Storm and Silence (Storm and Silence #1) - Robert Thier Page 0,361

angle. He was young, true - there was not a shadow of beard on his chin - but not too young. His behind was rather larger than usual, but still I didn’t get the feeling that he sat on it all that often. There was a fire in his brown eyes, a desire to prove himself that burned in all people who had long moved out of Lazytown.

‘Yes?’ It sounded more like a question than like an answer. But it was answer enough for me.

I gave a curt nod. ‘I see. Exactly what I have been looking for.’

The young man blinked. ‘But I just told you the house is dilapidated and…’

I cut him off with a jerk of my hand. ‘Not the house, young man. You.’

‘Me?’

‘Yes, you.’ Glancing over my shoulder, I waved towards Mr Elseworth. Or should I say the late Mr Elseworth? In the world of business, he was as good as dead. ‘Karim, get rid of that individual. Our business relationship is terminated. I have no further use for him.’

‘Yes, Sahib.’

‘Now to you.’ Ignoring the protesting shrieks of the pig that was being carted off to slaughter, I focused all of my considerable attention on the young man in front of me. ‘I know a good man when I see one, and I need a bright young man with a good memory and quick mind as my secretary. The last one I had has just left my employment for some unfathomable reason. I think you would be exactly the man for the job.’

The young man’s eyes bugged, and he coughed. Overwhelmed by my generosity, probably.

‘Err… the man for the job? Sorry, but I don't quite think that I'm the one you want, Sir.’

What the heck? Why was he being difficult?

‘Can you read and write?’

‘Yes, but…’

‘Do you have employment?’

‘No, Sir, but…’

Bloody hell, what was this? He should be kissing my feet! I didn’t have time for this.

‘Well then, it's settled.’ My gaze drilled into him, making clear that by ‘settled’, I meant ‘very, absolutely, finally settled’. ‘Be at my office, nine sharp Monday morning.’

Taking a step towards the youngster, I held out my card to him. Having those cards printed had been abominably expensive, but having to waste my time reciting my address would cost me even more time and money.

‘Here.’

As I stepped forward and the last remnants of mist between me and the young man disappeared, his jaw suddenly sagged and a glazed look came into his eyes, as if he were seeing a unicorn with an extra horn sticking out of its behind. Why was he staring at me like that? Impatiently, I waved the card.

‘Hello, young man? Are you listening to me?’

‘Err… yes. Yes, I am.’ The young man shook himself. ‘You just surprised me, Sir. I must admit, that it's not every day I get an offer like that.’

‘See that that you're not “surprised” too often when you are in my employ. I have no use for baffled fools standing around gawking for no good reason.’

Still, the youngster hadn’t taken the card I was holding out to him. What was the matter? Was he mentally retarded?

‘My card!’ I said, waving the thing impatiently. He finally took it, and studied it as if it were a particularly peculiar bug. Maybe I’d better rethink hiring him… But no. I needed a secretary, and fast. If I had to deal with one more charity request for helpless little orphans, I was going to shoot someone. Probably the orphans.

Bah! What was I waiting for? I had wasted enough time on this little worm!

‘Don't be late.’ I sent him another significant look. ‘I don't tolerate tardiness.’ With that, I turned and marched away down the street. If he showed up, good. If not, he wouldn’t have been tough enough for the job, anyway. Soon, the young man disappeared in the mist somewhere behind me.

‘Where to now, Sahib?’ Karim asked from beside me, keeping pace.

Wordlessly, I nodded at the bank down the street.

‘Very well, Sahib.’

There were quite a few customers in Bradley & Bullard’s Bank, waiting at tables, writing documents, busily chatting. At least they chatted until Karim, his sabre, his turban and his beard stepped into the main hall. All voices died, and all eyes were drawn to the huge Mohammedan. Then I followed him inside, and Karim was forgotten. There are things with which even a sabre and a turban cannot compete.

Ignoring the line of people in front of the counter, I marched up to the closest bank