The Whispers of Nemesis by Anne Zouroudi

Author:Anne Zouroudi [Zouroudi, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2011-06-14T14:00:00+00:00

Across the boulevard, the fat man found an Italian café, more appropriate to Milan than to a Greek city, yet somehow lacking an Italian city’s style. He took a table with a street view, away from the draught caused by the door’s opening and closing, and asked the blonde-haired girl who served him for a Greek coffee without sugar.

‘No Greek coffee,’ she said, in Scandinavian-accented Greek. ‘Espresso.’

His eye had been caught by a display of cakes and pastries.

‘Could I trouble you,’ he said, ‘to tell me what sweets you have on offer?’

She listed them with no interest, her pen held over her order pad to hurry his choice.

‘Denmark,’ he said, as she finished speaking. ‘Am I right?’

‘Yes,’ she said. She looked at him expectantly.

‘I have never been so far north,’ he said, affably. ‘I am certain the weather would not be to my taste. Though I suppose it is something you could get used to, like the lack of light.’

‘Are you ready to order?’ she asked. ‘If you want a minute, I can come back.’

‘No,’ he said, ‘I’m ready. I think a slice of the lemon tart, with a little whipped cream on the side. It’s not something you eat for breakfast every day, but a change of habit is healthy, once in a while. And I’ll have one of the croissants too, whichever you recommend; I’m torn between the chocolate and the almond.’

For a long moment, she looked at him.

‘I’d have the cherry,’ she said, ‘if you’re asking my opinion.’

‘I am, and I will,’ said the fat man. ‘Cherry it is. And since there are two courses to my breakfast, be good enough to make my espresso a double.’

She left him, and he unfolded his newspaper, reading the headline with little interest: political scandal, though with an original touch – not a minister’s affair, but his wife’s affair with a boy exactly the age of their own son. Amused, he turned the page, and saw a smaller headline there: Death of the Lazarus Poet. Skimming the article for its crucial points, a thought seemed to strike him, and he turned to the classified section in the paper’s last pages, where, amongst trysts for illicit lovers, advertisements for deviant sex and a request for a baby to adopt, was a message: Investigator please return to us urgently. AD.

The waitress laid his coffee on the table, alongside a slice of lemon tart with a spoon, and a cherry croissant with a knife.

The fat man folded his newspaper.

‘Thank you,’ he said, with a smile. ‘It is most fortunate I have ordered a decent breakfast; my day, it seems, is likely to be quite a challenge.’

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