Corridor One

by Rafael H. Derchansky

  ***

  Igor got his boarding tickets with no problems, but his flight had been delayed for more than two hours. He’d paid extra so that he could carry his suitcase onto the cabin of the plane. He decided to check the airport stores, looking for a pair of pants. He soon discovered that what they sold were mostly cans of overpriced caviar, tacky souvenirs and other bric-a-bracs. Finally the boarding of his flight was announced and he walked to his gate, joining the rest of the boarding crowd.

  His flight lasted four hours, and was mostly bumpy. He tried to get some sleep several times, but his attempts were in vain. It was raining in Geneva. After landing, he spent half an hour lining up for the Immigration and Customs booth. When Igor was asked about his current occupation, he flashed his laminated ‘Police Detective Veteran’ I.D. card. It produced a visible effect on the young officer. After that, the young Customs officer stamped Igor's passport without asking any additional questions, and wished him a pleasant stay in Switzerland. All three toothpaste tubes arrived safely in Geneva. He went to the Information window in search of a hotel. There was a vacancy in the Hilton Garden Hotel located a twenty-minute drive from the terminal. Igor took a taxi, quickly registered, asked for a wakeup call at 7 a.m., took a shower and fell into the bed.

  In the morning, after he turned on the TV in the room and found the weather and traffic channel, he recognized the mistake that he had made by asking for a seven rather than a six o'clock wake-up call. All of the roads downtown were already jammed and as a result of heavy rainfall, the subway system was flooded and partially shut down. Igor left his hotel, called for a taxi and dared the driver to get to the building of the Treasury library before nine. Igor was sure that the diplomatic mail services had already delivered the diamonds and that Aleksa's meeting with the Head of the Treasury Department, Dubois Larock, would be happening in the morning hours. If everything went as planned, Aleksa would deliver the envelope with Dina’s letter to Dubois and after the Treasury and Interpol signed the amnesty agreement, Igor would deliver the rest of the diamonds to Aleksa.

  The building of the Treasury Library was located across the street from the Swiss Treasury. Igor, who in his previous trips to Geneva had visited the Library on a number of occasions, hoped to get a good view of the entrance to the Treasury building from the Library reading hall, which was located on the second floor. If only he could get there on time, before Aleksa’s arrival.

  The traffic congestion continued. Igor’s taxi made frequent stops. Only when they reached midtown did they start moving. The taxi driver tried to do his best and used small and local roads to bypass traffic jams. After almost an hour and a half, at ten to nine, Igor reached his destination at last.

  The Library's doors were closed. The sign on the wall said that it was open to the public from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. The street was crowded with people, most of them government employees on their way to their offices. Igor, with his camouflage pants, seemed out of place in this global banking capitol. At first, he decided to stand with his back to the library wall, hoping to get a glance at Aleksa entering the Treasury. But it turned out to be a bad idea. Identifying her from a distance among dozens of moving people was a difficult task. Igor crossed the road and took shelter in a covered bus stop located around twenty meters away from the entrance. The new spot provided him with a better view of the people, passing by and entering the building. Either he had made a good choice or it was his lucky day, but soon after, Aleksa passed by. She briefly glanced at the strangely dressed man standing at the bus stop. Igor noticed her gaze and turned around, facing the street. Aleksa did not recognize him and continued walking.

  Aleksa entered the Treasury and took the elevator to the second floor, going to her office first. She wanted to make sure that she looked good before her meeting with Dubois Larock. She shared her office with two coworkers, who usually came into the office at nine-thirty. Aleksa hung up her coat and with the help of a small handheld mirror, made small adjustments to her hair and makeup. She hesitated for a moment, fighting a sudden spell of nervousness, then took out the sealed envelope from her purse and left the room.

  Dubois' office, with a panoramic view of the city, was on the tenth and highest floor of the building. When Aleksa entered the reception, his secretary was on the phone, but she paused her conversation, smiled and gestured Aleksa towards the open door of Dubois' office. Aleksa entered the office and found Dubois Larock sitting behind a dark red desk made out of solid cherry wood. As usual, he was dressed meticulously and looked impressive, except for the old-fashioned round glasses that he slipped to the edge of his nose. He seemed to be absorbed in reading some documents. Aleksa could not help but notice a big white envelope lying open and empty in the center of the desk. She immediately recognized it. It was only yesterday that she had placed the package with the diamonds into it before sending it off via the diplomatic mail services.

