Boris Malchenko told me that Lintorff had offered a truce for two months, after my attack and the first month was over and they want to negotiate once more before they start to kill each other again. Constantin-Morozov lost the control of the gas in Georgia as Lintorff forced all the investors to withdraw their support and there was not enough time for find new ones. Something called Gasrom was also lost and that was a huge hit for Constantin as he was counting on it for balancing the bad figures he was getting in Moscow.
I do hope they fix their problems. I don't want that Constantin is hurt because of whatever they're doing.
I don't love him anymore but I don't want something to happen to him. He betrayed me when he lied to me but he was always a good friend of mine. All those allegations about Federico can't be true. Why would he do it? He knew that I loved him and I would have never gone away with someone else.
No news about that woman and every time I ask, I only get an “it's none of your concern. Mr. Repin will decide her fate. She's alive.”
Mikhail took me to the Louvre but I couldn't enter, to much people around and I just panicked. I can't stand unknown people around me. It's crazy, I know, but I just can’t bring myself to go into a place full with other human beings. I feel physically bad, with palpitations and everything. He had to take me out. He tried again the next day with the Musée Quai d'Orsay with the same results. Just the huge entrance hall, full with tourists made me feel dizzy and short of breath.
Yesterday I was luckier with the Tuilleries; I suppose that the open spaces and great distances between people let me be more at ease, but not much. Mikhail has a lot of patience with me because he was silent all the time and discreetly sat next to me with a book in Russian and my backpack with my sketching things, which landed on my lap. I opened it and stared at the sketch pad for a long time, doubtful and afraid. My left hand is still useless, cased in a plaster but I feel no pain in the right one. I thought I could draw something, but not people. I focused myself on some sparrows and jackdaws looking for food. I miss the squirrels from Hyde Park.
A couple approached me and stood very close to me, examining my work and I nearly panicked.
Fortunately, Mikhail asked them if they needed something with an expression I've never seen in him and that was truly terrifying. They left in haste.
“Thank you.”
“Not at all. It's my line of business,” he chortled. “It was hard to be part Russian and work at the French Embassy as military attaché. Neither side liked me. Glad to know I haven't lost my touch. Those birds are nice.”
“Nothing that could be compared to before. Rubbish,” I replied, tearing the pages down. I felt better after it.
“Guntram, the birds were fine.”
“No, they weren't. Are you an Art Critic now?”
“Well, at least you react to something,” He huffed, looking at me crossed. “Don't take it on me.”
“Don't you think I have enough criteria as to know what's good and what's a piece of crap?”
“Watch your language.”
“Sure, I'm the nice Guntram, the polite boy who happens to fuck a mobster but he has to be nice and obedient.” I exploded at him. Faster than I could move away, he took my right wrist in a painful grip and squeezed it for a brief moment, enough to cause pain but avoid to leave a mark.
“Be nice, Guntram. We all want that you feel all right, but we will not tolerate any disrespectful behaviour from you. What you went through was bad and undeserved, but it's boss' call to fix it. You can do nothing, so save us all the prima donna moment. I hate hysterical boys and you will not like me when I'm displeased. Compose yourself and be nice. If you ever use the same tone you did just now with me, with Mr. Repin, what happened to you in that cellar would be a wild party compared to what he could do to you. Don't try his patience, boy.”
“I'm going home.”
“You're going nowhere but where Mr. Repin tells you. You're his lover and he loves you deeply. He will do everything in his hand for you but you must also put some of your part. The only thing you can think about is how to run away from him when he's your only friend!”
“I want to leave all this; I'm no part of this world. I destroyed his marriage!”
“That marriage never existed, boy. He thinks of getting rid of his wife since a long time, much before you came into his life.”
“He has a family! Don't you understand it? I destroyed it! I only wanted to get a family of my own and ruined four children's lives!”
“You ruined nothing. If they're unhappy is because their mother doesn't care much about them—she only cares about herself—and their father is always away, avoiding the mother. They love more their nanny than their parents. Maria Ingratievna is always there for them. The boss wants to change it and wants to share his children with you. He's offering you a permanent place at his side! Guntram, come to St. Petersburg, give him a chance to mend what was broken.”
“I don't trust him anymore. He lied to me.”
“Because he loved you. He didn't want you to suffer. He's sorry for his mistake. He was with you all the time. Not many would do it for a lover. Guntram, you're not a child any longer. You have to grow up. Nobody is perfect and we all have faults. We have to find the way to cope with them.”
“I don't love him any longer. He's not the man I thought he was. He's a total stranger to me. You also; look at you; you've just hurt me because you didn't like my tone!”
“No, I wouldn't hurt you. I just wanted you to realise where you're standing. We are your friends but you have to come back to us. Rejecting what we are will not change anything and will only cause you pain. You're not Russian or ever lived under a system like that. It's either being part of the Mafia or sweep the streets. They organise themselves like that. We both are French and we can't understand it. If he does not do it, someone else will. Many want his position, starting by his wife. If she went against you it was because she wanted to weaken him, not because she was jealous! She had support from someone inside our organization but she has not told us who.”
