Cookbook for a New Europe by Richard Segal

Author:Richard Segal [Segal, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781467881906
Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
Published: 2012-01-13T00:00:00+00:00

A Ceremonial Cruise

Due in the office by 9:00 AM, Fran arrived just in time. He pressed the flesh with a couple familiar faces, introduced himself to a few new ones and walked toward the kitchen. As he approached he saw a woman who looked like Linda in her younger days, or at least did to him, and made his way toward the coffee machine. He poured a cup, sniffed it and pointed an imaginary pistol at his head, as if to shame himself for ever drinking this stewed insult of a beverage. He took a small sip, thought about spitting it out and swallowed. He shook his head, set the cup back down and promised never again. He walked to his office, sat in silence for 10 minutes and walked out. He left the building without saying a word.

He took a taxi to the Village and began pacing. Yesterday was so action packed and today, nothing is going to happen, he told himself. He sent Lew a brief, concise text message and waited for a return. He saw another familiar face, the Old Bohemia Coffee Shop, and walked in. Although he could have selected any table, he chose one in the front, so that he wouldn’t be able or tempted to see what was happening behind him.

Indeed, perhaps it was fate that steered him toward a conversation with a self-described gun-running oil trader ‘Anatol.’ Fran’s fast friend didn’t look the part, he looked like a bespectacled pharmacist, but what is a gun-running oil trader supposed to look like?

Three hours later and Fran felt better. Darby was right about the whipped cream warning from the previous night. Fran’s low mood that morning could be explained by the sudden change in diet and he needed a fix of pecan honey sweet roll and double espresso to bring him back to life. If that’s what’s ailing you, Old Bohemia is the place to go.

It was fortuitous that ‘Anatol’ intermittently had trades to put through the system, because Lew had received the text messages and responded efficiently and courteously. “At ur disposal. Herd alot abt u,” read one. Fran wrote back, though in full sentences. He had yet to get the hang of text message abbreviations. They arranged to meet the following Monday.

“I got a new partner in crime,” Fran proudly told Anatol, who in turn was tongue-tied at this choice of words, without knowing what he did for a living.

“I meant that figuratively, Tony,” Fran filtered.

Anatol grinned, half sheepishly, half knowingly. “Why aren’t you working? You’re in a suit.”

Fran paused for thought. “I am. That was my new co-worker I’ve just been texting. No, sorry, I should tell I can’t kid a kidder. I can’t get used to the new pace—I just got off sabbatical—what used to take 18 months now takes six weeks.” He paused again. He began to say ‘there’s not enough crimes’ to solve, but realized he shouldn’t give away too much and remarked, “There’s too many of us in the office—I shouldn’t have come back to work.

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