“Where’s Urban?” asks Wanda.
“The boss has sent them to Vienna,” says Ďula, who makes a grab for Wanda’s knee, but Wanda pushes his hand off so vigorously, that even Rácz, roused from his thoughts, lifts his gaze from his hands.
Urban’s lady-friends are silent. They don’t feel like being pawed by Rácz’s drunken sidekick. They no longer feel like whores; they are attached to, and very much in love with Urban and they want to be faithful to him. They cook for him, buy him clothes, and do whatever he wishes. They’re not jealous of each other. They like and understand each other very much, like sisters. They want everyone to think of them as married women, as Urban’s wives. But it is hard for the men from the hotel to do that, since they remember them as prostitutes. Rácz looks wildly at Ďula. Ďula begins to squint with fear and downs his glass of Chivas Regal. Not that he likes it; he drinks it only because of Rácz. Rácz doesn’t care for it that much, either; he drinks it because it happens to be the most expensive whisky in the bar
“Fucking hell!” the hotelier shouts and bangs his fist on the table. “What’s wrong with the phone?” He drinks. He’s sure that Urban and the lawyer could have phoned a long time ago. “They’re taking their bloody time!”
Finally comes the long-awaited phone call. The lawyer’s voice sounds happy and excited. “Everything’s in order, boss,” he shouts, to drown out the noise and voices of other people’s phone calls, audible in the receiver. “It’s a done deal,” he repeats. “We’ve got credit for everything. We’ve got a ten-year mortgage. We’re on our way home.”
Rácz collects himself. “Are you bringing the money?” he asks joyfully. “No, boss,” shouts the lawyer. “Everything will be done by direct bank transfer. We won’t see a single schilling.”
Rácz nods, a little disappointed. “And how much have they lent us?” he asks.
“Exactly thirty-five million, boss,” the lawyer says proudly.
Rácz feels vertigo. My God, when will Rácz finally pay it all off? So be it. He digs his heels in. He will start acting right away, tomorrow. The department store will be rebuilt as a hoteclass="underline" no doubts there. CentroGourmand will be closed down and speedily converted to a fitness centre with a pool, exercise rooms and a sauna. Also included will be a Thai body massage parlour, and a bar. The Highlander Restaurant will stay, together with other small fast-food operations, or they will be converted to sex shops. Yes, that will be something new! Rácz is getting happier. “Move it, men!” he orders on the phone. “Get in the car and hurry here! You’ve done a great job!” he praises the lawyer.
* * *
When Urban and the lawyer return that evening, complete euphoria breaks out full. Rácz is already drunk, but still sitting upright. He lets his men tell him in detail they’ve seen and done. He is mostly interested in what happened in the bank. He calmly nods when he hears how warmly they were welcomed, how the bankers looked at the sales contracts and business reports for the last few years. It seems to have been a good business deal for the Austrians, too. They’d have liked to meet Herr Rácz in person and they voiced their regrets that he could not actually be present at the negotiations. Rácz is happy to hear that: they respect him. That’s good. He’ll invite them to come here, he decides.
The lawyer brags: the negotiation was so successful because both the lawyer and Urban made a very smooth, solid impression on them. Their Austrian partners were very hospitable; they were disappointed that Rácz’s deputies had to return to their country the same day. They would have preferred to have them both stay for a working dinner. The credit manager, who led the negotiation for the bank, wanted to invite them to some Pervers Club not far from Vienna, saying they’d have had a very good time there.
Rácz praises their refusal of such entertainment. “Tomorrow we’ll have our work cut out for us,” he says. “And so everyone will get a good nightcap of Heevash Reygahl and good night and good-bye to all! We’ll always find time for a big blowout,” the hotelier decides. They drink up, finish their cigars and cigarettes and go to their homes. Urban takes his concubines in a taxi, Ďula drives the lawyer in the hotel Renault, and Rácz takes the lift to his suite. He can’t get to sleep for a long time and keeps tossing and turning in bed. He doesn’t know what to do first. There are so many things to do: renovating his villa overlooking the city, rebuilding the department store, building a fitness centre, his own wedding with Lenka, setting up sex shops, and as well as all that, there is the everyday routine work on hundreds of small, but important details.
Rácz gets up several times during the night. He drinks water from the carafe set out for him, then goes over to the window, lights a Havana and looks into the darkness. The line of light on the horizon over the river almost surprises him. He crawls back into bed, but no matter what, cannot get to sleep. Only just before dawn does he doze off and dream a brief flash of a dream, one of very few in his life.
None of the dream was true. Rácz was going home to his native village without a crown in his pocket. He was walking slowly and heavily, even though his bag was empty. Eržika had married proud Feri Bartaloš and Rácz couldn’t even recall their faces. The road was wet and Rácz wandered through the village. Nobody recognized him and he couldn’t even find the way to Kišš’s house. He silently accepted hospitality from a stranger. The man’s wife brought him out a bowl of bean soup and a thick slice of bread. Rácz chewed silently. He wanted to talk about the great wealth he once had, but the words wouldn’t come out of his mouth. When he finally got them out, the man and woman listened to him with sad faces. They were sure he was lying, but they did not call him a liar. Even Rácz was not sure that he’d really been as wealthy as he tried to suggest to the hospitable peasants. He stopped chewing and thought about himself: was he only dreaming, or had he just invented it all? He started crying bitterly, moved by his own fate. He felt pity for himself and for the strange man that he had taken a liking to.
“Time to get up, boss!” Ďula’s voice interrupts him, and Rácz wakes up. He is in bed in his suite and everything is intact. Ďula is standing over him and firmly, but respectfully shaking him by the shoulder. When he sees that the hotelier is awake, he gives an explanation. “You told me to wake you up at half past ten.”
But Rácz is not at all angry. Quite the opposite, he is in a thoroughly good mood, though he’s still sleepy. The bad feeling of the dream has vanished; Rácz jumps out of bed and runs to have a shower. He alternates cold and hot water. He exercises with resolute gestures. He puts on his trousers, shirt and a tie. Ďula snaps his fingers and a waiter quietly enters the room, pushing a breakfast trolley before him. Rácz lets him pour a cup of hot coffee and slurps it down, looking out of the window.
The city is empty. A dark, overcast and lead-coloured sky weighs heavily on the roofs of the buildings. There is no sun; it has been hidden by clouds for a long time. When it does peer out occasionally, it shines a cold, chalky colour. The river is muddy, black. The boats slowly fight the current. A shower of rain passes, drumming on the roofs of cars waiting for a green light at the crossroads.
“Nothing you can do about it,” says Ďula, catching Rácz’s eye. “It’s March,” he adds, as if apologizing.
* * *
What else is there to add?
In the next few days Rácz will take several important steps. He will order the release of the detained Albanians and gypsies. They will all have to swear an oath of loyalty until the grave. From now on, they’ll work only for him.