“She told the men not to mar my face so I would make a nice body and Constantin would be devastated.
It was Morozov's idea.” I confessed. “I think Yuri suspected something because he made me carry the small mobile with me when he normally had it. He told me to switch it on if there was something wrong.”
“Yuri was poisoned in the morning, this is why he couldn't be with you. According to the autopsy he died at 12:00.”
“No, I spoke with him. He was barely alive, but he spoke with me at 3:00. I'm sure. He told me about the mobile. I had no idea what it was,” I said very agitated.
“Don't think about it. I've heard many strange stories from combat situations. A battlefield is the perfect place to find God. Are you certain about Morozov?”
“I don't know any longer. If you say that I spoke with a corpse…”
“The estimated death time could be wrong also.”
“I think she said it to Stephanov, but I could be mistaken. I was in shock.”
“You did well in telling me. Mr. Repin will know what to do.”
I'm still thinking about what he told me. I don't know. Perhaps I should give Constantin another chance.
I was not always forthcoming with him. What am I thinking? I don't love him at all. Maybe I never did and was only happy to have him around, I don't know. I can't love him. He's dragging me to Russia when I don't want to go there.
I should tell it to him very clearly. We both agreed we could split the moment one didn't want to continue. We only swore to be true to each other. No hard feelings.
The only thing Constantin wanted was to be back in Paris. The meeting with Lintorff had been frustrating as his opponent was bent on blaming him for everything that had transpired. He wanted an impossible compensation ( carte blanche in the Romanian privatizations, four billion euros to balance his losses and Morozov's head on a silver tray) or go to total war. “I even gave your wife b
ack! I always respected our agreements and do you repay me like this?” He had shouted and Constantin had been very afraid that Lintorff could be interested in finding out his reasons for willing to kill his wife. “Konrad, be reasonable please. Morozov acted all by himself. He wanted to depose me as you're perfectly aware. He came to you first.”
“I refused his offer. I honoured my oath!”
“I had nothing to do with this!”
“Morozov is a rat who follows your every command. If you're not so much in power as I believed, perhaps it would be good that you're removed.”
“I control my territory. Pray that I don't come to yours!”
“Please, gentlemen. We don't need to argue,” Ferdinand von Kleist interfered. “Showing our tempers will not solve this misunderstanding.”
“I had losses for over 4.8 billion!” Lintorff shouted enraged, ignoring his second in command and long time friend. He didn't want peace, he wanted to go to war and Ferdinand was delaying the inevitable once more. At least, Michael Dähler understood much better the whole concept. This Russian scum was blatantly testing his defence abilities, attacking his associates -provoking an uprising within the Order-and Ferdinand could only think on the costs of a war!
“My companies lost 7.8 billion thanks to you and many more in contracts!”
“Sell some of your paintings,” the Duke retorted heatedly.
“Konrad, we never had troubles in the past. Why would I attack you now? It's suicidal for me!”
Constantin tried to reason with Konrad once more but he always took very bad any kind of challenges toward his leadership. Treason was something that simply drove him mad and into one of his killing sprees.
“You betrayed my trust in you. Remember who helped you after 1991.”
“I always allowed your brothers to work in my land. We shared our expertise with each other.”
“I have an internal uprising and many challenges on my leadership because you killed Schäffer.”
“I swear on my children's heads that I did not give the order. That was Morozov's reaction when you destroyed his company!”
“I'm far from finished.”
“Konrad, what you're asking is impossible at the moment. I simply can't afford it.”
“Your offer?”
“Morozov's head but with my own methods, my deepest apologies to you, Gasrom entirely handed over you and 1.5 billion for your losses.”
“That's nothing.”
“I'm trying to balance my own companies and associates. I can't control the four hundred groups operating in the former USSR without some cash. I need time to pay you 2.2 billion.”
“It's four billion, Repin.”
“I'll go to war then.”
“As you wish.”
“I hope you can contain my men when they ram into your territory, once I'm gone. It's a Pyrrhic victory what you will achieve,”
“What do you suggest?”
“A stalemate. Six months to clean our territories from traitors. Then, we will meet again and set new rules for us. I'll give you 2.2 billion as compensation, but I want free reign in Central Asia and Latin America.”
“All right, you can have Central Asia. I like Brazil very much to leave it.”
“I understand; we will coexist as we did before.”
“Exactly. Central Asia is all yours. Stay away from Europe, unless you plan to invest your winnings with us. We resent the trust you're placing in the Americans for that matter.”
“I can't force my associates to purchase your services, but rest assured that I will make my displeasure at their ways very well known. We should always remain with our friends.”
“Very well, we have an understanding. We will see each other in St. Petersburg in mid-February.”
Lintorff sealed the pact offering his hand, much to Ferdinand von Kleist and Ivan Oblomov's relief.
“I will be delighted to receive you at my house.”
“One more thing,” Constantin heard Lintorff's clear baritone voice and he suppressed a shudder. “Yes, Konrad?”