  “Hi Aleksa, good morning. Come in. Come in.” Dubois interrupted his reading and stood up to greet her. “Have a seat please. It is nice to see you. We have so much to talk about. How are you doing? How was your flight? Tired?” Dubois asked Aleksa questions one after another. He pulled up a chair and sat near her.

  “It is so kind of you to volunteer to facilitate between us and MirexGlobe. I understand you had no time to inform me. I understand. I'm so grateful for your help.”

  “Sorry. The directions I received from MirexGlobe required me to leave as soon as possible. They had plane tickets already waiting for me at the airport,” lied Aleksa.

  “I know, I know. Now it doesn’t matter anymore. You did exactly what I would have done myself.” Dubois smiled. “So, tell me all about your visit to Central City. Everything! Please don’t miss any detail. You have my attention for as long as you need. I asked to cancel all my meetings this morning.”

  Aleksa could sense that a big deal of tension was hiding beneath Dubois' uncharacteristic courteousness towards her.

  “I’m listening.”

  Aleksa had no choice. Now, she could not hand over the envelope to Dubois and leave his office, as she had planned. She began her story with Dina’s call, then the pick-up of the package at Café Subbota.

  Dubois continuously tapped his fingers on the desk while carefully listened to her story. “You have been through a great deal of adventure. Did you know what was in the package?”

  “No sir, I did not.”

  “Of course. Of course. You made a good judgement call and you provided a great service to us. Did somebody contact you after you came back to Geneva?”

  “No, Sir. Does anybody need to contact me? Should I anticipate a call?”

  “Oh, no, no. I’m just checking.”

  “Sir, also I've been asked to give you this envelope in person.” Aleksa placed the envelope that she was still holding in her hands on his desk.

  Dubois' face expressed a tense surprise.

  “Another envelope? It is my ‘Lucky Envelope’ day today. Who is it from?” He slowly and reluctantly moved the envelope towards himself.

  “I really couldn't say. It was in the same package that I picked up in Café Subbota. The instructions were to deliver it to you directly, personally.”

  “Interesting. Is it sealed? Did you open it?”

  “No Sir, of course I did not open it.”

  Dubois picked up the envelope, asked to be excused and for Aleksa to remain in the office, and walked out. Aleksa stood up and walked toward a huge window, admiring the city view. She did not know how long she stood there, how much time had passed before Dubois showed up, but now he was visibly upset.

  “Do you know what is written here?” He waved the papers that he held in his hands. “Do you know what they are asking us to do? Do you? Are you connected to them?”

  “Sir, what exactly are you accusing me of? What are you implying?” Aleksa walked directly toward Dubois, stopping only a few meters from him, looking at his red and angry face.

  “Pardon me. I’m not ac
cusing you of anything. Do you know what they are asking here? Do you have any idea what crisis we are facing now?”

  “No, Sir, I don't. And I wouldn't want to be a part of any crisis.”

  “But you are part of it. You are. They will deliver the rest of the diamonds that they have to you. It says it here, in the letter. And we have to sign some sort of amnesty papers before we even get to see the second package. They are blackmailing us.”

  “I have no idea what it is that you are saying. Am I involved in any illegal activities?”

  Dubois paused before answering.

  “Am I?” Aleksa repeated her question.

  “No you are not, of course not.” He paused again. Aleksa could see that the expression on his face changed considerably. Suddenly his politeness returned.

  “Please stay here for another moment. I think I have a solution. Don’t worry. There is absolutely no reason for you to worry. I’ll be back soon. Please wait for me.” He left the office again.

  Aleksa looked at her watch. After waiting for twenty minutes, she thought of leaving the office, but could not get past the receptionist. With a polite but firm smile, the secretary asked her to go back, saying that the boss had requested that Aleksa be there when he returned. After that, the secretary came into the office a few times, each time with pots of fresh tea and coffee. Dubois came back one hour later.

  “You can go now. Please make sure that if somebody contacts you, you follow their instructions and demands to the letter. We are all set now. My apologies if I was a little short-tempered. I hope you can understand. This is all a big fiasco with the amnesty. Please keep me informed if somebody contacts you.”

  Dubois moved towards the door of the office, signaling to Aleksa that their meeting was over. She felt so relieved. She was happy to end this meeting and go back to her office.

