CHAPTER 13

“Play it again, Sam,” were Ingrid Bergman’s famous words to the piano player in Casablanca. Who in the world would ever forget them? Certainly not the owner of Sam’s, a trendy cafe/restaurant in Riga.  Misha was too subtle to plaster the place with old posters advertising the film. Nor did he have a tinkling piano in one corner of the cozy restaurant. But the vibe was there. Nostalgia reigned. And, for some reason, a happy mix of expats and local Latvians chose to assemble there. The entire place was a smoking section, even though this was against regulations. Bogie would have liked that. And, besides, the food was good and not too expensive.

Sitting at the bar, one could spin yarns as long as forever and no one would ever care. Somehow the place made patrons remember things that weren’t there and talk about things that had never happened. The ambiance fostered fantasies and was comfortable with half-truths, tall tales and even outright lies.

For a number of these reasons, Sam’s had become the go-to place for Eggie. He could sit with his cigs and coffee for hours, just staring into space and no one would bother him. But this noon time he was expecting two ladies to join him. It was quite brilliant of him to use Simone as a go-between—simple Simone, as he often thought of her, but also useful Simone.

And here she was, standing momentarily at the entrance of the restaurant as if to herald a celebrity. No one would be disappointed. Vika was resplendent. She had not held back. Her diamonds were meant to be worn and not locked up in a safe. Even if just for lunch.

Bernie had liked her to be showy and showy she was. It wasn’t vanity as much as habit—always pandering to Bernie’s preference. She hadn’t adjusted yet to modest yet elegant Riga.

Sequins all over her bright blue t shirt, and an enormous, multi colored, cashmere pashmina (banned in the USA) draped over her shoulders, form fitting black leggings and stiletto booties. Here in Latvia there were no PETA advocates to lecture her about cruelty to Pashmina goats.

All eyes turned to her as she followed Simone to Eggie’s table. Some eyes were more focused than others. Arseniy happened to be on duty, having postponed his retirement due to lack of money. Star struck, he stared at her like an eagle about to swoop down on colorful prey. The flash of diamonds on her fingers, her ears, her wrist dazzled him. Without hesitation, he made a beeline for Simone who was ushering the diamond-studded princess to a nearby table.

“So good to see you again, Simone (it took a few moments to come up with her name).”

Seated between Eggy and Vika, Simone blushed with pleasure. She turned coy, looking up at Arsy from under lowered eyes. Eggy exhaled a stream of smoke and Vika gave the waiter a quick appraising look.

“We’d like to see a menu, please,” she said in English, ignoring Arsy’s million-watt smile.

He bowed slightly. “Yes, lady.”

“But wait. We’ll have our drinks right now.” Vika turned to Eggy and Simone who were momentarily puzzled. “I’m having a mint julep. How about you?” She smiled to herself. She was the guest. Those two will pick up the tab. “And then the wine menu, please.”

Eggy wanted coffee. Simone chose orange juice.

“How are you enjoying Riga so far?” Eggy asked inanely, hoping to break the ice.

Vika felt like rolling her eyes. Instead she simpered, “It’s marvelous! So beautiful! So… um… European and–”

Her words were interrupted by Arsy who was approaching with an obsequious expression on his brazenly handsome face. “Bartender said no mint—how you say?”

“No mint juleps. What kind of a joint is this?” Vika flapped her hand in  exasperation. “Okay bring me gin and tonic. And make it a double.”

How to get the conversation to hospitals—to hospital visits? She hadn’t  stopped thinking of Svetlana. She decided to be direct.

“Yesterday I had a real shock. I met a lady at the Radisson and we became quite friendly. She was hit by a car on Elizabetes Street. An ambulance came. I want to visit this lady. Can you help me?”

Simone’s face was expressionless. Eggy pulled out his crumpled pack and lit another cigarette. No one spoke for a full minute. This was not going as planned. The silence was broken by Arsy who gave a slight bow, deposited the drinks and presented the menus.

Vika frowned. Her voice took on a lofty tone. “Lemon, or better still, lime, please.”

Arsy’s shoulders slumped. He had some choice words for this sukha. Still, one look at the dazzling tennis bracelet on her wrist and he again offered his slight bow and ingratiating smile.

“Yes, lady.”

Vika turned to her companions who were sipping their coffee and juice.

“I was hoping you could help me. I have no one else to turn to.”

Vika didn’t do pathetic very well. She had never had to cajole or sweet talk to get her way. She looked at Eggy and Simone expectantly. Strange that Eggy’s eyes had lost their power over her. She knew how to take control of a situation. Living with Bernie had taught her a thing or two.

“If it’s a question of money…” She let the words trail off.

Arsy was back with a wedge of lemon and ready to take orders.

“I’ll have your best fish dish and a salad,” she said. Then seeing the puzzled expression on the waiter’s face she relented. “Alright. Fine. I’ll have the chicken. She looked around. Yes, chicken it was for the three of them.

“And a bottle of… um… ,” She consulted the wine menu. “Burgundy.”

Eggy and Simone exchanged worried glances. They had invited her for lunch. This meal would ruin them.

Speech lapsed into silence as the meal was presented and the wine poured. Over coffee Vika again tried to glean information about hospitals but didn’t learn much. There was shoulder shrugging and lighting up of cigarettes but nothing else.

Misha, the owner of Sam’s had observed their table Wreathed in smiles, he approached.

“How was everything?” To which Vika replied, her tone icy, “It was alright.” She was getting tired of the sycophantic attention she had attracted.

Once coffee and dessert were over, she allowed Eggy to pick up the tab. It was just a little test to see what these folks were really up to. She could just imagine them regrouping. How much more money were they prepared to lose?

Misha was still standing there, with Arsy hovering close by. Vika decided to pose her question.

“Tell me. I’ve been trying to find out.” She shot a disparaging look at her table companions. “If a person is hit by a car on Elizabetes Street which hospital would the person be taken to?”

Misha gave her a startled look. “When did this happen? Who was hit?” Vika waved this away. “Just tell me.”

“Let me see. You said Elizabetes Street. I think there are two possibilities. Trauma Center Vidzemes priekspilseta and the Second Rigas hospital Zemgales priekspilseta.”

This didn’t mean anything to Vika. She gave Misha a sort of smiling frown. “I don’t quite understand…”

Arsy saw his big chance. Ignoring his boss, he pushed himself forward.

“I’m off in an hour. I can help you find… I have sister working in one hospital and  cousin working in other. Then we can go.”

Misha spread his arms magnanimously. “That’s good, Arseniy. But you can go right now. Lunch is almost over and I can help out myself.”