“If you insist on delving into these minuscule matters,fine,but keep it away from me. I don’t have time for such nonsense. If there is a discrepancy, it’s probably a meager amount for us, anyway.”
“Probably.” Once the numbers were final, I could decide whether the theft was worth our time to pursue. Some skimming was expected, especially in areas of the world where colonialism had damaged the culture and pillaged the economy, but this charity was fully funded and yet functionally dead.
Which meant people weren’t getting their annual, single dose of a generic medication that kept them from going blind. It was so simple, really, and yet the meds were not getting to the afflicted people.
Because thieves were stealing the money.
At least my open laptop hadn’t flopped across the table and smacked Michel in the chest. He probably would have stomped around the plane, shouting at the cabin staff until the point had been made that he was deeply offended.
And then the staff would be obligated to be obsequious to calm him down.
And then he’d find other faults, real or imagined, to chastise them about.
And then I’d have to intervene and smooth everything over.
And then I would still wonder, on my return flight to London next week, if my food had spit in it.
I drew a deep breath, keeping everything about my face and posture calm and unbothered. I was a master at it, holding everything from irritation to rage behind a smooth mask.
The whine of the airplane’s engines fell from their landing crescendo, and the plane pivoted off the runway, bumping over the tarmac as it taxied toward the private terminal.
Michel said, “I don’t know why Don Badajoz insisted on having his bachelor party in the US, of all places.”
“If you see him, you know he prefers to be called John Borbon.” Or else I’d have to smooth that over, too.
“The States are so puritanical these days. Monaco would have been better. Or Paris. Or Singapore.”
His list of better options continued while I packed up, stowing my laptop and notes in my courier bag. I should just keep my uncle Michel away from John. “Yes, all right.”
“Even Moscow would have been better.”
I squinted at him. “Maybe for you.”
He brushed his hand through the air, flipping away nonsense. “Yes, well, I suppose it was important toJohnfor you to come.”
Michel Pictet was my uncle on my mother’s side and thus a Dane by descent, so no one cared if he went to Russia, even though he should be careful, considering he had contacts like me in his phone. “Yes, it’s importantto Johnfor me to be here.”
John and I had been kids at boarding school together since we were five, and thus, he was closer to my heart than my genetically related uncle Michel sitting across the table.
“Well, it’s convenient that we’re holding a family corporation meeting here at the same time. Two birds, one stone, and all that.”
Uncle Michel was all about killing birds. “Yes, convenient.”
“And we can meet with other contacts while we’re here. Business contacts. You’ll have supper and afters at the Sanctuary tonight?”
It was best to stay neutral with Michel. “That’s the plan. John’s bachelor blowout starts late tonight.”
“When does Konstantin arrive?”
“Later today. He couldn’t get away before. Exams, you know.” Konstantin, my rather younger brother who had chosen to go by the very Russian diminutiveKostya,was a junior at Harvard and had finally aged into the States’ puritanicaldrinking age. Europe, of course, trusted its citizens more, even its younger ones.
“Will he be at the Sanctuary tonight?”
“He’s got a room there, so probably by nine or so.”
“Good. He should be present.”
Odd.“Yes, John’s been an important figure in Kostya’s life, too.”