  The time was already a quarter past eleven. Igor looked around. Almost lunch time. He had had nothing to eat since yesterday in the evening, but he could not leave the Library and interrupt his surveillance. A few hesitant rays of sun finally broke through the clouds and through the large façade windows of the Treasury building. The day promised to improve, if only he had something to eat or drink. As if in answer to his prayers, a colorfully painted van that looked like a mobile hotdog stand parked beside the entrance to the library. Pictures of appetizing hotdogs with fries, gravy and Coca-Cola bottles were painted on the sides of the van and on its roof. A middle-aged woman dressed in a white apron exited the driver's door, walked around the parked vehicle and opened up the side window, which was made out of wood rather than glass, exposing a small kitchen inside the van. The window cover became a makeshift table where ketchup and mustard bottles, bowls with relish, pickled veggies and other condiments appeared.

  The hungry Igor observed the Treasury and the operations of the hotdog van from the second floor Library window, wondering about his odds of getting some food and a cup of coffee. Soon enough a customer approached the window of the van and Igor could see the hands and a white apron moving in the kitchen between a pile of buns and sausages. He made up his mind. He decided to quickly run down and grab a hotdog before the lunchtime crowd beat him to the stand. If Aleksa showed up, he would give up on his food hunting and just follow her. To make sure that he did not lose his surveillance spot near the window, he put books on his chair and also mentioned on his way out to the librarian that he would be coming back momentarily.

  A quick run down the stairs and he was out of the building. The smell of the hotdogs and the close proximity to food made his mouth water and he could hear his stomach rumbling and growling. Igor stopped and made sure that he had a good view of the area across the street. He asked for one Polish sausage, the worst enemy of his cholesterol, and a cup of coffee. While his order was being prepared, he took a few steps back, continuing his watch.

  When his hotdog was ready, Igor dressed it with his favorite condiments and took a big bite. The mustard and ketchup filled all the empty spaces in between the meat and the warm, soft bun and Igor closed his eyes momentarily in bliss. He then walked past the back of the van, towards the corner of the building. There, leaning against the metal fence, he could finally enjoy his meal. He was almost at the end of his hot dog when he spotted Aleksa exiting the Treasury building. Igor looked at his watch. Maybe she took an early lunch break, he thought. Aleksa’s timing was good. He still had a few moments to finish his meal while letting Aleksa build up some distance between them. Igor was ready to take the last few bites and pursue her when a perplexing incident caught his attention. The van's two back doors opened wide, and two men, one dressed in a business suit and the other wearing jogging pants and a green shirt, jumped out in a hurry. The business suit crossed the street, zigzagging between the moving cars. It was obvious that he wanted to be on the other side of the street as soon as possible. The man in the jogging pants held a hand-radio up to his ear and began walking quickly towards the corner of the building, where Igor was about to finish his meal.

  “We’ve got her,” Igor overheard when the man walked past him. Now both men were walking in the same direction, each on the opposite side of the street. Igor felt a rush of adrenaline that he had not experienced for a long time now. The woman in the white apron swiftly closed the back doors of the van and then she appeared in the window, removing all of the condiments at once with a few swings of her arms and quickly closing the window after that.

  They are going in the same direction as Aleksa. This is going to be fun. Igor threw what was left of his hotdog bun into a garbage bin and started walking. But then he thought of something that stopped him. He turned his head and looked at the vehicle plate: BSFN649. “BSFN649, BSFN649,” he repeated under his breath and walked faster, keeping his eyes on Aleksa and the two men that were not far ahead of him. He always trusted his detective’s instincts. Now his instincts were prompting an uncomfortable sensation. He realized that his fast and unguarded response to the men jumping out of the hotdog van to follow Aleksa was wrong. He had not taken into account that the men and the woman were on the same team, and this was a serious miscalculation.

  Who knows how many more were waiting there in the back of the van or how many additional men are involved in the chase. Are you becoming an old and haphazard, detective? If they are indeed following Aleksa, I could be in big trouble. If the hotdog woman follows me now, it will be difficult for me to hide from her view. She could see me and my camouflage pants from the moon. Gregory was right. I’m an idiot. Should've bought a pair of jeans on my arrival.

  Igor placed his hand into the pocket of his coat and reassuringly touched the three toothpaste tubes. To check whether his fears were justified, he casually turned his head and looked back. He was right. The hotdog van was slowly making his way in the traffic, rolling behind him, audaciously obstructing and slowing down other cars.

