Mary took my call instantly, as if she had expected it looking at the phone in front of her on the table.
"Yes, Serge, I think I could meet with you in a couple of minutes. Will you come up to my room?"
Certainly, miss Kilgorn. As I was going upstairs to her room, I called Pavel.
"I'm on my way to her room."
"How's Lena?"
"She's good. A real pro."
"Will she handle Hewlett?"
"I hope so. After all, she's only a Russian journalist."
"I meant in a more generic sense."
"Ah," for a moment I felt taken aback. "I told you, she's a pro, she will cope with it."
"Do you realize that Hewlett's wife, if she comes to know about his hew passion, will be ruthless?"
"Lena can take care of herself."
"I wish you were right."
"Anyhow I will be near."
"By the way, did you ask her what she was doing in the hotel where Hewlett's wife is staying?"
I internally gasped. I completely forgot about it!
"And you?"
"No, I couldn't do it. She might think we have been tailing her."
"How could I ask her about it?"
"I thought you'd come up with some plausible explanation of having seen her there. For instance, that you were studying a way of coming in contact with Hewlett's wife. Lena would have understood it, that's your professional duty."
"My fault, I didn't think about it. Next time I..."
"There might not be a next time," Pavel's voice became unusually harsh. But immediately after that he softened: "Ok, after all, it's none of our business. Hers is an independent operation. See you."
Pavel's timing was perfect, as if he were following my movements from an inside camera (which I couldn't rule out at all).
I was standing by the door of Mary's suite.
Mary came to open the door in a surprising dark green dressing gown that reached her heels and left open the upper part of her breast, that was white, slightly puffy and freckle-studded. Half an hour before I would have looked at it with a very different mood. Now, to use Lena's words, I was a complete wreck. Yet I was a pro, so I produced a phrase suited to the occasion:
"What a pleasant surprise to see you with an informal dress on! You're quite a different person."
She didn't pay much attention to my compliment and motioned me to a chair.
"Want a coffee?" she said half-turned towards the other room.
"No, thank you," I lied.
"Have you had your dinner?"
I lied a second time, telling her about the excellent cuisine at the hotel.
"Oh, what did you eat? Perhaps we'll have dinner with Robert tonight here. To eat well in an unknown place one needs first of all a good recommendation".
You fool! I cursed mentally and described a fabulous beefsteak I had eaten once in Saint Petersburg.
"Oh, that's good. I'll tell Robert about your experience."
I never knew before that moment Hewlett's first name and referred to him only as Hewlett. And now she called him Robert in front of me and seriously thought of coming to dinner with him. She didn't yet know about the new powerful figure on the chessboard.
My own juicy description almost made me dizzy from hunger. I decided to change my disposition and said:
"If you are going to take a cup of coffee, I might keep you company."
"Sure", Mary smiled understandingly, and made for the back room where I could see a small coffee maker on a table. As she made the first step her dressing gown's flaps opened for an instant and her naked white flesh flashed. She immediately tightened the sash at once and proceeded unabashed.
"Will you eat a cake with it?" she cried to me.
"Yes, thank you." That would be a temporary salvation from hunger death.
Three minutes later they were sipping their coffee. My tiny cake disappeared quite indecently in the very first moment and now was demanding a good company like a pan of fried eggs with bacon or something more substantial. But I had to behave myself, and now I cautiously began a dialogue disguised as small talk.
"How was the meeting?"
"It was interesting", said Mary. "You know, I have got the impression that your people has a tremendous hurry lo live, as if tomorrow life stops definitely. At least that regards the persons we're dealing with now."
"I think that's precisely the feeling they've got. Life here has sped up tremendously in these last few years. Do you have any idea who the person was you had to do with?"
Mary had a moment's hesitation before answering:
"He behaved like a big shot. But, strangely enough, he didn't give his name, at least orally, only a card, but he handed it directly to Robert."
"And Mr Hewlett didn't show it to you?"
"No, perhaps the stranger asked Robert, when I had to go out, not to divulge his name to nobody, even to me."
