by VK Fourstone
“Actually, it would be cool to break into the New York branch,” Bike declared pensively. “America is the motherland of rock’n’roll. Jerry Lee Lewis, Chuck Berry, Buddy Holly! I’d like to take a look at it. But what I love most about America is Elvis, Harleys and the know-how for making money!”
“We’ll do it,” said Isaac, slapping his friend on the shoulder. “You can be sure of that. It is the only option. Dig up as much useful information as you can. I think you can even find a plan of the building. After all, it used to be a museum.”
Isaac’s mobile phone started chirping. A text had arrived.
“Yes! From Michelle!” Isaac exclaimed delightedly and read the text avidly. It was very brief and rather strange.
“The Monte Carlo Bay Hotel in 30 minutes. Dress code white. If you’re one second late, I’ll leave.”
“Who’s got white trousers,” Isaac shouted. He had a white short, but no white trousers.
“Are you joking?” Bikie chuckled.
“I have,” Pascal responded. “I found some pretty good outfits at my place.”
“Pascal, please, let’s dash!”
“Where to?”
“To your place, of course! For the trousers!” Isaac commanded. “Sorry guys, but our conversation has to wait a while! See you this evening!”
8
Twenty-eight minutes after Michelle texted, Isaac screeched to a halt at the hotel. He was wearing a white shirt, white pants with the bottoms rolled up slightly and light-colored shoes. Pascal’s pants were a little too long and baggy for him, so that they slipped down slightly, but with the belt tightened up they were basically okay. The shoes fitted him perfectly. The ex-Veggie’s wardrobe offered up about a dozen pairs of different-colored pants and half a dozen pairs of shoes.
He did not see Michelle by the hotel. And she has not shown up two, five, and even ten minutes later. Isaac was getting nervous. He texted her: “Hi! I’m here” – but got no answer. He reread her message again and again. Everything was right. It was from Michelle. The Monte Carlo Bay – there it was. There couldn’t be any mistake. “Maybe her text got delayed,” Isaac thought anxiously. “Maybe it wasn’t even from today? Maybe it’s just a nasty trick?” Theories flashed through his love-struck mind with ferocious speed. Some of them frightened him, others gave him hope.
After twenty minutes Michelle finally emerged from the hotel. She was dressed all in white too: a short, semi-transparent frock, white Roman sandals with straps that wound round her legs from the ankles almost up to the knees and two large pearl earrings. Everyone turned to look at her, both men and women.
Stopping two steps short of Isaac, she spoke to the parking attendant: “Park his scooter please. And I need my car.” Then she turned to Isaac. “Well done. You can do it when you want to. I saw that you arrived in time. I was finishing my coffee in the lobby.”
Isaac turned a bit sulky, imagining her examining him indolently through the dark glass of the lobby in his nervous, emotional state, twisting his head in all directions. To anyone watching, he looked rather funny and stupid. But he did not reply or show his hurt feelings. He waited to see what was coming next.
“Don’t be offended. You were so amusing and terribly charming.” Michelle cast an eye over his outfit. “I see you didn’t have time to buy flowers? Or you think the ones you left with the concierge will be just enough?”
Isaac could not help blushing. He should have guessed! What a fool! He could not really have done it in time, but she had a point. He blundered again, dammit! Even one simple rose would do.
The parking attendant brought up a silvery Jaguar Silverstone. The classy old-time convertible was in ideal condition. Retro cars like that are quite usual in Monaco, although in other places you hardly ever come across them.
“Will you drive?”
“Yes, of course,” Isaac answered warily – that car was worth a fortune. “But where are we going?”
“To Saint Tropez.”
Isaac got in the driving seat without asking any more questions. Not about where exactly they were going, or what kind of white party this was, or when they were supposed to come back. The important thing was that Michelle had forgiven him, or at least given him a chance to put things right. What was really important was that she was finally with him, and he would figure out the rest later somehow.
They arrived at Club 55 in San Tropez. It was a fancy party, with people in white dancing, drinking cocktails and champagne, running to the sea now and again to take a dip. A totally awesome DJ fired out hit after hit.
Isaac took Michelle out to stroll along the beach in the dark. The long, sandy arc ran off into the night, seeming as if it would never end. Along the shoreline little white craft and beautiful motorboats bobbed about on the water and a bit further luxurious yachts were riding at anchor. Among them Isaac recognized the black and white beauty “Michelle” that belonged to his girlfriend. In hopes she was still his girlfriend.
The owner of this opulent floating home had thawed out and wasn’t angry any more. Over the course of this two hours drive to San Tropez the coldness was diminishing. She radiated affection and warmth, although she was trying not to show it. When she thanked Isaac for his beautiful poem, he decided to tell her everything. From beginning to end. Starting with how he almost became a Happy, and ending with stealing back Pascal’s creativity.
