available,” she says. “Would you like to eat or just have something to drink?”
Normally Yuri does not waste time being nice to waitresses, but today he smiles politely.
“I’m starving,” he says. “What do you recommend?”
“The
sbas
is good,” she smiles back, referring to the traditional yoghurt soup with wheat and mint.
“That will do fine,” Yuri smiles again. “A bowl of
sbas
, some bread and some sausages if you have them.”
“Very well. And to drink?”
“Just water for now.”
When she returns with a basket of bread and utensils, Yuri slips a thousand dram bill for her on the table. “That’s for the good recommendation,” he says.
“Thanks,” she says with a warm smile, “but don’t you want to taste the soup first to be sure?”
“No need. I trust you already.”
This is an unusual exchange, and the waitress is intrigued and cautious at the same time.
When she brings the soup, he asks her to wait a minute while he tastes it. He takes a spoon, and looks up to her.
“This is excellent indeed,” he says, “I knew I could trust you.”
“I’m glad you like it.” She starts to leave, but he stops her again.
“I have a small question,” he says, lowering his voice. “I hope you don’t mind. Are those two gentlemen over there from around here?”
The waitress looks toward the table for a second. “Can’t say for sure,” she says. “This place is on a busy road as you know, and we get a lot of people passing through. Do you want me to ask them?”
“Oh no, no need. I was just curious. So they are not regulars here, right? Otherwise you probably would have recognized them.”
“The fact is, I myself am not a regular here. I work only three days a week. So it is possible that I’ve missed them even if they have been here.”
Yuri eats quickly, visits the restroom and leaves, dropping another thousand-dram tip on the table, and hoping that that will create enough good will for her not to mention his queries to the two men.
The waitress watches as Yuri’s car pulls out of the driveway, then walks over and puts her hand on
Khev Gago’s
shoulder. “What was that all about?”
“You tell me, Houri jan,” says Gagik. “Edik was watching him and he says he was quite generous with you.”
“That he was,” laughs Houri, who is one of Gagik’s cousins. “He wanted to know whether you two fine gentlemen are from these parts. That seemed to matter to him.”
“Be careful with him,” says Gagik. “He’s been in Aparan a few times, but not here until now. Let me know if he shows up again.”
“Will do. Can I get you two anything else?”
“Thanks,” says Laurian standing up. “I need to get going. See you two soon.”
Yuri has confirmed Viktor’s visit to the Galians and heard the conflicting and garbled rumors about the Galians’ daughter, ranging from the ‘successful model in Greece’ version to ‘prostitute’ and many variants inbetween. There is no doubt in Yuri’s mind that the Ayvazians recruited a Galian into prostitution. Although nothing specific in the rumors ties her story to Ayvazian, the pattern fits perfectly, even if not a single detail in the rumors is true. People would be afraid to include Ayvazian in rumors anyway, even after his death, and it is not the details that matter, but the very nature of the stories, involving modeling and prostitution. That, and the confusion surrounding it, is trademark Ayvazian.
But in spite of the overwhelming evidence of a link, the thought that the Galians may have been in any way involved in the Ayvazians’ and Hamo’s killings does not even cross Yuri’s mind. Peasants, and vulnerable ones at that, simply do not go around killing powerful people. The most likely explanation remains that the killings were planned and executed by another oligarch. So Yuri does not think a visit to the Galians would add much to what he has already learned.
He decides the time has come to go back to Moscow
Normally Yuri does not waste time being nice to waitresses, but today he smiles politely.
“I’m starving,” he says. “What do you recommend?”
“The
sbas
is good,” she smiles back, referring to the traditional yoghurt soup with wheat and mint.
“That will do fine,” Yuri smiles again. “A bowl of
sbas
, some bread and some sausages if you have them.”
“Very well. And to drink?”
“Just water for now.”
When she returns with a basket of bread and utensils, Yuri slips a thousand dram bill for her on the table. “That’s for the good recommendation,” he says.
“Thanks,” she says with a warm smile, “but don’t you want to taste the soup first to be sure?”
“No need. I trust you already.”
This is an unusual exchange, and the waitress is intrigued and cautious at the same time.
When she brings the soup, he asks her to wait a minute while he tastes it. He takes a spoon, and looks up to her.
“This is excellent indeed,” he says, “I knew I could trust you.”
“I’m glad you like it.” She starts to leave, but he stops her again.
“I have a small question,” he says, lowering his voice. “I hope you don’t mind. Are those two gentlemen over there from around here?”
The waitress looks toward the table for a second. “Can’t say for sure,” she says. “This place is on a busy road as you know, and we get a lot of people passing through. Do you want me to ask them?”
“Oh no, no need. I was just curious. So they are not regulars here, right? Otherwise you probably would have recognized them.”
“The fact is, I myself am not a regular here. I work only three days a week. So it is possible that I’ve missed them even if they have been here.”
Yuri eats quickly, visits the restroom and leaves, dropping another thousand-dram tip on the table, and hoping that that will create enough good will for her not to mention his queries to the two men.
The waitress watches as Yuri’s car pulls out of the driveway, then walks over and puts her hand on
Khev Gago’s
shoulder. “What was that all about?”
“You tell me, Houri jan,” says Gagik. “Edik was watching him and he says he was quite generous with you.”
“That he was,” laughs Houri, who is one of Gagik’s cousins. “He wanted to know whether you two fine gentlemen are from these parts. That seemed to matter to him.”
“Be careful with him,” says Gagik. “He’s been in Aparan a few times, but not here until now. Let me know if he shows up again.”
“Will do. Can I get you two anything else?”
“Thanks,” says Laurian standing up. “I need to get going. See you two soon.”
Yuri has confirmed Viktor’s visit to the Galians and heard the conflicting and garbled rumors about the Galians’ daughter, ranging from the ‘successful model in Greece’ version to ‘prostitute’ and many variants inbetween. There is no doubt in Yuri’s mind that the Ayvazians recruited a Galian into prostitution. Although nothing specific in the rumors ties her story to Ayvazian, the pattern fits perfectly, even if not a single detail in the rumors is true. People would be afraid to include Ayvazian in rumors anyway, even after his death, and it is not the details that matter, but the very nature of the stories, involving modeling and prostitution. That, and the confusion surrounding it, is trademark Ayvazian.
But in spite of the overwhelming evidence of a link, the thought that the Galians may have been in any way involved in the Ayvazians’ and Hamo’s killings does not even cross Yuri’s mind. Peasants, and vulnerable ones at that, simply do not go around killing powerful people. The most likely explanation remains that the killings were planned and executed by another oligarch. So Yuri does not think a visit to the Galians would add much to what he has already learned.
He decides the time has come to go back to Moscow
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