"How did he look like?"
"Oh, nothing special, he must be over fifty, with big mass of grey hair above a red face.
"Oh," I let out involuntarily, but I said something quite contrary to what one might have expected me to say. "There are a lot of state enterprises that have directors with that physique. I'd say this is their biological feature. Grey hair comes from their enormous responsibility and a lot of nervous breakdowns, red face means they drink a lot and can withstand much alcohol, a valuable quality for a director, especially in strong Siberian colds."
"Oh, yes, I noticed that he gulped twice as portions of whisky as Robert did, and he didn't seem drunken."
"I bet he didn't. Did he mention his today's rival?"
"Only indirectly. He asked Robert not to listen to any impostor who claimed to be the real boss of the factory, whatever he would offer.
"But Mr Hewlett didn't tell him, I hope, about your previous meeting?"
"He did it in an elegant way, referring to the capitalist habit of dealing with several candidates in order to choose the best one."
"This person came alone?"
"No, he was accompanied by a young man of a rather athletic build. He didn't talk, but followed attentively our conversation and made some notes in his pad."
"They didn't bring with them a briefcase with a million and a half, did they?"
"They did bring something and left it at the embassy, they did it in an inconspicuous way."
"They were highly suspicious, as I can see, but why? Is there a mole in the embassy? Or did they regard you as a possible mole?"
"Perhaps they transfer their negative local experience to any milieu they have to act in. Everything here has suddenly become mercenary."
"And they have managed to convince Hewlett of their suspicions. Did you arrive to something substantial ?"
"Robert is too cautious for that. He was non-committal."
"Did they agree to continue their contacts?"
"Sure. Tomorrow Robert has to give them his first evaluation to their proposals."
"Does Hewlett trust you? Is he willing to do business with Russians?"
"He's a bit doubtful, but their offers are really generous to decline them. But I don't know what he has on his mind."
"We'll try to find it out tonight", I thought. Lena must have been through the first phase of her interview.
I was wrong. There was a knock at the door. When Mary got to her feet, saying loudly "Come in!", I heard Hewlett's voice, which excused and asked if I was there because there was need for my help.
I rose and made for the door. Hewlett was whispering something to Mary, very intimately, as it seemed to me. Seeing me, he nodded and said:
"There came a young lady from a Russian business edition, and we're having some trouble communicating with each other. Will you come to give us a hand, please?"
"Sure".
I was wondering what kind of problem might arise with Lena, while we went over to Hewlett's suite. She had quite a good command of English. What the hell then?
Lena sat with her back to the door. When we entered she turned her head toward us, and I was overwhelmed with emotion. Pushkin was damn right, to hell with him! She was devilishly, unusually pretty, with her slightly pinky cheeks, all her face seemed glowing with inward bless. Her eyes were sparkling with deep happiness. I felt a wave of intense desire.
"Hi," I said in Russian. "I'm Mr Hewlett's interpreter, Sergey. What's the problem?" They had only few seconds to exchange essential information.
She nodded and said with a charming smile:
"Hi, my name is Svetlana Petrova. I'm a correspondent of "Business in Russia today". I wanted to interview him on some hot issues related to the current Russian business. This cad sensed my mood rightly. He wanted to take me at once. I can't blame him, I'm a hot bitch now. I must calm down. I want you to stay here. It's not good, if he treats me as a whore from the very beginning, you see? I pretended I didn't understand some key terms."
"But..., did he touch you the very first moment he let you come in?"
"Practically yes, he acted like a sexually hungry male. I don't know who briefed him on Russian girls' disposition now, but his idea of it is simple and brutal, that is they are all ready to give in to rich foreigners at their slightest sign. I must keep a distance, for some time at least, I hope he invites me to supper, then the whole affair will take its natural course. Otherwise, he will never take me seriously." Lena rattled it all off trying to get into the words as much information as she could.
"I see," I said without letting out his emotion.