  Think logically, Igor, make use of the grey matter in your brain. Who are they and what are they after? Are they after the diamonds? Are they indeed tracking Aleksa? They have nothing on her now. What happens if they stop me? The diamonds are gone, as well as Dina’s father's amnesty. What if they stop Aleksa after I hand off the diamonds to her? The result will be the same. I cannot be caught while I’m carrying the diamonds, and I cannot pass them to Aleksa either. But I'm not even sure that they – and who the hell are they? – are after the diamonds. Still, I cannot be too careful, and I need to test my theory.

  Aleksa was about to cross the street at the next intersection. The two men stopped not far from her. She crossed and turned right; they followed. Igor decided that it was time for him to disappear and turned left. He knew that the van would need to wait until the traffic light changed. If it followed him, proving his suspicions accurate, he would need to find a way to shake them off, but more important now was taking care of the diamonds. He could not afford the risk of being caught with the diamonds in his pocket. Igor walked quickly. He wanted to gain as much distance as he could between the tra
ffic lights and himself.

  While walking, he also assessed the area, searching for a place to hide until the situation calmed down. He was looking for inconspicuous spaces between buildings, underground crossings, small shops with unobstructed shop windows. It seemed that he was out of luck. Nothing on the street could hide him from view. All he could see were multi-story office buildings. Igor knew that he needed to find a hideout fast, otherwise, he would be inviting trouble. He decided to test his luck inside one of the buildings. The sign on the first building indicated it was some kind of tourist agency. The second building was occupied by import-export offices. He continued his sprint-walk without looking back. The third building was under construction. Igor started to lose hope until he saw a large neon sign on the next building. The sign announced that this building was occupied by the Swiss Army Veterans Coalition.

  What an excellent match for my camouflage pants. Without any hesitation, Igor pushed the door and entered the building. He confidently retrieved and showed his Police Veteran card to a sleepy security guard, who indifferently looked at the card, looked at Igor and back at his photo and waved Igor in without any questions. Igor stepped into a long corridor stretching on both sides of the entrance, noticed the elevator and the beautiful ironwork and marble of the stairs, paused for a second and decided to use the stairs.

  The second floor was a collection of large and small conference rooms and classes. Igor quickly found an empty room. Now, inside the room, Igor looked around, searching for a place to hide the tubes. It did not take long before he lifted his head and realized that the ceilings in the rooms were covered with decorative detachable panels. Standing on a chair, he easily lifted and removed one of the panels in the corner of the room and inspected the interior. He decided that it would be safe enough to leave the diamonds under one of the panels, if needed. After finding a solution to his biggest problem, Igor allowed himself to relax. He walked slowly to the wall that separated two large windows overlooking the street below.

  His timing was perfect. The hotdog van had arrived and was parked on the opposite side of the street. Igor could see two people in the van – the already familiar woman, who had now removed her white apron, and a dark-bearded man. Exactly at that moment, the man climbed out of the car and crossed the street, walking towards the entrance of the Swiss Army Veterans Coalition building. Igor quickly stepped back and looked up at the ceiling, choosing the most suitable spot for the hideout of the tubes. Still undecided, he looked through the window again and saw that the dark-bearded man was quickly walking back to the van. The woman abruptly started the engine, and the van, accompanied by a choir of horns from the moving traffic, sharply cut into the middle of the street and disappeared.

  Luck has been on my side so far. Igor watched the traffic for a few more moments. The van was nowhere to be seen. He left the room and went down to the lobby.

  “You can thank me later, Detective,” said the security guard to a surprised Igor.

  “Thank you. I have no idea why am I thanking you, but I assume that you are going to tell me,” Igor replied, smiling, as he was about to pass by the security desk in a rush.

  “If a man like you is being followed by somebody and is looking for a place to hide, and I send his pursuer on a goose chase, I think I deserve a thank you for my trouble.” The security guard winked comradely to Igor.

  “You have a hidden detective in you, and a good heart, and you deserve a thank you more than you know,” was Igor’s heartfelt reply.

  “Not a problem. You look like a good man. Also, I don’t like people who talk rudely to security guards.”

