30 January 2020

Trigger: Themes on Winter (First sentence was provided)

Do me a favor

The ice cracked beneath his foot, penetrating the silence and echoing off the underside of the bridge. Roganov was late and Jeffrey’s fingers were freezing despite the thermal gloves. Why had he agreed to meet the Bulgarian in the first place, let alone at 3 in the morning in the dead of winter, in this small corner of Sofia. It had all happened so quickly and seemingly, by happenstance. He now knew, nothing Roganov did was happenstance..

Jeffrey had been making the museum rounds of Amsterdam. He just exited the Van Gogh museum when a man had thrown up on his shoes. Jeffry was just walking and this guy fell down in front of him and vomited. The guy just lay there, passed out. His friends laughed and gathered him up. I think they were about as drunk as he was. But it was Roganov, who took charge. He apologized profusely, while getting his friends to pick the guy up off the ground and carry him over to a bench.

“I’m so sorry for my friend. We do not often get to enjoy a place like Amsterdam. Life in Bulgaria continues to be,,,,,complicated.” Then he insisted I go with him to a hotel just down the street where he paid the attendant to take my shoes, clean and polish them. He took me into the bar while we waited.

Roganov was lean but obviously quite muscular. Their was a sharpness to his face slightly exaggerated by the scar that bled down from the corner of his left eye. It gave him a constant quixotic raise of his eye brow. Inside the sockets were eyes of the deepest brown; nothing seemed to come back out from inside there.

My Perrier arrived as he bustled back from the bar and sat next to me, folding his long fingers around a shot of vodka. It was dashed down followed by the suck on a lemon wedge. “Ah, a good way to get the day started. You sure you do not want something.”

“No, I’m fine really. I just need to be going. I have a plane to catch.”

“Dont worry, the shoes will be back in 5 minutes. So where you going.”

“Oh, just a little art touring, Some places in Eastern Europe. The usual, Vienna, Prague, Budapest.”

“You should go to Bulgaria. It is beautiful there in Winter. We have snow and people ice skate along the rivers and paths in the cities. And there are outdoor cafes.”

“Well, that sounds nice but my itinerary is already set…perhaps some other time.”

Roganov just stared blankly back at me. “No, I think you will be coming soon.” There was no doubt in his eyes. Then the relaxed smile. “But let us enjoy our time here tonight. You must be my guest. I will get your shoes and we will go.”

And that is how I ended up in the Elephant Club at 3 in the morning with a bunch of drunken Bulgarians yelling insults to a group of even more drunken Russians. The Dom P was flowing faster than the cash. The local “attendants” of the Club were tending very closely to those men who seemed to be flashing the most gold around their necks and in their smiles.

Then there was a scream. I dont really know which side it came from given the driving beat from the sound system and the yells of the men as they rushed at each other. Then all was melee, and security and police overwhelmed the club. I was somehow knocked down onto the floor while the scuffling went on around me.

It was Roganov who came later that night with money and a lawyer to get me released from the Amsterdam drunk tank for tourists. “You have to be more careful where you hang out,” he told me laughingly as he took me in his black car to his hotel. “And of course, you now have a criminal record. Perhaps charges can be dropped. But those Russians were pretty adamant that you started the entire thing with your assault on the pretty red haired dancer.”

“What?! I did no such thing. I was merely sitting there drinking my Pink Lady when she insisted herself on me.”

“Uh Yes, I meant to tell you about that…dont drink that in front of the guys. Anyway I may be able to do you a favor and get the Russians to forget it. They owe me a favor.”

“What? You know them?”

“Well, lets just say we are competitors in a similar business. And I might also say, that I know what your business is Mr. Jeffry Jordan, Headmaster of Hampshire Heath Prep school for young gentleman. So I guess you were doing a bit of research to help your young gentleman manage all the things one does when one goes to Amsterdam.”

“You know that’s not true, You, why you, almost kidnapped me. And insisted I stay with you and would not take me back to my hotel.”

“And I thought you were having fun. You did seem to enjoy that one particular red headed girl. I do have a great pic on my phone when she most graciously gathered you into her rather fulsome bosom. Would you like to see it?”

“So you are blackmailing me.”

“No. I’m merely asking a favor of you.”

“I cant do it. I wont do anything . I didn’t do anything..

“Hmm, then it seems I’ll not be able to count on my favors from the Russians. Your story will be bannered on the BBC main broadcast. My Russian friends will see to that since they control the robot meme algorithms. I can see the headline: “Headmaster loses head to Mistress.”

Jeffrey knew he was trapped. He would find a way out somehow..he hoped. “What do I have to do?.

Roganov looked at him, the eyes unblinking, taking in every facet of Jeffry, “You just have to travel one more stop after Budapest, go to Sophia. Oh, and use this suitcase.”

He handed me a rather light but hard sided suitcase of the normal carry on size.

“What, you want me to smuggle in drugs, or jewels?”

“On nothing like that. No it will be ok. It’s just a suitcase. I’ll just expect to get the suitcase back in Sophia.”

“You want me to smuggle a suitcase? Can’t you buy one there?”

“Not any suitcase, just this one. It is, shall I say special. But not to anyone but me. It is as ordinary as can be. Just use it as you would.”

“But I’m stopping along the way, what if it gets lost. “

“Then the Russians would remember who started the fight in Elephant Bar, and how.”

And that’s how I found myself here, under a bridge, in the darkest of nights in the dead of winter in the bitter cold in Sophia. As I did for the millionth time in the last week of travel with the suitcase, I wondered just what it could be. What was I risking my life and my freedom and my reputation for.

The ice crystals fell from the bridge overhead as a car passed, then stopped on the other side. Footsteps echoed off the cobbles and stone walls of the houses along the riverside. They came closer as the stairs to the side of the bridge were followed down toward the riverside walkway. I leaned back further in the shadow.

“Jeffrey, So glad to see you. I hope I have not detained you too long. One must always make certain the coast is clear. You can never be too careful you know.”

“I just want this done with. Here. Here’s you case. All empty like you gave it to me. Now let me go.”

“Not so fast. I need to examine it first to ensure that it has not been tampered with.”

“Look I’ve just used it normal ok. I’m freezing here. I want to go and go back to my life.”

Roganov ignored Jeffrey as he opened the case and fiddled with a metal rim at the hinge. A click and a small panel fell away revealing a memory stick. “Ah yes, the package did arrive. Wont Putin enjoy seeing this video of Trump taking Russian mafia money to keep his empire alive.”

.

“But you are Bulgarian. Why do you work for the Russians.”

“We work for who pays.”

“Look I dont want to know about any of this. I just want to go. “

“Fine Jeffrey, You go back to your fine life and fine wife and upstanding reputation. And you will be fine. And then one day, I will call you for a favor. And just like Trump does with Putin, you will do it, as long as you like your fine life. And by the way, I pay too.” An envelope emerged from Roganov’s coat pocket and into Jeffrey’s hand.

Jeffrey stood frozen. Roganov flung the bag into the river and strode off, heels echoing on the cobbles under the bridge. The sounds ended at the automobile which started quickly, and receded off into the cold night.

The envelope was open as he looked down. It was stuffed with 50 Euro notes, 50 of them by the count stamped on the band wrapping them. His body began to warm as he climbed up the steps to the street. He reached the bridge and a decision at the same time. “ I always did enjoy unplanned travel. I’d best be ready in the future.”

With the envelope stuffed firmly in his interior coat pocket, Jeffrey began the walk back to his hotel. The faint sound of a whistle in the wind preceded him.