Hewlett stood at my side and was gazing with his gloomy and passionate eyes at Lena's face and lips which were saying unflattering things on his account. Was he afraid that she could expose his infamous behavior? He tried to decode her words from my reaction and my face's expression, now he was anxiously staring at my face, but there was nothing to read on it.
"That's all for now, we must begin, or he will be suspicious", said Lena, giving Hewlett a glance that filled me with keen jealosy. She was reveling now in a deep ocean of primeval male competition for a hot female, and she was that female.
And now they were to talk about business in Russia.
"Well, are you through with technical questions?" said Hewlett without taking his eyes from Lena's face.
"Let's get down to business then."
"Let's flatter him a bit for starters," said Lena, taking her pad. "Tell him this is my first interview with such a high-level western businessman, hence my emotion and nervousness, and all that crap."
"It's ok," said Hewlett. "It's quite natural and understandable. What's your first question?"
We talked for about half an hour. Lena had prepared her part very well. She alternated economical and financial questions with psychological ones, and, which was most astonishing, reacted quickly to Hewlett's answers in an appropriate and witty way. At some moment they exchanged heavy compliments.
"I'm sure of the world success of the new Russian business if it has such stunning representatives like you," said Hewlett.
Lena smiled and answered:
"If our businesswomen had to deal with such charming persons like you, you would be the richest man in the world, because they would give you their goods free."
"Charming?" I said in a low voice in Russian as if in doubt.
"Yes, he is", said Lena, and I felt she meant it.
Thinking of that interview later in a quite cold and rational mood I found it a singular example of double-layered human nature. They were talking about serious matters involving politics, history and national psychology. "What do you think about our national disposition towards business?", "do you find our expectations too exaggerated not to bring about deep frustration in a short term?", "yes, there is a certain danger in that, but not for genuinely persevering characters of which your history and your present is rich", and such stuff on the surface, and deeper, but not so deep not to intertwine with the surface currents, feelings and thoughts like "what a marvelous bitch, I want you so much, and I'll have you, by God, by all means", or "he's quite a good stud, I wonder how he is in bed"; and my bitter voice somewhere in background: "treacherous whore, I will smash you when I bang you next time".
She said at last, in English, as a sign that she had fully recovered her self-control:
"I must thank you heartily, Mr Hewlett, for your very interesting and informative interview. How long will you be staying here in Moscow?"
I expected him to say:
"I will stay here all my life if you tell me so." But he said something different:
"The day after tomorrow I have an important meeting in London. But I'm sure I'll be coming back many times again."
He rose to feet. There was an awkward pause. Lena was putting her pad into her bag. I looked at Hewlett, and Hewlett was slightly impatient to dismiss us both. Lena told me in Russian with her lips only as she smiled to Hewlett:
"He's not going to invite me to dinner."
"What did you say?" he said politely.
"Nothing special, I thanked him for assistance."
"Ah, yes, yes, that's right, I thank you too."
She turned with a momentarily hardened expression and went to the door. Hewlett went behind. When she took the knob, he said:
"You know, if you're not too engaged with your current job duties, why shouldn't we dine together, let's say, at nine or ten tonight, uh?. Here they have a good restaurant with a show."
Lena stopped and paused (dignity is the motto!) before she answered:
"Your interview is due to come out the day after tomorrow. I'll go through what I have taken down now. Perhaps I'll have to ask you some more questions. I could do it at dinner, if you don't mind".
"Not at all", said Hewlett with a vague smile.
I thought: 'I wonder why he didn't lick his lips anticipating what would happen after dinner'.
"Will you need me?" I asked nonchalantly and suggested: "I don't think so, Svetlana is quite good at English, her nervousness and anxiety have gone, as I can see."
She looked straight into my eyes and said:
"I think so, too. We can do without you."
My heart sank, I said with an awkward smile:
"Ok, then. Anyway, I will be always here at your disposal." (To bring you coffee and sandwiches in bed?)
Hewlett said to Lena:
"Let's exchange our cell-phone numbers. You will give me a call when you can come."
I left the room with a heavy heart.