The Doves of Ohanavank (30 page)

He leans over and kisses me on the lips. I linger a minute not to give him the impression that I am angry, I smile, then I leave the car.

Chapter Twenty-Six

L
aurian is in his beloved poplar forest. He has a bunch of stakes and a heavy hammer to push them into the hard ground. Agassi is helping him stake the crooked saplings, but he shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“Edik jan,” he says, puffing, “have you ever seen a poplar tree that was not straight? You’re tiring yourself for nothing. Even the ones that look crooked now will grow straight on their own.”

“Sure I have,” says Laurian. “Look at this for example,” he points to a tree that is almost at a forty-five degree angle from the ground. “How can this poor thing grow straight? Either it won’t grow at all, or it will grow crooked. What does it take to push in a stake and tie it?”

“
Vonts kuzes
.” As you want. He knows he won’t change Laurian’s mind.

A light drizzle, closer to a fine mist than rain, descends upon them without warning. Laurian looks up at the gathering clouds.

“It looks like you won’t have to water for a few days,” he tells Agassi. “So stop sparing yourself from work and help me finish this row before the rain starts.”

“Ha, Edik jan.
Vonts asés
.” As you say.

The drizzle changes to rain, and a burst of thunder erupts with such ferocity that the two men instinctively hold their ears. The downpour follows almost immediately. It is a torrent so strong that there is no point in running for shelter. In a few seconds they are drenched to the bone.

“I told you once that people here get their personality from the weather,” yells Agassi over the horrendous noise of the rain. “You won’t find a single predictable person in this entire region!” He laughs, amused by the shocked and shivering Laurian.

It is later that afternoon when Laurian finally sees the missed call from Lara. He has walked back to the house, showered, and is sitting at the dining room table with a cup of coffee when he notices it. It came more than two hours ago. He calls back.

“I really need to talk to you, but this is not a good time. When can I call back?”

“Did he arrive?”

“Yes, yesterday evening. We’re having lunch now. Can we talk in couple of hours?”

“Of course we can. But is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. I’ll call back.”

Although Lara sounds fine, Laurian decides to go to Yerevan. He packs an overnight bag, calls his hotel and takes off fifteen minutes later. He feels he should be in Yerevan while Lara’s visitor is in town.

He is about to enter the Yerevan city limits when Lara calls back.

“Can you talk now?”

“Where are you?” asks Laurian.

“He just dropped me at my place. I’m seeing him again in a few hours.”

“I’ll be at the entrance of your building in twenty minutes. We’ll talk face to face.”

“Edik jan, you drove down? There was no need.” Lara is surprised but also happy. This does call for a face-to-face conversation.

Laurian picks Lara up, drives to a deserted road, and parks the car.

“Tell me,” he says.

Lara explains the situation with Viktor’s villa and the three million euros. She goes through all the ‘complications,’ as well as Al Barmaka’s ‘uncomplicating’ scenarios. She explains how Al Barmaka thought she was being silly and childish when she told him she wanted nothing to do with Viktor’s money. She explains her fear of retaliation from Carla and her gang,
which he well understands. And she touches upon the moral conflict she was having. She even tells him about her fictitious painter and his dilemma.

Laurian listens, interrupting only a few times to clarify the details of the fake and real Viktors and Laras. After around half an hour, Lara ends her story. Laurian waits for a few minutes, thinking.

“Obviously,” he says, “you are not sure whether you should accept the money or not. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have called me.”

Lara is quiet. She just looks at him and waits.

“Let’s eliminate two variants of ‘not sure.’ First, ‘not sure’ could mean that you want the money, but you need me to tell you it is okay. Is that it?”

Lara shakes her head.

“Second, perhaps you don’t want the money, and you want me to convince you that you’re not being silly or childish, and making the right decision. Is that it?”

Lara shakes her head again.

“So you really don’t know what to do,” says Laurian, more to himself than Lara. Lara is still quiet.

“Lara, are you sure you do not want the money? You know how much money that is, right? Can you visualize three million euros? That’s almost four-and-a-half million dollars. Do you know how many problems you can solve with that? For you, for Avo, for everyone in your family?”

“I know how many problems I can solve with the money,” says Lara, but her expression is stern and uncompromising.

“Okay, I have one more question, and then I’ll give you an idea. I want you to explain to me why you don’t want the money for yourself.”

“
De lav
, Edik. Isn’t it obvious?” Lara sounds frustrated.

“Maybe it is, but I want to hear it from you.”

“Fine,” says Lara curtly. “I’ll tell you why, short and to the point. Let’s not analyze the obvious to death. First, it is not my money. That ‘legal’ heir argument is a sham, and we all know it. Even if by some twisted logic it is made legally mine, it is not, and can never be, rightfully mine. Second, I thought the point was to kill the past and move forward. How would I be killing the past if I take that money? Do you want me to finally become the woman that I tried not to be for eighteen months? Third, think of the complications when the Ayvazians find out that their villa is confiscated, and then all of a sudden the Galians are living like kings. Can I take a risk with the life of a single one of my siblings? And believe me, everyone’s life would be endangered.
Fourth, Ahmed says it would be a ‘small compensation’ for the suffering they put me through. In one way, that would be too small compared to what they did to me, but in another way, it is far too much. How many girls like me did they exploit and abuse to amass three million euros, do you think? Why do I deserve that money now, and the others don’t?”

