The man opened his laptop to check if he had an e-mail from Guntram and there was one, with two attachments.
“My dearest friend, I hope you're fine wherever you are. I miss you and wish to have you by my side. I'm sending you two photos of some cat studies. I saw them in the park and found them very cute. Perhaps, I'll do something with them later or perhaps not. I'm still fighting with my last series. Mr. Robinson says I shouldn't be concerned about my teacher's opinions and continue to do what I like best, but I don't know, perhaps my classmates are right and I'm too dull and boring. With love, your friend, Guntram”
'They say it because no one would give more than ten pounds for their rubbish.' Constantin thought as he downloaded the files. He was fascinated by the two cats fighting, stretching, sleeping or playing.
His studio door was opened violently, but his hand was already on the trigger of a 9 mm, hidden under his desk. He fought against the desire to use it when he saw that his visitor was his wife, Olga Fedorovna, already looking furiously at him.
“How dare you? Get him out! Tomorrow!”
“If you don't like your new security arrangements, you might well stay at home and save me some money, Olga. The man stays.”
“Don't play with me Constantin! I'm sick of your games! Get the little whore you have in London out of my house!”
“I have no whore except you at the moment! A useless, old and expensive one on top!” Constantin roared, enraged by the fact she had chosen that particular moment to rant about Guntram.
“You have the nerve to put him in my house at Ilchester Place. Get him out! I will not let you humiliate me in front of all my friends!”
“What I do with him is none of your concern, Olga.”
“That you fuck around is a very well-known fact and I have turned a blind eye for many years but this is too much! I ordered Dimitri to make the house ready for me and he simply told me that you should order it!”
“Of course, those are my orders. If you want to stay in London, you have a brand new flat in Belgravia.”
“I will not stay in a flea infested flat! When you bought that house it meant that we were going to go to London for a few months in the year. First, you told me that it needed a renovation, then that you were only staying there briefly and now, you have a whore living permanently there since December 2001! That place cost more than fifty million pounds!”
“Exactly. I bought the house, with my own money so it belongs entirely to me. I was gracious enough as to get you an alternate lodging should you dislike hotels. It's mine and Guntram lives there by my wish.”
“You pay for his schooling, have granted him a scholarship in our Foundation, pay for his clothes and food!”
“The same I do for you—without the schooling of course—but he's cheaper than you and a thousand times more satisfying. He makes me very happy. Now, go away as I have to work.”
“I'll divorce you for this!”
“Be my guest. It will only cost me two hundred million. I have wanted to get rid of you since many years. Take your bastard and go.”
“I will not let you have the children!”
“I will not let you take Sofia, Constantin or Vladimir away. The smallest one is yours. He can visit his brothers whenever he wants.”
“I will not tolerate your ways any longer!”
“Stop whining Olga. I said nothing about Stephanov. Have your adventure with him and leave me alone!”
“You bought a $300,000 dollars flat for him!”
“Yes, that's my anniversary present; something small for the first year.”
“Send him there!”
“It's far away. In Buenos Aires. You see, my neighbour, the one from the twelfth floor wanted to sell and I thought that maybe Guntram would like to have a pied à terre when he visits the city. Part of the collection I bought in Argentina, will go there.”
“It's a lot of money!”
“I said nothing when you bought that villa in Marbella for that man, in front of many of my business associates.” Constantin retorted dryly. “Listen to me well, Olga Fedorovna because I will not repeat myself. The house at Ilchester Place is off limits for you. Sleep at Buckingham Palace if you have to! Leave Guntram alone. If you come near him or disturb him in any way, you will know another side of me.”
“The men laugh at you because you're a faggot! A faggot running after a silly little boy! How do you expect that they respect you if you're such a ridiculous old man?” she spat the words.
“They will not follow a whore either. A gay is a hundred times preferable than a woman. Don't go against me, whore. I know how to treat your kind.”
“You'll cry and hide behind Ivan Ivanovich.”
“You're warned. Don't bother Guntram or go against me.”
“My father could hold the men much better. Remember that if you were accepted into our society despite being the product of a decadent woman and a stupid party member, it was because of my father.”
“The Soviet Union collapsed in 1989 and my decadent roots allowed me to form alliances with the decadent capitalists you love to suck and buy from. My stupid father controlled the Caucasus while your father was shaking his tail to Gorbachov. We were smuggling all what you desired to have during the “real socialism” times, do you remember? The USSR is dead my dear wife. You're useless now. I have my children and my position well secured. No one cares any longer who I fuck and no one is so stupid as to challenge me for that.”
“We'll see what the men have to say about this.”
“That Guntram is discreet, polite and totally out of their way? Oblomov and Malchenko like him very much. Strepovich, Baragan and Raditsky bought some of his paintings unaware that he was my lover and they also like him. Baragan asked him to do a portrait of his wife. No one has a problem with Guntram because he doesn't try to influence me or gain power. My five most powerful warlords accept him and I suspect they are glad that he's around because “I'm more easy to speak with,” according to Strepovich.
“This will not end like this, Constantin Ivanovich!”
“It can end any way you want, happily or badly for you; your choice. Now, get out!”
