“I feel sorry for that Dajana,” Viktoria said, scratching her head as she watched her husband bustling around the grill.
“It’s not such a big deal to break something.”
“On María José’s terrace? Where her little dog runs around with its tiny paws?”
Adrian watched longingly as Noud and Carlos, presumably arguing, stood together. What could be causing the tension between the neighbors who used to regularly dine at each other’s places? The Slovak man couldn’t decide what he envied more: the company or the argument.
Carlos sat up in bed, startled. The full moon's light illuminated the entire bedroom, so he didn’t need to turn on the night lamp. With his heart pounding in his throat, he yanked open the wardrobe door. He couldn’t believe his eyes.
“What do you think, Noud? What’s all this about?” Bernard asked once the courtyard of the complex had finally quieted down.
“To be honest, I have no idea. But I wouldn’t want to be in Ted’s shoes. By the way, I think he suspects us.”
The sweet scent of waffles and the unmistakable aroma of crispy bacon filled the courtyard. The two young police officers cast longing glances toward Günter's house. The early morning call had left neither of them with time for breakfast.
Carlos’s age and life experience saved him from a spectacular collapse. Especially not in front of an audience. From the corner of his eye, he noticed his neighbor standing with raised eyebrows and hands in his pockets. Though he nearly fainted, he maintained a stoic expression and continued the supposed conversation.
The grease stains clung stubbornly to Ted’s glasses. No matter how many times he wiped them with his shirt, the situation refused to improve. In fact, it only got worse. The lenses developed streaks that distorted the light in an irritating way, which annoyed him even more than regular dirt.
The two men picked at their breakfast unenthusiastically. And yet, as usual, Noud had gone all out preparing it. This time, only the cheese slices and the grapes separated from the bunch had been eaten—the fried bacon and toast remained untouched.
The Slovak family invited Carlos to a festive dinner. Adrian grilled various meats and vegetables, while Dajana mixed sauces and prepared a fruit salad for the special occasion.
“Cunning little witch,” thought María José. She was certain that Ludmilla's yawning, which had also made her feel sleepy, was merely an act. “She’s pretending to be an innocent, tired old lady.”