Sanctuary by Luca D'Andrea

Author:Luca D'Andrea
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-12-06T16:00:00+00:00

50

Herr Wegener’s shoes were lined, warm and elegant. He had had them made to measure by a craftsman in Florence, who had put his mark on them with a red-hot iron, just like in the Middle Ages. He had paid an arm and a leg for them. Inside them, his feet were dry.

Wegener was no longer skin and bones. He was a fully fledged man. Over forty-two years old, not twelve. And he was about to become a father. The thought of it made him dizzy. Father: it was like the beginning of a prayer the words of which he had forgotten years ago.

And yet, sitting in the silver-haired lawyer’s office, he felt as if he were still twelve, still barefoot, hungry and alone. And, what was worse, still defenceless.

“The Trusted Man can’t be stopped.”

“Marlene is . . .”

“Nobody can stop him.”

“. . . pregnant.”

The lawyer looked away. He plucked a cigarette from the drawer and brought a large, bull-shaped lighter close to it, the flame emerging from the animal’s nostrils. “I understand,” was his only comment.

“She’s expecting a child. My son. If he kills her—”

“The Trusted Man—”

“—he’d be killing my son.”

“—has never made a mistake. Never.”

Wegener would not give up. “There must be a way of communicating with him.”

“The voicemail.”

“Apart from the voicemail.”

The lawyer was about to respond, but Wegener continued, swallowing his words, hunched forward, his hands clutching the edge of the desk like a castaway.

“The contract doesn’t necessarily have to be annulled. That’s not what I’m asking. The contract will remain valid. He just has to find her and hand her over to me. Postpone the date of her death. Wait until she gives birth, then kill her. If it’s a question of money, I’ll pay.”

Irritably, the lawyer crushed his barely smoked cigarette in a crystal ashtray. “Even the Consortium can’t stop the Trusted Man. You don’t understand. The man won’t stop until he’s fulfilled the contract. That’s the way he works.”

“I’m just asking him to make an exception . . .”

The lawyer pushed a button, and one of his bodyguards looked into the room.

“Trust me, Wegener, it’s for the best. This child” – he gave him a pitying look – “wouldn’t be any good for a man like you. It would distract you from your duties.”

“My—”

“Remember the reason you’re still alive.”

Wegener did not offer his hand, but stood up and left.

As soon as Georg saw him come out, he started the engine of the Mercedes.

Wegener did not speak once during the ride. As soon as he got back to the villa on the Passer, he shut himself in his bedroom, took the 9-mm automatic out of his belt and put it down on the mattress. Then he threw open the window and let the cold air rush into the room. He sat down on the edge of the bed and started thinking.

About an empty chair and a bowl of soup, a long, long time ago.

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