Santuario by Gordon G.B

Author:Gordon G.B. [G.B., Gordon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781937551650
Google: EMTsMgEACAAJ
Amazon: B00A10KDLK
Barnesnoble: B00A10KDLK
Goodreads: 15849760
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The phone jolted Bengt awake. He shot upright, trying to remember where he was, then reached for the phone on the desk and settled against the wall with the receiver to his ear. It was a quarter after six. "Buenas dias?"

"What do you think I just saw in the news?"

Skanes. Loud, upset. Sunne.

Bengt swallowed. "I can guess."

"Oh, you can guess. Well, isn't that something? I think I spoke of this case as a delicate matter. I gather having your friend lose it in the hotel lobby is your idea of appropriate procedure."

"No, of course not," Bengt tried to get a word in. "Unfortunately, I was--"

"Shit, Bengt, I'd hoped this investigation would diffuse the potential violence, not fan it."

"Yes, me too. Only--"

"And where's my report, by the way?"

Bengt closed his eyes and banged his head against the wall. "Almost done. I'll envoy it."

"And our golden boy?"

Sleeping the sleep of the wicked. "Packing."

"The sooner you get him on that plane, the better." Her voice became more conciliatory.

"Everything okay with you?"

Apart from having just been skinned alive?

"All's well."

"Good. I expect the report before noon, then. I have no idea what I'm supposed to say to the press." She disconnected.

Bengt took a deep breath. The annexation would fail miserably. He had to somehow make it perfectly clear in his report how the political power was divided up. Which made him painfully aware that he still knew too little about that.

Maybe, if Sunne was elected, she could...If, could, and maybe. Chances for the annexation had never looked worse. There won't be an annexation, you blockhead. The patron and his Securitas had done their job only too well.

Bengt pushed himself up to cradle the receiver.

His joints cracked and his neck felt stiff. He was getting too old to spend the night on the floor.

Time for that report. He looked around the room for his netpad. It was a constant puzzle to him how Kjell managed to achieve this level of chaos within three days and with a limited amount of luggage. Bengt finally found the netpad under a stack of magazines and three half-empty blister packs of pills. For a while, his typing was the only sound in the room.

Finally, he leaned back and, satisfied, stretched his arms. That was done. After a quick shower, he went to the reception desk to get the key for the conference room and envoyed the report to the office.

Kjell jerked awake when he came back. "You startled me. Where were you? What time is it?"

"Almost nine. How about getting up?"

Kjell stretched lazily under the blanket. "Yeah, yeah, don't push me."

After he'd finally made it out of bed, he spent over half an hour in the bathroom.

Bengt had just started to pack his suitcase for him out of sheer boredom when the phone rang again. This time, he had it on the first ring. "Alex?"

"Well, aren't you awake already?" He sounded tired, but Bengt was sure he heard a smile in his voice.

"Shoot."

"You were right," Alex said. "Vigo Anduja is indeed Ramon's Vigo.

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