The Alex Kovacs Series Box Set by Richard Wake

Author:Richard Wake [Wake, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Manor and State, LLC
Published: 2019-08-08T22:00:00+00:00

27

Cold, wet, snow, Zurich. Only this year seemed worse. People didn't need what I had just gone through to be depressed in Zurich in January. All they needed to do was open their front doors and begin the morning trudge to the office.

I drank through the weekend of my confrontation with Manon. The phone rang a few times in my flat, but I didn't pick it up. I didn't know if it was her and I didn't care. As far as I was concerned, the slam of that door was the final punctuation on our relationship. There was nothing more to be said, no need for any kind of follow-up. If she started showing up at Fessler's, I would find somewhere else to eat and drink. It's not as if the town wasn't full of half-empty restaurants selling mediocre food.

By Monday, I was in reasonable emotional shape, better than I had been since the night in Bern. The bank was a decent distraction, especially given that January was our informal audit month when Marta and I tore apart every record from the previous year and checked them against our ledgers. We set up at our big conference table, which was about the only time we used it all year, and ordered in lunch for two or three days, however long it took to go through everything. By the end, we had fixed any discrepancies and could know with some certainty that our books were in order.

It felt good to dive into the minutiae of the business. After the audit, it was back to my never-ending series of bullshit sales calls and lunches and drinks and whatnot, with less time spent in the office and a couple of nights of paperwork at Fessler's. It was there, one night, when Gregory sat down. I had just walked in and sat at my booth, and he brought me my Manhattan without asking. He had one, too.

"I didn't think you drank those," I said.

"I don't."

"But..."

"I don't but, I have to be honest, I've been drinking more since we started," and then, with a flick of his eyes, indicated the stairs up to his flat, and the radio. "But I don't get drunk, not on beer or wine, not anymore. So I'm trying these. I'm so excited, just thinking about it, that I need to take the edge off."

We each gulped a mouthful, me trying to warm up a bit from my walk over to the cafe, Gregory trying to settle himself.

"Are you sure you're OK with this?" I said. "I can work out the radio a different way if--"

"Don't even think it," he said. "I told you how alive I felt with this, and it's all true. I'm just not used to feeling this alive if that makes any sense. Just the edge -- I just need to take the edge off."

He gulped again.

"You should be careful." I pointed at the mostly empty glass. "You never know when you're going to have to use that magic finger.

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