Olga Fedorovna slammed the door leaving the house more furious than ever. Constantin sighed and checked his watch. Time to tell the little monsters a story and put them to bed. He had had enough for one day.
Chapter 10
Guntram de Lisle's Diary
October 20th, 2002
Yesterday was my birthday and now I'm officially twenty years old. As Constantin is away on business—I can't help to remember how we spend together my previous birthday—I went out with some of the guys from the art class, Peter Steenburg, Clarissa Adams and Mary Higgs. I have a good relationship with them because they are the only ones who don't laugh at me. I'm not very popular with Mr. Southern's class. My style is too old compared to what all of them do. I'm also too young and most of them have already finished their MAs and I'm on the first year of the BA. They went to St. Martin's—one of the best worldwide—and I study Art History. No wonder that I got the “posh boy” nickname. I try to do my best to dress normally, without bespoken jackets or expensive brands when Constantin is away, but the other days I have to make the bloody parade. I completely hate it. I draw very figuratively, nothing abstract, almost like a hyperrealist and truly don't understand what they're doing. I get many negative critics from them. OK, last time, it was my fault but telling me that I should paint for the “Sarah Kay” series was too much. I was very vulgar with my “try to draw something more than stick figures, copy something classical if you can, and then, criticise my work.” Also having a contract with Robertson's Gallery, one of the most exclusive in London, irks them very much. Mr. Robertson's, a very old and kind man, the one who bought my first series, likes my work very much and sells it mostly to private collectors or companies. Yeah, I'm the type of artist whose work is worth to be hung in a hotel lobby or in a bank's meetings room or you can give to your grandmo
ther for her birthday.
So coming back to birthdays, mine was yesterday. We all went to the pub around the corner and started to drink from 7:00 till 9:00 when the bar was closed but we stayed till ten. Clarissa and Mary are roommates and they live like 7 blocks from the studio and we walked them home. The girls were not drunk but very expressive and yelling excitedly at the most stupid things. Getting the key in the keyhole was challenging but we managed to do it.
I told Peter that I would walk with him to the tube as I was certain that Yuri would be also “walking me”
from somewhere in the dark. The former KGB boys took very seriously this “protection” thing. He's your shadow but you never catch him unless he wants. I still don't know how he does it. But he's a great guy and bribes me with nuts and muffins from Victoria Station.
We got to Holborn Station and Peter asked me if I wanted to go to his flat. I refused thinking that he wanted to drink some more and I was starting to feel dizzy and wanted to be in my bed and check if I had an e-mail from Constantin.
“Come on, it will be fun for both of us. You're always alone.”
“I have school tomorrow and then, pass by the shop. There's a large new load of old priceless Worcestershire Porcelain pugs waiting to be unpacked and cleaned before Sunday. I can't drink anything more.”
“Spend the night with me,” he said and I gaped at him like a big dodo. I think he drank too much.
“No, thanks. I can't. I have someone at home. Sorry.”
“Are you in a relationship? I didn't know that. Pity.”
“Yes, sorry. See you tomorrow after.”
“I'm not jealous. You can spend the night with me.” He insisted and took my hand and kissed it the middle of a dark street.
“Look Peter. I'm not interested at all. Good night.”
“Don't you like me?” I have to admit he's very good looking. All the girls and some boys drool over him: tall, green eyes, black hair, witty and self-confident.
“I'm with another person and I don't want to cheat on him. He's a great fellow and I don't want you. End of story.”
“All right, you miss it. Would have been a great way to end the day, Guntram. I'll be back. You're quite sexy to drop only after one try,” he told me and just like that, without any kind of warning, kissed me, this time on the lips. I pushed him away and the dork just laughed and went to the underground. I was kind of shocked, incredulous with his “love declaration” —better “fuck declaration” —and I turned around to find a really pissed off, no furious Mikhail Massaiev standing there.
“What were you doing?”
“Nothing! He kissed me. I wasn't expecting it.”
“This is serious boy! Very serious!” He barked and grabbed my arm with iron fingers. I have a mark there. He half dragged me for thirty metres till a black Mercedes stopped on the street; he opened the back door and pushed me inside, sitting next to me. The driver was Yuri Rimsky and he was also looking furious.
“If boss sees it, you're dead! We all are!”
“What? He jumped on me!” I protested but Mikhail slapped me lightly on the face and I was now furious with him. “Get your hands away, idiot! I'll tell Repin about your behaviour!”
“You'd better be quiet, little idiot!” He shouted enraged and he hit me for a second time, much stronger than before. I tried to punch him but he easily trapped my right wrist and squeezed it very hard. I wailed in pain and fought to disentangle myself from his grip. Impossible.
“Listen to me well, little idiot. You should never let anyone but Mr. Repin to touch you! Your life depends on it! If you have been flirting with this boy, I'll personally oversee your punishment and you won't like it. If Mr. Repin finds out that you have a parallel relationship, you both are dead and it's going to be a very slow and painful death!”
“Mr. Massaiev, remember you're not supposed to touch Guntram. Mr. Repin will be most upset if you do.” Yuri saved my ass because Mikhail was looking like a madman and I was becoming very afraid of him.