Lara has surprised Laurian many times before with her depth and maturity, but she has always looked vulnerable and even weak in his eyes. He’s seen her as someone to be protected, coached and advised. He is not prepared for the inner strength and moral fiber that he sees flowing through her words and filling his own soul.

“Any other girl in your position would have taken the money without a second thought.”

“Perhaps. I can even give you some examples of girls who would take it in a second—Anastasia for one, Susannah in Dubai, Nadia, Farah, Sumaya, and tens of others that I met in that year-and-a-half. Do you know what they all have in common? They are all real prostitutes. They applied for the job, as some of them told me. Did I? Did I apply for the job, Edik jan? Why would you expect me to react the same way as those who did?”

For the first time, Laurian sees Lara’s youth as an asset.
Only an eighteen year old could be this idealistic
, he thinks. A thirty-something would have found it much easier to opt for the money. He leans over toward the passenger seat, grabs Lara and holds her tight. He does not care what it looks like. “I am so proud of you,” he finally whispers in her ear, and Lara relaxes, stops resisting his hug, and allows herself to wind down in his arms.

After a few minutes, he lets go.

“Now I know,” he says. “Not only do I know where you stand, but I know how you can burn the canvas and save the painting. I really do.”

Anna freezes when she sees her photograph on the table in the back room. She instinctively looks around, as if expecting to uncover a bad practical joke. For a split second she imagines Hovo has found her, walked into the store and put the picture there just to terrify her. But no one is there.
She then looks at the picture carefully, at her long hair and thick-rimmed glasses, and wonders if it is possible to tell it is her. Thank God she does not wear glasses any longer.

Lucy walks in and sees her holding the photo to the light.

“Oh yeah,” she says casually, “if someone looking like that walks in the store, let me know. Try to get her address and phone number, if I’m not here.”

“Who is she?” asks Anna, wondering if her voice is shaking, but relieved that Lucy has seen no resemblance.

“Her name is in the back of the picture.”

She flips the photo over so fast that she wonders again if Lucy noticed her nervousness. “Anna Arturi Hakobian,” she reads aloud. “But who is she, I mean, what do we want with her?”

“I have no idea. Yuri wants to know. I don’t ask Yuri why.” She shrugs and walks out of the room.

‘Yuri wants to know’ means Madame Carla wants to know, thinks Anna, and she’s been warned about both. This photo could have come only from Hovo. She has been warned about that risk too. But what good are the warnings? What’s she supposed to do now? And didn’t Laurian say that Hovo was working for LeFreak? Then how come Yuri is asking about Anna Arturi Hakobian?

Anna is in a cold sweat. She puts the photo back on the table. She goes to the mirror hanging on the back wall, and takes a long look at herself. Very short hair and no eyeglasses are the only changes since that photo was taken. That may be enough to fool Lucy, but not a more observant person. Hovo would certainly recognize her if he saw her in the street. Her parents would recognize her too. The man who raped her could recognize her, even though he was not that interested in studying her face.

She has to call Lara. Overseas visitor or not, this is an emergency.

There is no doubt in Yuri’s mind that LeFreak orchestrated the killings in Sevajayr last fall. He could not prove it, but he is convinced. His informants’ consistent reports of methodic attempts to take over the Ayvazian operations
are a good indication. Hov’s reports of the snide remarks of LeFreak’s men about Ayvazian, saying what an idiot he must have been to have gotten himself and his men killed, serve as an added indication for Yuri. They sound almost like they’re bragging.

Carla listens to Yuri with her feet up on her desk. She’s lost some weight in the past few weeks, and takes pride in her new looks. She has stopped wearing stockings since the temperatures have risen in Yerevan in early May. Her skirt slides up her thighs as usual as she shifts her feet from left on right to right on left. Every additional inch of exposed skin adds to her own arousal as much as to Yuri’s, but she enjoys building expectation a lot more than he does. Build the pressure and control it at the same time, like pulling an arrow in a bow. Tension like that has its uses.

“We cannot take any chances with this, Yuri,” she says, in a tone that would make one think she’s in a boardroom in a formal meeting. “LeFreak may be inexperienced when it comes to our business, but he is not a clumsy man. Don’t forget that he has built a formidable empire of his own.”

“I’m not saying he’s clumsy. I’m saying he killed Sergei and Viktor. How is that clumsy? I’m also saying his men are demoralized and frustrated. We have a chance to strike now, and we should take it.”

“Yuri, that’s why I asked you before if you’ve ever killed anyone, and you never answered me. You acted like a spoiled child who’s denied his candy, if you remember. Why do you think I was asking? Just to be nosey? If you think the time is right to strike, have you also thought of how and when and where?” Carla shifts her legs again, offering a glimpse of her bright red thong in the process. Yuri fights the urge to get out of his chair and have her right there on the desk. But the last thing he needs is another insult delivered in the form of a rejection. He gathers himself and keeps his eyes on hers.

“I have killed before,” he says so coldly that Carla takes notice. “And I can kill again, if there is a well thought-out plan that I have faith in, a plan that won’t blow up in our faces.” Then, keeping his defiant gaze on her, he adds, “Have you?”

Carla ignores the question. He should know better than to challenge her like that, because she has never taken the bait and never will.