  Igor warmly shook hands with the guard and left the building. He walked back towards the intersection that he had just come from. For a moment he stood there, observing the Treasury's Library building, deciding what to do next. Then Igor stopped a passing taxi and told the driver to take him to his hotel. When the taxi left the downtown core, Igor asked the driver whether he could stop on their way to the hotel so that Igor could buy a pair of jeans. The driver thought for a moment and then nodded in reply. Five minutes later, the car stopped in front of a small store with a dressing window exhibiting dozens of jeans. Igor felt relieved leaving his camouflage pants behind after asking the surprised salesman whether it was appropriate to ditch them in the store.

  The lobby of the Hilton Garden Hotel was packed with new customers. It took time before Igor had a chance to talk to the busy concierge and ask him where he could find a public phone. He definitely wanted to avoid making the call to his Interpol friend from his hotel. The phone booth was a ten-minute walk down the street.

  “Pierre speaking,” answered Igor’s old friend.

  “Hi, Pierre, this is Igor. How are you doing? Are you ready for the next round at the Irish Bar?”

  “Oh, gosh. Are you back in Geneva?”

  “I’m only here for a short overnight stop, but I need your help again. The oysters are on me. You loved them last time.”

  “You are going to get me in big trouble. What is it that you need this time?”

  “I need information on license plate number BSFN649, can you get it?” Knowing his friend’s laidback and sluggish nature, Igor decided to strike while the iron was hot. “I need it really soon. Actually, can you look it up now, while we are on the phone?”

  “What a dreamer you are. Always have been and nothing has changed. Call me in half an hour. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Igor had half an hour to spend. He needed to update Dina but could not place an international call from the pay phone. He headed back to his hotel room, phoned Tamara, found out the name of the hotel in which Dina was staying in Vienna and headed back to the phone booth.

  “Hi, Pierre, do you have any news for me?”

  “Yes, I do. Igor, where did you get this number?”

  Igor understood that he was onto something. Normally, Pierre preferred to distance himself from Igor's affairs. He usually preferred to remain oblivious as to the reasons for Igor’s requests. He would never ask Igor this kind of question unless he was in a tough situation. Igor had no choice but to come up with some explanation.

  “I had a chance to observe some amateur surveillance team that doesn't seem to know basic radio communication rules.” Igor did not want to go into the specifics of how he was able to overhear Aleksa’s pursuer. He did not want to tell Pierre about the phrase ‘We got her’ that was so carelessly dropped by the young man and which had thankfully alerted Igor to the shadowing. Actually, my behavior was not that much smarter, thought Igor, disconcerted with himself.

  “I don’t know whether I can entirely agree with your definition of an amateur team, but it was an Interpol team in training, so I would rather call them a junior team. They used the hotdog van, to which this license plate belongs, for their assignment, but they are on a different mission now.”

  “Can you tell me anything about their new assignment?”

  “I can’t say, sorry.” The line was silent for a moment and then Pierre added, “It probably is an interception mission or something else that came up last minute. Anyhow, they are not saving the world from extraterrestrials or an atomic threat from the Communists.”

  “Thank you, Pierre. This information is good enough for me.”

  “So, at what time is our rendezvous?”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow evening, around six.” Igor smiled into the receiver. They both knew that by that time Igor would be well on his way home.

  “I didn't expect anything else, Igor. Don’t explain why, I’ll see you next time you are in Geneva.”

  “I owe you big time, Buddy. Send my regards to the family.” Igor hung up. He knew that his conversation with Pierre would be sealed and soon forgotten. The long-lived, strong bond between these two old detectives was so unshakeable that Igor never had any reason to fear betrayal. After learning about the involvement of Interpol, it became clear that Igor might be risking confiscation of the diamonds if he brought them t
o his meeting with Aleksa. He suspected that the interception mission of the junior Interpol team had targeted the diamonds that he was supposed to deliver to her. He needed to call Dina, tell her what had happened and suggest that they work on a new plan.

  It was not difficult to find the phone number of Dina’s hotel in Vienna, with the help of the hotel’s front desk. Tamara had probably told her by now about Igor's call. He was unsure of whether it was safe to make the call from his room. If Interpol identified him, they could easily put a trace on his room phone. He needed to change rooms. Igor entered the washroom, lifted the lid of the toilet water tank and broke the plastic arm that was holding the water floater in half, making sure that the toilet was non-functional. Next, he called the housekeeping office with a complaint of a broken toilet and put in a request to the front desk to change his room as soon as possible. Twenty minutes later, and with profuse apologies from the staff, he was given a new room in the hotel's second building. Unsure of whether Interpol had ears in this hotel, and before his move could be discovered, Igor quickly switched to his new room and dialed Dina’s number.