“I'm just curious about something. Why are you so furious with your wife? When she came to me she mentioned something about London. I rejected her, of course.”
“She ruined something that was mine. It was the straw that broke the camel.”
“Was it an artwork?”
“You can say so.”
Guntram de Lisle's diary. August 24th, 2003
Constantin returned yesterday evening from his meeting with the Hochmeister. He was utterly tired and defeated. I don't know what Lintorff might have done to him but it must be serious because he was the whole time engaged in a heated discussion with Oblomov and Boris Malchenko. They were even yelling at each other—and it's not the way Russians normally talk as Mikhail tells me—He came to bed very late and all the things I wanted to tell him died on my lips the minute I saw his sad expression. I could only move aside and ask him to come closer. He caressed my hair for a long time, kissed me tenderly on the lips and mumbled: “you're the best thing that ever happened to me.”
We drive to the airport in two hours.
Chapter 14
January, 2004
St. Petersburg
“Well, Mikhail Petrovich, what do you think?” Oblomov asked the man standing in front of him.
“He's not getting better. In fact, he's worse than before. He does his best to hide it in front of the children and Repin, but it's a time bomb. He's permanently terrified. Boss should let him go. Not even two months ago he tried to take his life. He does not speak at all, barely eats. The only time when he acts normal is when he's with the children.
The smallest one, Vania, loves him very much. The girl, Sofia Constatinovna is learning to paint with him. When the boss is at home, he's nice to him, never shouts or is nasty, but he's very sad. He wants to go back to Argentina and leave everything behind.”
“Repin will never allow it. He cares for the boy. I think he's secretly happy that he's so sick so he can control him much better,” Oblomov considered as he made a gesture to Massaiev to sit in front of him.
“Mr. Repin should understand that this is a broken toy. The boy I brought from Argentina is dead. He will never jump to his neck again. The doctors say that he can do nothing in bed. I have troubles to save all his drawings from destruction. That oil portrait of the children? I had to keep it in my room every night so he wouldn't destroy it. I count his material every morning so he can tear nothing apart. This man, the one in London, Robertson sold several of his latest drawings and paints and sent him a check for £ 11,600. I had to force him to write the letter to that priest he sends the money to. It's almost impossible to take him anywhere outside the house. More than five people in the room and he has a nervous breakdown.”
“And the boss?”
“He takes great care of him. He's with him every time he can, praises his paints. He was very happy when he got the portrait with the children as a Christmas present. On the other hand, he does not let him speak about leaving him. After Guntram cut his wrists open, he threatened with taking revenge on those poor people he likes in Argentina. The boy is very frightened about it, thinking that the boss will waste his time with a priest and some lousy devils.”
“This can't continue any longer. It's not good for either of them. Constantin is very nervous and we need him with a cool head if we want to survive this internal war.”
“Ivan Ivanovich, even if this would be an act of mercy, I can't do it.”
“NO! We have to find the way to send the boy away, somewhere Constantin can't touch him.”
“He's too sick to travel or fend for himself. He can't work and needs constant medical care.”
“Perhaps we should return him to his own people,” Oblomov pondered.
“Argentina? He would be dead in less than two months.”
“No, his real people, you understand me.”
“I see your point, but how?”
“I don't know. I have to fi
nd a way to convince Lintorff that this is the best deal of the year, like I did with Aliosha Antonov.”
“He's not Lintorff's type, Mr. Oblomov.”
“Quite the contrary. I'm convinced that Guntram is exactly what he wants,” Ivan said with deep satisfaction. 'Lintorff would do anything to piss off Constantin and who knows? The boy is good looking and he kind of grows on you. Even Massaiev can't lay a hand on him. If he took Aliosha, he can take Guntram too. The irony of life. Lintorff starting a NGO for Constantin's former lovers!'
“Well done Massaiev. Leave it into my hands.” Oblomov dismissed the man. When he was alone in his office, Oblomov let a long sigh escape through his lips. He was sick of this mess and felt responsible for Guntram's
“accident”. He had warned Constantin several times, but the idiot had disregarded each one of his words. He only cared about having Guntram for himself no matter the consequences; and here they were smacking his face. A boy, a little older than his own son, good tempered and docile had been crushed like a cockroach because of an intrigue made by a stupid woman and a greedy man. 'I would have killed Morozov with my own hands!'
'The boy will be a hundred times better in the Order's territory than here. Constantin is one step from exploding if he doesn't improve. Those are brutal and crazy Germans, but they stick to their codes and Guntram is one of them. Lefèbre told us that his own father offered the boy to Lintorff in exchange for his life and he accepted the offer. He thinks that they were looking for the child for two or three years, but finally they thought that he was dead too. Exactly like in the Middle Ages; one hostage to prove your loyalty and good will. Those Germans are truly crazy!'
'A lunatic with codes is a hundred times better than a sane man without codes.'
'I wonder how Lefèbre could know so much about the Order if he was never a member. That Frenchman knows much more than he tells us. He must have inside contacts at top level, much better than Malchenko's. He understands and predicts their moves much better than anyone we know.'
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