Chapter 25

Arsy was desperate to stay safe in a clearly dangerous situation. He was being shaken down but for what?

“I don’t know what you want from me. I’m just an artist—that is, when I have the time. Mostly I’m just a waiter.” Arsy didn’t like to sound pathetic but his voice came out as squeaky and beseeching. He was scared.

The visitor chortled. “Maybe this is your lucky day. Maybe you’ll get big tips or, better still, a nice commission. Become rich and famous.”

Arsy’s face brightened. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. He hauled himself up from the futon he had collapsed on. “I can show you some of my work.” He reached into his storage space and smiled his special smile. Not the seductive one he used on women but his own natural smile, which was sincere and likable. He clearly had great expectations.

“Look. You might like. Right here where—”

A raised hand interrupted. “I’m sure you’re brilliant. This commission is a little… well, special.”

“Special?” Arsy’s smile started to vanish.

“Here’s the thing. We know you’re an associate of Juris Lapins—”

“But…” This time it was Arsy’s turn to interrupt.

Again he was silenced. “Never mind. I must introduce myself. My name is Ivo. My friends and I have seen you with Juris. Pity he never invited you into his Jurmala mansion. It’s said to be full of original art work. But he hasn’t recognized your talent. Uses you as an errand boy—as a mule. That must be humiliating for someone with your talent.”

Arsy pulled out his cigarettes.

“No. Don’t do that. I’ve quit and don’t want to be tempted.”

Arsy’s shoulders slumped. What the hell did this guy want?

“We want to get to know Juris Lapins a little better. He has a nice family. A beautiful granddaughter.”

Arsy frowned. That’s it, isn’t it? Now I’m a gigolo. He sighed wearily, knowing what was coming.

There was a longish silence as Ivo organized his thoughts. How to make it so that the guy doesn’t refuse? He wanted this to go smoothly. He too had a boss who was watching every move.

“Look, she’s a fellow artist. Currently enrolled at Riga’s Art Academy. You’d have a great deal in common.”

“Except I never went there,” Arsy interjected. His tone was bitter. “That’s for rich kids and those with blats.”

“Okay, sure, but this is one rich kid you’d like. She’s only twenty or something. First year, we think. No matter. All you need is a name and the rest is up to you. We’ll even throw in some cash so that you can wine and dine the little lady. But just don’t disappoint us.”

Arsy answered with a tentative, “Well… I still don’t see…”

Ivo’s  smile was conciliatory “Now, we’re not asking you to marry her. Just make sure she falls in love with you. You’ve got what it takes.”

A brief mirthless laugh followed. Perhaps an attempt to downplay Arsy’s good looks. Although youngish, Ivo certainly didn’t have what it would take. He was short, fattish, almost bald and his teeth were deplorable.

Arsy was dying for a cigarette. He just had to get this over with. “What’s her name?”

“That’s the ticket. Good.” Ivo looked ready to leave. “Her name is Aina. Aina Lapina.”

The name meant nothing to Arsy. He was bamboozled. What the hell was he supposed to do with this Aina. He’d never set foot in the Art Academy. So, now he was ordered to find this girl and make her fall in love. And then what?

On his way to the door Ivo placed a wad on Arsy’s futon. And a photo of a very pretty girl.

“There will be much more if you follow instructions but if you do not…” Ivo trailed off. Narrowing his eyes, he gestured at everything in the room. “This place is an old fire trap. Old timber burns well. I’m surprised that the city hasn’t had it torn down yet.”

Arsy’s eyes went wild. “But just tell me. What are those instructions?”

Ivo was enjoying the panic he had created. The threat of fire usually did the job. “Don’t worry. Right now just make friends with this girl. We’ll get in touch with you after that.”

Arsy was getting even more nervous and started to pat down his pockets again, looking for his pack of cigarettes, knowing he was not allowed to smoke. What was he supposed to do? He paced around his small room while Ivo just smiled.

“Have fun,” were his parting words.

Arsy felt trapped. One hundred euros to seduce a young art student. How cheap! How cynical! He looked at the photo. A very nice-looking girl but not outrageously beautiful.

And what was he to get out of all this? It looked like the famous offer that you weren’t supposed to refuse. Luckily Ivo hadn’t heard about Svetlana and Arsy’s role in spiriting her to safety. And Arsy still had plans to sell Vika the Rozentals he had worked so hard to perfect. And which Juris had rejected—much as he had rejected Arsy’s art production as a whole. It still smarted to remember Ivo’s words: Juris has a house full of art but none of it is yours.

Before doing anything else, Arsy had to protect the meager belongings he possessed. Luckily he was able to insert a padlock on his door so no one would walk in.

* * *

Arsy hoped inspiration would hit him. How was he to proceed? Standing outside the magnificent old building with its red brick façade and majestic spires, he marveled at this artistic mecca which had gathered under its roof Latvia’s most talented art students—or so one was led to believe.

Arsy looked up at the sky. It was already darkening. And getting cold. He could just pop inside, look around. There was no law against that, was there?

He pulled open the heavy door, stepped inside and immediately felt at home. As the door shut behind him, it was as if he had stepped into another world. He loved the smell. Turpentine mixed with some other scents. He thought of his cat Minka. They probably had an Academy cat somewhere—sort of like a mascot. The place exuded decades upon decades of artistic creation, happy camaraderie and dreams come true.

Once past the entrance, Arsy spied a concierge in her cage to the left of him. Another smell. Some sort of liquor. And cigarette smoke. Heavenly! This place had it all.

He noticed a stream of students proceeding down a large staircase, right below a magnificent stained glass window. He followed, hoping to melt in. His Latvian was excellent so that, at least, wasn’t going to be a problem.

It must have been a recess. As Arsy followed, the group ended up in a little café. Cozy and crowded and jovial and friendly. Arsy pulled out his smokes and lined up at the counter. Boisterous chatter, laughter all around. It was heady. He could so easily imagine himself as an art student, discussing the latest trends in the art world over a brew or a coffee. And the girls were lovely. All of them. How in the world would he find Aina Lapina? All he had was a photo of a pretty young girl.

Arsy lifted his beer and sucked on his cigarette. He was cheek to jowl with the privileged—with the kids who had money and the blats (he was sure of that) to be admitted into this circle of happy campers.

Without wanting to, Arsy had attracted attention. He was someone new. Someone so handsome. A bit older than the rest. A lecturer? Sometimes the Academy employed guest teachers. Perhaps Arsy was about to lead a class on Roman Romanticism or something more esoteric like Art Forgery.

Arsy felt that he had a narrow window of opportunity. He had to take a chance and start talking to someone. Any minute now the recess would be over and the students would be filing back to workshops and classrooms.

He was ready to engage eye contact. Start up a conversation. His mind had been busy making up a story. He was looking for a cousin, a friend, a someone…

The next instant Arsy’s mouth opened in astonishment. The caretaker emptying the refuse in the café looked familiar. God! Could it be Ivo? Would there be some creep looking over his shoulder as he searched for the elusive Aina Lapina?