The three men climbed upward in silence through the dark, stifling stairwell. As always when he came to Timothy’s place, a wave of disgust rose in Noud. Grimacing, he hung back, keeping his distance from Bernard; he didn’t want to feel the man’s nervous energy. Timothy led the way calmly, almost suspiciously cheerful. His heavy breathing echoed in the narrow space.
When they entered the apartment, Timothy didn’t switch on the lights. Moonlight spilled across the elegant living room, glinting off the crystals. Noud dropped wearily onto the grey sofa, which nearly disappeared into the shadowed corner. The pale glow of the moon shimmered on the glass tabletop.
“Shall I begin?” Timothy asked hoarsely.
He forced seriousness onto his face, but beneath the tight mask, an unrestrained, almost childlike excitement seeped through. Noud would have loved to snap at him to drop the act and get to the point. He had a bad feeling. Timothy’s excitement always came at a price.
Bernard sat curled up in the wicker egg chair by the terrace door, his legs drawn in. The tremor tearing through him was almost visible. Noud had rarely seen him like this.
“I’ll take Ted off your hands.”
Dead silence followed. Nobody just “takes over” something like that. Timothy’s words seeped into Noud’s mind like meaningless noise. Bernard didn’t move.
“You heard me?” the big red-haired man asked irritably.
“And did you hear yourself?” Bernard shot back.
A quiet, mocking laugh escaped Timothy.
“Sorry, boys, but I expected a bit more enthusiasm. That guy’s caused you quite a headache. And Carlos. And Viktoria. And who knows who else.”
Bernard remained motionless. Like a machine that had been pushed aside and unplugged, he sat rigid in the chair. Noud had no choice but to respond.
“Timothy… this isn’t funny. Not now. You can see how much this whole thing has worn us down. Viktoria showing up hit harder than Carlos’s meddling. That, at least, could be handled with a trip to Bangkok,” he whispered tiredly. “Besides, the two old men nearly died.”
Timothy waved a dismissive hand.
“You’re exaggerating. These are standard, well-tested methods. The old man just wanted to get into your heads. Looks like it worked.”
Bernard exhaled sharply and buried his face in his hands.
Timothy continued.
“Of course, you did end up among a rather troublesome bunch. Who would’ve thought? And Viktoria… no one really saw her coming. But the point is: I’m taking this off your hands. And that’s not up for debate.”
“You barely know anything.”
“You’re wrong, Noud. I know more than you think.”
“Oh, sure.”
Timothy smiled.
“You’ll see soon enough. Someone else is coming.”
Bernard let out a weary groan.
“I really don’t want to discuss Ted with Viktoria.”
“You’ve talked to her more than enough already. She’s not the one we’re waiting for.”
Noud’s head snapped up.
“Oh no… not someone else.”
“Not entirely new. You just haven’t found her place in the puzzle yet. Or rather,” he added quickly, “you weren’t looking for her.”
Bernard shot to his feet.
“Timothy, enough. Stop dancing around it — we’re not in some stupid crime drama. Just tell us why we’re here and stop playing with our nerves.”
“Okay, okay,” Timothy said, raising both palms. “You’re right. I’ll call Dajana.”
“Call who?” the two Dutch men shouted in unison.