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The English Assassin :: Silva Daniel
Страница: 142 из 209Just make certain your friend Keller doesn’t make the recital a truly unforgettable experience.”
“Now, that’s the Ari Shamron I know and love. Use one of the world’s finest musicians as a diversion.”
“We play the cards we’re dealt.”
“I’m going to be with her in Venice. I want someone I can trust to handle the Zurich end of things.”
“Who?”
“Eli Lavon.”
“My God, a reunion of the Class of ’72! If I were a few years younger, I’d join you.”
“Let’s not get carried away. Oded and Mordecai did well in Paris. I want them too.”
“I see something of myself in Oded.” Shamron held up his stubby bricklayer’s hands. “He has a very powerful grip. If he gets hold of this man, he won’t get away.”
34
ZURICH
EVA HAD INSISTED on the expensive flat overlooking the Zürichsee, despite the fact that it was beyond the reach of Gerhardt Peterson’s government salary. For the first ten years of their marriage, they’d made up the shortfall by dipping into her inheritance. Now that money was gone, and it had fallen upon Gerhardt to keep her in the style to which she felt entitled.
The flat was dark when he finally arrived home. As Peterson stepped through the doorway, Eva’s amiable Rottweiler charged him in the pitch dark and drove his rocklike head into Peterson’s kneecap.
“Down, Schultzie! That’s enough, boy. Down! Damn you, Schultzie!”
He fumbled along the wall and switched on the light. The dog was licking his suede shoe.
“All right, Schultzie. Go away, please. That’s quite enough.”
The dog trotted off, claws clicking on the marble.
Peterson limped into the bedroom, rubbing his knee. Eva was sitting up in bed with a hardcover novel open on her lap. An American police drama played silently on the television. She wore a chiffon-colored dressing gown. Her hair was freshly coiffed, and there was a gold bracelet on her left wrist that Peterson didn’t recognize. The money Eva spent on the surface of the Bahnhofstrasse rivaled the funds buried beneath it.
“What’s wrong with your knee?”
“Your dog attacked me.”
“He didn’t attack you. He adores you.”
“He’s too affectionate.”
“He’s a man, like you. He wants your approval. If you’d just give him a little attention now and again, he wouldn’t be so exuberant when you come home.”
“Is that what his therapist told you?”
“It’s common sense, darling.”
“I never wanted the damned dog. He’s too big for this flat.
“Now, that’s the Ari Shamron I know and love. Use one of the world’s finest musicians as a diversion.”
“We play the cards we’re dealt.”
“I’m going to be with her in Venice. I want someone I can trust to handle the Zurich end of things.”
“Who?”
“Eli Lavon.”
“My God, a reunion of the Class of ’72! If I were a few years younger, I’d join you.”
“Let’s not get carried away. Oded and Mordecai did well in Paris. I want them too.”
“I see something of myself in Oded.” Shamron held up his stubby bricklayer’s hands. “He has a very powerful grip. If he gets hold of this man, he won’t get away.”
34
ZURICH
EVA HAD INSISTED on the expensive flat overlooking the Zürichsee, despite the fact that it was beyond the reach of Gerhardt Peterson’s government salary. For the first ten years of their marriage, they’d made up the shortfall by dipping into her inheritance. Now that money was gone, and it had fallen upon Gerhardt to keep her in the style to which she felt entitled.
The flat was dark when he finally arrived home. As Peterson stepped through the doorway, Eva’s amiable Rottweiler charged him in the pitch dark and drove his rocklike head into Peterson’s kneecap.
“Down, Schultzie! That’s enough, boy. Down! Damn you, Schultzie!”
He fumbled along the wall and switched on the light. The dog was licking his suede shoe.
“All right, Schultzie. Go away, please. That’s quite enough.”
The dog trotted off, claws clicking on the marble.
Peterson limped into the bedroom, rubbing his knee. Eva was sitting up in bed with a hardcover novel open on her lap. An American police drama played silently on the television. She wore a chiffon-colored dressing gown. Her hair was freshly coiffed, and there was a gold bracelet on her left wrist that Peterson didn’t recognize. The money Eva spent on the surface of the Bahnhofstrasse rivaled the funds buried beneath it.
“What’s wrong with your knee?”
“Your dog attacked me.”
“He didn’t attack you. He adores you.”
“He’s too affectionate.”
“He’s a man, like you. He wants your approval. If you’d just give him a little attention now and again, he wouldn’t be so exuberant when you come home.”
“Is that what his therapist told you?”
“It’s common sense, darling.”
“I never wanted the damned dog. He’s too big for this flat.