  “Hi, what is going on? Tamara told me that you were probably going to call.”

  Igor kept his report as brisk as possible, giving only the important details to Dina.

  “I don't think that they received your letter with open arms. It seems that Interpol is on Aleksa’s tail, watching her moves. To make the transfer in the way you planned is not realistic now. The risk of losing everything is too high. I think that you need to find another way to do it.”

  “Okay, I understand. Not a problem. Actually I think I may know what I need to do. I'll contact you soon. Are you at the same location you gave to Tamara?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, goodbye. Stay safe.”

  After getting off the phone with Igor, Dina left her room and knocked on the door of the room next to hers.

  “Come in,” said Gregory.

  “I need to leave for Geneva. Igor has had some complications.”

  “Is anything wrong with Aleksa?” Gregory asked nervously.

  “Don’t worry, Aleksa is alright. I’m not involving her in our affairs anymore. It is better for her if you don't call her until my return. You should be heading home. I may need your help there.”

  “When are you leaving for Geneva?”

  “As soon as I finish packing my suitcase. I’ll be taking the train. As far as I remember, they depart for Geneva every hour. I will try to take an express train. I’ll be in contact with you through Tamara. Everything will be fine. I know what I should do, trust me.” Dina sounded confident and wound up. “If you meet my dad, tell him that he is going to be free soon, no matter what.”

  “I will.”

  “One last thing. Could you please call Tamara and ask her to cancel my flight home? I can't waste any time now.”

  “Will do.”

  Dina left for her room where she quickly packed her bag while Gregory dialed Tamara’s home number.

  When Dina arrived at the train station, she checked the Vienna-Geneva schedules. She had been wrong. There were only four daily trains to Geneva. The time was five-thirty and the next train was leaving at seven. The one after that was the overnight train, arriving in Geneva at 7 a.m. Dina decided to take the overnight train. This way she would not need to get a hotel room for the night. She purchased the ticket for a sleeping coupe and spent the remaining hours before her departure at the station's coffee shop, thinking about and playing out different scenarios, sorting out her options before her meeting with the Treasury tomorrow.

  It took Gregory a good hour before he could get Tamara on the phone. Finally, she answered his call from the office.

  “This morning’s traffic is awful. You wouldn't believe me if I told you how long it took me to get to the office,” was Tamara’s reply to Gregory's greeting. “I can't wait for your return, guys. Come back already, I miss you all,” she continued.

  “Dina won't be coming with me. It’s only me. She is going to Geneva.” Gregory interrupted Tamara’s continuous flow of words.

  “What for? Is everything okay with Igor?”

  “Everything is okay. Please cancel her tickets. I’ll be coming back as planned.”

  “Oh my God, how disappointing. I already started planning a big welcome party.”

  “Tamara, please listen to me. Do not plan any welcome parties before Dina tells us that she managed to accomplish what she has planned, and that everything is good.”

  “Good. I can do that. Come back already, Laboratory Rat. I miss you.”

  Gregory rolled his eyes and hung up.

  After she finished talking with Gregory, Tamara sat down and lowered her head, sinking deeper into her chair. She wished she could help Dina somehow. She felt a sudden surge of overwhelming emotion and tears started rolling slowly down her cheeks. She missed her friends deeply.

  Gregory decided to visit Dina’s father immediately after his arrival and let him know about the events of the last days.

  Igor spent the night in his new room, waking up several times, laying in bed, eyes open, analyzing and going over yesterday's events again and again, then falling asleep worn out. When the radio alarm woke him up at six o’clock, and after much reflection throughout the night, he concluded that the Treasury was behind the actions of Interpol.

  At a quarter past seven, his phone rang.

  “I’m here,” Dina informed him.

  “Is there anything I should do?” replied Igor.

  “No, not for now. I'll be in touch. Did you brush your teeth already?” asked Dina. Igor understood immediately that Dina was interested in the toothpaste tubes and not in the state of hygiene of his teeth.

  “Yes I did, they are clean, safe and shiny. Thank you for asking.”

  “Great, please keep them that way.”

  The line went silent. Even though Igor had had a restless night, he felt surprisingly energized after Dina’s call.