Into the Lion's Den (22 page)

So coming back to birthdays, mine was yesterday. We all went to the pub around the corner and started
to drink from 7:00 till 9:00 when the bar was closed but we stayed till ten. Clarissa and Mary are roommates and
they live like 7 blocks from the studio and we walked them home. The girls were not drunk but very expressive and
yelling excitedly at the most stupid things. Getting the key in the keyhole was challenging but we managed to do it.

I told Peter that I would walk with him to the tube as I was certain that Yuri would be also “walking me”

from somewhere in the dark. The former KGB boys took very seriously this “protection” thing. He's your shadow but
you never catch him unless he wants. I still don't know how he does it. But he's a great guy and bribes me with nuts
and muffins from Victoria Station.

We got to Holborn Station and Peter asked me if I wanted to go to his flat. I refused thinking that he
wanted to drink some more and I was starting to feel dizzy and wanted to be in my bed and check if I had an e-mail
from Constantin.

“Come on, it will be fun for both of us. You're always alone.”

“I have school tomorrow and then, pass by the shop. There's a large new load of old priceless
Worcestershire Porcelain pugs waiting to be unpacked and cleaned before Sunday. I can't drink anything more.”

“Spend the night with me,” he said and I gaped at him like a big dodo. I think he drank too much.

“No, thanks. I can't. I have someone at home. Sorry.”

“Are you in a relationship? I didn't know that. Pity.”

“Yes, sorry. See you tomorrow after.”

“I'm not jealous. You can spend the night with me.” He insisted and took my hand and kissed it the
middle of a dark street.

“Look Peter. I'm not interested at all. Good night.”

“Don't you like me?” I have to admit he's very good looking. All the girls and some boys drool over him:
tall, green eyes, black hair, witty and self-confident.

“I'm with another person and I don't want to cheat on him. He's a great fellow and I don't want you. End
of story.”

“All right, you miss it. Would have been a great way to end the day, Guntram. I'll be back. You're quite
sexy to drop only after one try,” he told me and just like that, without any kind of warning, kissed me, this time on the
lips. I pushed him away and the dork just laughed and went to the underground. I was kind of shocked, incredulous
with his “love declaration” —better “fuck declaration” —and I turned around to find a really pissed off, no furious
Mikhail Massaiev standing there.

“What were you doing?”

“Nothing! He kissed me. I wasn't expecting it.”

“This is serious boy! Very serious!” He barked and grabbed my arm with iron fingers. I have a mark
there. He half dragged me for thirty metres till a black Mercedes stopped on the street; he opened the back door and
pushed me inside, sitting next to me. The driver was Yuri Rimsky and he was also looking furious.

“If boss sees it, you're dead! We all are!”

“What? He jumped on me!” I protested but Mikhail slapped me lightly on the face and I was now
furious with him. “Get your hands away, idiot! I'll tell Repin about your behaviour!”

“You'd better be quiet, little idiot!” He shouted enraged and he hit me for a second time, much stronger
than before. I tried to punch him but he easily trapped my right wrist and squeezed it very hard. I wailed in pain and
fought to disentangle myself from his grip. Impossible.

“Listen to me well, little idiot. You should never let anyone but Mr. Repin to touch you! Your life depends
on it! If you have been flirting with this boy, I'll personally oversee your punishment and you won't like it. If Mr. Repin
finds out that you have a parallel relationship, you both are dead and it's going to be a very slow and painful death!”

“Mr. Massaiev, remember you're not supposed to touch Guntram. Mr. Repin will be most upset if you
do.” Yuri saved my ass because Mikhail was looking like a madman and I was becoming very afraid of him.

“Why does he think that he can have sex with you?” Mikhail shook me once more.

“I don't know, he never said anything in that sense ever.”

“You are grounded for the next month. Only to school or work. I'm going to change the days you go to
this atelier. Fix your working schedule or better quit,” Mikhail barked at me.

“You can't do that!”

“Guntram, it's for the best. Let Mr. Massaiev fix this and do exactly as he tells you. It's the only way to
prove your innocence.” Yuri said and I realised that he was truly concerned about me.

“Why? It was nothing!”

“Guntram, don't be difficult. I know it's inconvenient for you to change your schedule, but it's for the
best. Mr. Repin will be very displeased if he knows that you're in the same classroom with a man that just assaulted
you,” Yuri interfered.

“It was a stupid kiss!”

“A kiss today, tomorrow, who knows? The best is if we separate you from him. It's very uncomfortable to
work side by side with a person who's sexually interested in you. It will be bad for your concentration and this people
later start with rumours. Your art is what you care most and it can't be ruined by a horny wannabe artist,” Yuri
finished.

“I think you're right, Yuri. I didn't think on that.”

“Guntram, you have to let us do our work and trust us more. We know better. I'm sorry if I shouted at
you. Are you all right?” Mikhail asked me, looking truly contrite and concerned. “Is your wrist fine?” He asked me
when he saw that I was still rubbing it to alleviate the pain.

“You have a strong hand Mikhail Petrovich but I'm all right. I swear I did nothing to get his attentions.”

“That's good to hear, child.”

“I have class tomorrow after, should I go?”

“No, let me speak with your teacher. We will change the days and you can inform your employer. She's a
kind lady and knows that you're a student.”

“Yes, but I'll forewarn Mrs. Smithers tomorrow after school. I have to be there at 4:00.”

“Do that Guntram. Are you feeling all right really? You look very pale and you're gasping for air.”

“I have a headache. Too many beers and one whiskey,” I confessed starting to feel sick.

