarkovski would need to talk with him about that. But Keretsky had no time planned for his assistant anymore. Why not? Had Tarkovski not earned his return? Had he not been Keretsky’s servant for long enough? In the Netherlands, a country he had no affinity with? How long had that been? Two years, nearly three? He had even learned the language in a short time. And served the interests of the Keretsky empire. Tended to the business side of the empire, and occasionally a few illegal matters as well.

Earlier arrangements had been made concerning Tarkovski’s tasks and his return to Russia. He had been made to understand that an end would come to this exile. He had repaid his debt. He wanted to return to Russia. But he wouldn’t. Even then, he wouldn’t contradict Keretsky or refuse to help this fellow Monet. He would follow orders, once again.

The worst thing was that he had to babysit Parnow. The man loathed him, saw him as an effeminate bureaucrat. Or so Tarkovski assumed. Parnow knew better than to express his feelings. But his face tightened every time he saw Tarkovski, who couldn’t help noticing the man’s disdain.

“Thank you, Mr. Keretsky,” Monet said stiffly. He too knew that Keretsky’s departure wasn’t to his advantage. Now he would be first in the line of people responsible for the whole affair with Van Boer. If something went south, the cops would call on him first.

He gave the photographs to Andreï. Monet glanced at the Russian secretary.

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