Michelle listened attentively, not believing her ears, occasionally asking a clarifying question. As he spoke, Isaac sensed how he was gradually transforming in her eyes from an ordinary guy into a serious, ambitious man who was risking his freedom for an important goal. She was very intelligent and Isaac enjoyed the conversation. By telling her everything he shrugged a mountainous load off his shoulders: now that nothing was being held back any longer, he was not afraid of losing his girlfriend because of yet another unplanned emergency.
“You know, Isaac, you’re turning out to be a really cool guy,” Michelle’s admiration was genuine. “Somehow I never expected this kind of thing could really happen. That anyone was capable of this sort of thing.”
“Oh come on,” he replied, embarrassed. “This is a team project. Everyone supports each other.”
“Yeah, I can imagine. And what are you going to do next?”
“At first we wanted to tell the police everything, but we decided not to risk it and to hack into one of the servers. So next up is America, New York. So far it’s not practical to get to the servers in the other branches. How and when isn’t clear yet. There’s no hurry, the most important thing is to prepare properly. Now that we have Pascal’s money, everything has become much simpler. And then Pascal waking up, his reaction… now I feel sure I’m doing it right. While we were rushing to fetch the white pants, we almost crashed at a turn and you know what? He shouted ‘oops, fuck!’, and then he smiled. I mean, really smiled.”
“Why didn’t you tell me all this earlier?”
“I really wanted to, honestly. You can’t even imagine how much. But it was too dangerous. And above all, it would have been stupid. I would have felt worried about you. If anything happened, you’d be an accomplice and could have gone down with the rest of us.”
“I’m going to New York too!”
“No, that’s out of the question. We don’t know how all this will end. We’re men and we can stand up for ourselves. Everyone joined in voluntarily and knows what he has got himself into. The very thought of you ending up in a cell gives me cold shivers. So better not come.”
“I can stay in a separate place from you. You have no right to say I can’t.”
“Let’s not talk about that right now. We are alone together, strolling along the beach at night. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’ve missed you so much!” Isaac turned towards Michelle, took hold of both her hands and added: “I love you.”
The girl looked at him, thinking about something else. Isaac suddenly saw that she was crying.
“Michelle, Michelle, what's wrong with
you? What happened?”
“You have no idea what it is! You order yourself not to respond to calls, texts, and within five minutes, break your own promise. It's humiliating when you constantly look at the phone to check if there is a text from you but there is nothing! And in despair again and again you check the phone. And there is nothing! To wait for the time when are you going to be back. To live through these days is suffocating. You just don't breathe, as you understand, that there is no air, your chest feels like it was strapped with a belt. And you just feel so bad.”
Michelle wept, and Isaac was lost, not knowing what to do.
“And you lie to me time and again, I can feel it, but just can't help myself, because I need you. Can you imagine what it's like? Be ready for any humiliation, just to be there for you. And I'm not just some girl, I'm strong, and you took over me and crushed me. It seems to me that even if I found out that you were not alone, even then I didn't have the strength to throw you out of my head. This is a real torture, and the tormentor is the one you need most! Maybe for you, the time flies, but for me, every minute felt like an hour. The hour of torment, without hope! Every thought, every minute, whatever it is, ends with you. I was in a terrible state, I drank sedatives, and went to Miami to rehab. And you, even knowing that I'm leaving for a long time just did nothing! You're so callous, thinking only about yourself, you felt nothing! You're awfully cruel, what did I do to deserve this torture?”
Michelle finally burst out crying.
Isaac had no idea that someone could love him so much. He hugged her and held her very close, petted her. She kept crying, and he couldn't calm her down. He kissed her hands, eyes, quivering lips, cheeks, forehead, hugged and caressed.
"I am sorry, sorry, sorry," he said, kissing her lips, feeling an incredibly strong surge of tenderness.
Michelle did not respond to his kisses. Isaac felt pain, but it seemed like nothing to him compared to what experienced his own girl. All of that his own fault.
“I love you, my dear, I promise I will never cause you so much pain. I will tell you things. Just don't leave me. I love you very much. Forgive me, please.”
“Take me home, please.”
“Please don't leave me,” taking her hands in his, Isaac got on his knees.
Michelle, swaying slightly, looked at him. In her tearful swollen eyes was fatigue. And love. Her hysteria passed, she tried to pull herself together.
"Stand up, Isaac. It is not necessary to me. Just remember that I am the person for whom you are like air. I don't want to be dying like that anymore.”
“Never! I swear to you! Never!”
Michelle leaned on Isaac's arm, and for a long time they wandered along the beach. Isaac was happy. Happier than when he found the Professor or when they uploaded Pascal. Even when he paid for Vicky's surgery couldn't compare. It was a different happiness, not a sense of relief or victory, but something bigger and stronger.
Michelle wound her arms round his neck and kissed him. That night they did not go back to Monaco – they were picked up by a launch. Isaac did not have time to take a good look at the gorgeous yacht or the huge bedroom. Drowned in Michelle’s tender embraces, he did not even feel the slight swell.
This night was very different from the first one that was filled with passion. This night was filled with tenderness.
9
“Where’s Isaac?” Pascal asked uneasily the next day, when he arrived at the villa earlier than usual.
