Maserov drove back to the city in an optimistic state of mind. He’d got what Betga wanted, Carla’s acknowledgement that he was Marietta’s father. On top of that, Eleanor, obviously suspecting he didn’t have a work appointment but was seeing a woman, couldn’t hide her hurt and anger. That had to be encouraging.
He hadn’t lied to Eleanor. He was driving back to the city for work and he really did have to meet someone at a scheduled time, which is what is commonly referred to as a ‘meeting’. But it was also true that he was driving back to the city to see a woman, someone whose company he enjoyed, who thought well of him and whom he found very attractive. She was also single. All in all, he felt better than he had at any time in recent memory.
In the car he decided to call Betga, who was beginning to seem more like an ally than a negotiating adversary. ‘I have news for you, an update,’ Maserov said over speakerphone while driving back to the city. ‘It’s not something one lawyer normally gets the chance to say to another.’
‘I hope you don’t charge by the word,’ he heard Betga say. ‘I’m due at the Grosvenor in ten minutes. Kasimir has a dear friend celebrating his statistically unlikely parole. The man is a prime candidate for life coaching. What’s your news? You got authority from Malcolm Torrent to negotiate?’
‘No, that’s not my news. You’re not going to need Marietta’s saliva. Congratulations, you’re a father to a beautiful healthy little girl.’
‘What? How do you know?’
‘Carla admitted it.’
‘You’re kidding?’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘Did you record it . . . on your phone?’
‘No, but I’ve got witnesses.’
‘Who?’
‘Eleanor, my wife.’
‘Anyone else?’
‘The acting sergeant.’
‘The sad cop?’
‘Yep.’
‘She said it in front of him?’
‘Yep. She even said I can tell you.’
‘Hell . . . she admits I’m Marietta’s father!’
For a moment Betga really was speechless.
‘Betga, are you there?’
‘Yeah, I’m here.’ Maserov heard a sniff down the line. Either a strain of cold virus had suddenly attacked a part of Betga’s upper respiratory tract or he was choked up by the news.
‘Are you alright?’
‘Yeah. Where are you?’
‘I’m in the car.’
‘You want to meet me for a drink at the Grosvenor? I’m officially Marietta’s father! My pitch to Kasimir’s friend won’t take long.’
‘No, I have to head back into the office.’
‘No, you don’t. I know what you’re working on. It’s me . . . and my clients.’
‘Well, yeah but something else has kind of . . . come up.’
‘Hmmm,’ said Betga, with a grin that was visible over the phone.