“Lay down against me. You look like you're already starting the hangover. I'll give you something for it
when we're home.” He smirked, shaking his head like the grown-ups do when they see a child doing something truly
stupid. I didn't want to lay my head against his chest, still sore from the slaps, but he has always been very kind to me
and anyone can have a bad day. I obeyed him and he stroke my hair murmuring something like “you're a good boy;
you don't want to cause troubles to us.”

When we arrived home, I went to my room directly to change into my pyjamas and go to sleep. I had a
huge headache and the room was moving like a wild boat. Over my desk was a nice bouquet of blue and white flowers
with a box of tea and butter cookies from Fortnum and Mason—OK, posh boy is not so undeserved—and a card
written by Constantin “Happy birthday my angel” Inside the flowers was a small box with a Watermann fountain and
dip pen. I was so moved by it that I didn't noticed that Mikhail was there holding a glass in his hand.

“Guntram, you need to drink this and go to bed.”

“What's in there?”

“Vitamins and water. You'll need it against the hangover.”

“Constantin sent me this. It's amazing. I was expecting an e-mail but not this. Do you think it's a good
moment to call him?”

“No, leave him alone for the time being. He has some troubles with Lintorff and is under a lot of
pressure.”

I felt like trash, Constantin has troubles with that hideous man and I added one more by letting myself be
kissed by a guy who only wants a good fuck. I'm a jackass, unworthy of him.

“I didn't know it. He told me nothing.”

“He doesn't want to worry you. Now drink it and go to bed. Tomorrow you can write to him.”

“Lintorff is very bad, isn't he?”

“He's an ugly and treacherous adversary. He has no problems to resort to violence when it suits his
needs. He leads the Order with an iron fist. There's the rumour that once two members rose against him during one of
their meetings. He accused them of treason because they had leaked some internal documents and ordered to behead
them in front of all people.”

“Behead as cut in off their heads?”

“Exactly, with a sword they keep. All top members have one and the Hochmeister is always buried with
his. Lintorff has one that is a copy from the Executioners Sword's from the Spanish Inquisition. Long and strong blade
with a Jesus Christ in the cross in the handle. Had been used several times, especially in 1989. The murderer, —they
prefer to be called Executioner— refused for some reason and dared Lintorff to do it by himself. He did, in front of the
whole Order and killed that man too.”

“But this is horrible! It can't be true! People don't do such things!”

“He's no ordinary people, Guntram. They're fanatics for the Church and give a lot of money to it. They
lurk in the shadows and do whatever is in their hands to get more power. Mr. Repin is arguing with them over some
privatizations in Central Europe. Lintorff respects the boss, but he can change his mind at any time.”

“Can't Constantin go to the police?”

“What for? They control everything in Europe. It has been their territory since the XVII century. They
manage up to the last cent a junkie spends in his fix. The people who benefit from these illegal businesses needs them
to clean their money and have protection from the police and Justice. You have to fight with them in their own terms.

Usually, Lintorff prefers to settle problems peacefully but if he's in a killing spree, there's no place on this earth where
you can hide.”

“What can I do for Constantin?”

“Let him work. It's not the first time they have a disagreement. They will show their teeth at each other
and then, will negotiate and reach a joint solution. Be nice to him.”

“I will. I'm so sorry for today's mess.”

“I know, Guntram, but you have to do exactly as I tell you from now onwards. Let me fix it, child.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good boy, now change your clothes and go to bed. Tomorrow you have school and no hangover will
prevent you to be there first thing in the morning.”

“I'm also dead on my feet.” Mikhail Petrovich sighed and went for the bottle in the cabinet and two glasses. “This was the last time I give him permission to go out with crazy artists. Only respectable Museum parties, theatres or movies. Shit! What was he thinking?”

“Nothing related probably. Guntram is very inattentive. I would bet that the boy made several approaches and he never realised. There's nothing in his diaries about him and he writes everything down. But our desks are covered with trash Mikhail Petrovich. What are we going to do?”

“You managed very well.”

“Thank you, the French school is also not bad.”

“Years of practice in Algeria; 1961 to 62. Those Arabs were really tough to break.”

“I'm glad I was always in Europe or America.”

“Tomorrow I'll change the boy's schedule and speak with Repin.”

“Do it after he has some fun with Guntram. He's easier to talk to then.”

“It's good advice but what if the boy talks? He can't be quiet for more than two hours if he screws something up.” Massaiev downed his vodka.

“Then we have to enrich the story. That man, Peter jumped on him and Guntram wanted to be changed from classroom. He wanted to drop the painting lessons, but you managed to convince him to stay because he needs them but he's afraid to go because he does not want to meet the man. We should do something about it.” He said, rising an eyebrow.

“I see your point but…”

“Guntram is now in one of his guilt strikes, thinking that he has done something horrible. The boy considers that buying a muffin without authorization is the biggest crime he can do.”

“You're right Yuri Alexandrevich. I'll speak with the boy again. We won the lotto with this one and I don't want to change him any time soon.”

“Guntram is for keeps. He was terrified of you after two slaps only. Normally when the boys misbehaved you had to do much more. He has an easy and sweet temper. We should do our best to keep the competition away because although Guntram will not look for any extra-curricular activities, he's a really good dish to ignore. He's satisfied and happy with what he has and too honest to cheat on the boss.”

After piling up the last box for the day, Guntram felt drained and still had to read some texts for tomorrow's lessons. Sighing tiredly he considered that it had been a good idea to reduce his painting lessons to twice per week as he couldn't be everywhere and Mrs. Smithers had been mildly upset when he had asked her to change his working schedule. “Sundays are out of question, darling.” In order to reduce the working hours, he will have to come one day more, Monday, Wednesday, Thursdays, Fridays, and the entire Sunday to cope with the tourists and serve them wine while she was making a sale.