Siren of the Waters: A Jana Matinova Investigation, Vol. 2 by Michael Genelin Page B

a place where a fun time was going to be enjoyed by all. The putative decorators had hung multicolored streamers from the ceiling in a feeble attempt to disguise reality. Unfortunately, the ambient light made the streamers look like a demented spider’s web, with a huge tarantula waiting in a corner to scuttle across the strands and drop on an unsuspecting customer to devour him.
    There were the usual complement of B-girls sitting at a small bar, half asleep because there were no available single men for them to fasten onto. The few customers in the place appeared bored, dressed in clothes that looked like they were from a vintage thrift shop that sold third-hand apparel. None of the customers were listening to the performers, too busy with each other or with drinking to care.
    Jana watched the performers pretending to be the life of a party that only existed in their own minds. A man who was too old for the job sang a duet with a young blonde who had her eyes lined with kohl and her lips darkly painted to make them look ripe and sexy. The four-piece group backing the duet wore huge T-Shirts on which “Vadym’s Place” was painted in fluorescent Cyrillic.
    It was Vadym they were waiting for.
    “He is a clod,” Mikhail’s wife hissed. “An hour eating this terrible food, drinking this awful wine.” Adriana, normally very cheerful, had been happy when Mikhail suggested she accompany them to the club, but the place had an aura that made her uneasy and anxious. Vadym’s lateness was not helping. So she complained. “If he does not come in the next ten minutes, I want to go home.”
    Mikhail rolled his eyes, shifting his bulk, trying to get comfortable in the cramped booth. “He will be here. He’s always late. He’s that kind of person.”
    “Late!” She spit it out. “That means he’s a bad police officer.”
    “My sweet, there are good police officers who are always late.” The look on her face indicated that Mikhail’s attempt to appease her had failed. He kept trying. “He is very proud of this place.”
    “What kind of police officer owns a nightclub? There are whores at the bar. They must work for him.”
    “Prostitution is not illegal in this wonderful country of ours. They are independent. They pay a small rental fee for the chairs. It’s good for business.”
    Adriana took out her compact and began to fix her makeup, turning to Jana. “Do you remember when you two met in that school in Budapest? How we all had fun at night? Those places we went to, they were cheerful. Not like this filthy cave.” She turned back to Mikhail. “I promise you, Mikhail, I will leave here if he does not come in five minutes.”
    “Vadym will come.”
    “The International Law Enforcement Academy in Budapest. Good people; a good learning experience.” Jana smiled at Adriana. “And, yes, good fun. Young police officers can still have fun.”
    “Budapest was a wonderful city.” Mikhail smiled, remembering. “A good place for a friendship to start.”
    “I was jealous,” Adriana sniffed. Her eyes roved over to Mikhail, who looked embarrassed.
    Jana shrugged. “We have always just been friends, Adriana.”
    “Just friends,” echoed Mikhail.
    “Good.” Adriana, satisfied, slipped her hand into one of Mikhail’s big paws. “I knew it. I just wanted to hear it.” She went back to her least favorite person of the moment. “You were in the police academy in Kiev with Vadym. You told me the instructors did not like him, Mikhail.”
    “What do instructors know about who will really make a good police officer? They guess.”
    “They liked you.”
    Mikhail looked embarrassed again. “Vadym was always a little pompous. He would try to correct the instructors to show them how much he knew. They didn’t care for that.”
    “And they didn’t like his showing up late,” Adriana added.
    “That too,” Mikhail agreed.
    The orchestra took its break. “Thanks to God, they are finally stopping,” Adriana muttered