“He texted to say he’ll be back after lunch. He spent the night in Saint Tropez.”
“Doing what? I’ve got some urgent news.”
“If it’s urgent, out with it. What’s happened?”
Pascal told the others he had been summoned to the police station where he was questioned for a long time. What interested them most was why he had given money for the operation. They also inquired where he was on that night when he wasn’t at home. Whether he drank alcohol or had something else. Pascal had played a Veggie the best he could, answering briefly in monosyllables - the video that had been made of him when he was still a Veggie was really helpful. He didn’t really know how plausible this show was, though. The commissioner was very considerate, had not pressed him at all.
“Oh, yeah,” Bikie chuckled. “He’s a real tender-heart for sure. But he keeps digging and just won’t let up.”
“Digging?” Link was surprised. “You mean this is not the first time?”
“No. Isaac’s been to see him once. But everything went OK. We thought there wouldn’t be any more questions.”
“That’s not good. Bikie, call Isaac and find out exactly when he is coming.”
Two hours later Isaac hurtled into the sitting room. Michelle followed him in, gazing around curiously. She said hello and sat down quietly in the corner.
Bikie gave Isaac an inquisitive look.
“She is in the loop,” said Isaac, answering the silent question. “What has happened?”
“I was questioned,” Pascal answered. “Commissioner Pellegrini called me in. He suspects you of forcing me to pay for Vicky.”
“What about you not being a Happy?”
“I don’t think he realized that. Or if he did, he didn’t show it.”
“What exactly was he asking?”
“Many things. Like where I was that night, what I was doing between Lyon and Paris, why I smelled of alcohol, why I gave the money for the operation. I said I didn’t remember that night. I thought maybe I’d been riding in a car. About the alcohol, I said I didn’t drink and I don’t drink at all. About Vicky, I said you’d been trying to persuade me for a long time and I agreed.”
“I see. And how did he find out that you were between Lyon and Paris?”
“I don’t know.”
“Dammit,” Bikie grunted.
“Maybe he figured it out from my mobile. You switched it on at about nine, when we were expecting a call from my administrator.”
“We left our own phones at home, but we didn’t think about Pascal’s one. What a fuck up!”
“Okay, we’ll wriggle out of it somehow. What else did he ask?” Foreseeing another encounter with the commissioner, Isaac wanted to know all the details.
“Nothing else. I asked him if I was entitled to a lawyer under my contract. The commissioner gaped at me, of course. He was really surprised. He said there was no need for a lawyer. After all, I was the potential victim. At the end of conversation he gave me his card and wrote down his personal mobile number. Asked to call him after every time I see you. That’s it, now I remember! He asked me about the hospital and who we went there with. I said it was a friend of yours, but I didn’t remember his name.”
“Shit, looks like the hospital’s snitching on us! Bastards!” Bikie was not that worried about having been spotted, rather consumed with rage.
Before Isaac had time to digest the information, his phone rang. It was Pellegrini, asking him to come to the station.
“Stay cool,” Bikie reassured him. “We’ll think everything through right now.”
At about five o’clock Isaac walked into the station harboring a couple of moves up his sleeve. Pellegrini was waiting; he greeted Isaac and started talking about Pascal without much further ado.
“So Pascal is completely OK, isn’t he? You haven’t noticed any changes recently?”
“No, nothing particular. What do you mean?” Isaac knew that he had to ask questions too. That way he might also fish something out of the commissioner.
“Why did he suddenly go and pay for your sister?”
Isaac was not taken unawares.
“I was trying to persuade him for quite a long time. Talked to him about a hundred times, and finally succeeded.”
“What persistence!”
“She’s my sister! I was ready to download my creativity for her sake!”
“Yes, yes. I remember. Very laudable. But even so, how did you manage it?”
“Manage what?”
“Well, to persuade P
ascal. You didn’t threaten him by any chance?”
“My God! Of course not!”
“That’s strange. Going to download your energy was fine, but threatening a rich friend for a relatively small sum of money was not? Have you been drinking with him?”
“What are you getting at? I didn’t threaten anyone! Or get them drunk.”
“All right. But even so. Could you possibly remember the last words you spoke to him before he agreed?”
“I don’t remember. I implored him. I recalled lots of things we did together in our lives. Vows we made. And it seems to me, commissioner, that the questions you’re asking are too personal for a witness interview! Maybe I went down on my knees! Do you need to know that too? I can refuse to answer, after all. You know that I’m no idiot, far from it, and I might not have been at any interrogations before, but I’ve seen films and I more or less know my rights!”
Isaac got carried away in earnest and was about to start shouting.
“Calm down, Isaac. I’m doing my job. I’m not accusing you of anything,” the commissioner said very gently. “But that’s for the time being! And if I don’t understand something, I’ll keep asking as long as I like,” he added, suddenly raising his voice.
Pellegrini literally hovered over Isaac, who was not really expecting this abrupt aggressiveness after the soft beginning. Films are one thing, real life is another. This was the first time Isaac had been in a situation like this.