“Why does he think that he can have sex with you?” Mikhail shook me once more.
“I don't know, he never said anything in that sense ever.”
“You are grounded for the next month. Only to school or work. I'm going to change the days you go to this atelier. Fix your working schedule or better quit,” Mikhail barked at me.
“You can't do that!”
“Guntram, it's for the best. Let Mr. Massaiev fix this and do exactly as he tells you. It's the only way to prove your innocence.” Yuri said and I realised that he was truly concerned about me.
“Why? It was nothing!”
“Guntram, don't be difficult. I know it's inconvenient for you to change your schedule, but it's for the best. Mr. Repin will be very displeased if he knows that you're in the same classroom with a man that just assaulted you,” Yuri interfered.
“It was a stupid kiss!”
“A kiss today, tomorrow, who knows? The best is if we separate you from him. It's very uncomfortable to work side by side with a person who's sexually interested in you. It will be bad for your concentration and this people later start with rumours. Your art is what you care most and it can't be ruined by a horny wannabe artist,” Yuri finished.
“I think you're right, Yuri. I didn't think on that.”
“Guntram, you have to let us do our work and trust us more. We know better. I'm sorry if I shouted at you. Are you all right?” Mikhail asked me, looking truly contrite and concerned. “Is your wrist fine?” He asked me when he saw that I was still rubbing it to alleviate the pain.
“You have a strong hand Mikhail Petrovich but I'm all right. I swear I did nothing to get his attentions.”
“That's good to hear, child.”
“I have class tomorrow after, should I go?”
“No, let me speak with your teacher. We will change the days and you can inform your employer. She's a kind lady and knows that you're a student.”
“Yes, but I'll forewarn Mrs. Smithers tomorrow after school. I have to be there at 4:00.”
“Do that Guntram. Are you feeling all right really? You look very pale and you're gasping for air.”
“I have a headache. Too many beers and one whiskey,” I confessed starting to feel sick.
“Lay down against me. You look like you're already starting the hangover. I'll give you something for it when we're home.” He smirked, shaking his head like the grown-ups do when they see a child doing something truly stupid. I didn't want to lay my head against his chest, still sore from the slaps, but he has always been very kind to me and anyone can have a bad day. I obeyed him and he stroke my hair murmuring something like “you're a good boy; you don't want to cause troubles to us.”
When we arrived home, I went to my room directly to change into my pyjamas and go to sleep. I had a huge headache and the room was moving like a wild boat. Over my desk was a nice bouquet of blue and white flowers with a box of tea and butter cookies from Fortnum and Mason—OK, posh boy is not so undeserved—and a card written by Constantin “Happy birthday my angel” Inside the flowers was a small box with a Watermann fountain and dip pen. I was so moved by it that I didn't noticed that Mikhail was there holding a glass in his hand.
“Guntram, you need to drink this and go to bed.”
“What's in there?”
“Vitamins and water. You'll need it against the hangover.”
“Constantin sent me this. It's amazing. I was expecting an e-mail but not this. Do you think it's a good moment to call him?”
“No, leave him alone for the time being. He has some troubles with Lintorff and is under a lot of pressure.”
I felt like trash, Constantin has troubles with that hideous man and I added one more by letting myself be kissed by a guy who only wants a good fuck. I'm a jackass, unworthy of him.
“I didn't know it. He told me nothing.”
“He doesn't want to worry you. Now drink it and go to bed. Tomorrow you can write to him.”
�
��Lintorff is very bad, isn't he?”
“He's an ugly and treacherous adversary. He has no problems to resort to violence when it suits his needs. He leads the Order with an iron fist. There's the rumour that once two members rose against him during one of their meetings. He accused them of treason because they had leaked some internal documents and ordered to behead them in front of all people.”
“Behead as cut in off their heads?”
“Exactly, with a sword they keep. All top members have one and the Hochmeister is always buried with his. Lintorff has one that is a copy from the Executioners Sword's from the Spanish Inquisition. Long and strong blade with a Jesus Christ in the cross in the handle. Had been used several times, especially in 1989. The murderer, —they prefer to be called Executioner— refused for some reason and dared Lintorff to do it by himself. He did, in front of the whole Order and killed that man too.”
“But this is horrible! It can't be true! People don't do such things!”
“He's no ordinary people, Guntram. They're fanatics for the Church and give a lot of money to it. They lurk in the shadows and do whatever is in their hands to get more power. Mr. Repin is arguing with them over some privatizations in Central Europe. Lintorff respects the boss, but he can change his mind at any time.”
“Can't Constantin go to the police?”
“What for? They control everything in Europe. It has been their territory since the XVII century. They manage up to the last cent a junkie spends in his fix. The people who benefit from these illegal businesses needs them to clean their money and have protection from the police and Justice. You have to fight with them in their own terms.
Usually, Lintorff prefers to settle problems peacefully but if he's in a killing spree, there's no place on this earth where you can hide.”
“What can I do for Constantin?”
“Let him work. It's not the first time they have a disagreement. They will show their teeth at each other and then, will negotiate and reach a joint solution. Be nice to him.”
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