Poachers Road by John Brady

Felix?”
    Felix tried not to react to the sudden shift.
    “No.”
    “Not even a bit? Mi amore , that sort of endearment?”
    Felix shrugged.
    “ Cappuccino ,” Speckbauer said. “ Ciao , bambino . Carabinieri , maybe?”
    “They are police, that I know.”
    “Indeed they are. Franz, how do you rate our friends in the Carabinieri? Give us out of five only the last couple of years, with our team, our side.”
    Franz held up three fingers.
    “They are only good when we can see what the hell they’re doing. If you go to, I don’t know, Sicily or Calabria, well all bets are off. Where is Giuliana from?”
    “Giuliana who?”
    And Speckbauer exploded into laughter.
    Felix was surprised to realize that his own anger soon disappeared. He looked over to Franz who was wiping the corners of his mouth with a paper napkin. His mouth was like a slash, thin-lipped.
    There was something of the alien look to him.
    “Keep going,” Franz murmured. “He likes it when you kick back.”
    Speckbauer’s laughter subsided and he stopped shaking. He rubbed at the corners of his eyes with his knuckles.
    “Good,” he said, and lifted his cup again. “It’s been a while since we had that. Did Gebhart warn you?”
    “He said to smarten up and mind my manners.”
    “Lovely. Solid advice indeed. Been to Zagreb, have you?”
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because in Zagreb I heard there were problems, gangsters probably.”
    “Okay,” said Speckbauer. “But that has changed for tourists anyway. I forgot, sorry.You’d have been a kid when the crap hit the fan there. Been to Sarajevo?”
    “Same, no.”
    “Slovenia? Laibach, Lyubanya they call it there?”
    “Sure. Maybe a dozen times since I was a kid.”
    “Family trips? Dad driving, like?”
    “Most of them.”
    “You went on a bash or two though, surely. Come on the student drinking weekends? Really, now.”
    “I don’t get this,” said Felix. “Is this some kind of a test?”
    “No, no. Why, do you have a problem chatting with colleagues?”
    Felix said nothing.
    “Sure we’re from the big Zentrale and all that. But we’re on the same team.You remember provincial headquarters?”
    “Of course,” said Felix.
    “Ah, those were the days, for me too. Soccer, training, the firing range. All that.”
    Felix nodded.
    “But what a day yesterday, no? I don’t remember getting any training for that. Do you?”
    “No. It was bad, all right.”
    Speckbauer nodded sympathetically.
    “Bet you never saw things like that before. Upsetting, no?”
    Felix nodded. He wondered if it was a hint about him puking.
    Speckbauer got up.
    “So tell me, Felix. Are you good on faces?”
    “It’s hard to say. We did the points of comparison training and things of that nature. But it takes practice, I would think. Or experience.”
    “Indeed. And how well you put it.”
    Speckbauer stretched.
    “Okay then,” he said. “Franzi? Exhibit A?”
    Franz made a final few slow dabs at his lips with the napkin.
    “Remember I said that Franzi here is the thinker, Felix? And I am the talker? Franz doesn’t like to talk much. He likes to save his energy. Weird, uh?”
    Felix watched Franzi drink more mineral water. He heard noisy gulps.
    “He is not really the guy in The Matrix , Felix, I must confess.
    It’s a story, a little spielerei we have. The shades are quite necessary.
    Franz and daylight are not compatible. But he is not a vampire. Are you Franzi?”
    Franz shook his head. His baby finger worked at a piece of food lodged in his front teeth. His other hand came up and pushed his sunglasses up off his nose. Felix took in the shiny white skin, the wandering lines that sometimes had pink edges.The eyes were from science fiction, but Franz let the glasses down again.
    “Franz doesn’t cry. I suppose part of his job is to make others cry. But he cannot produce tears, or to be more accurate ‘express’ them. Is ‘express’ a doctor word, Franzi?”
    “I believe it is.”
    “Ah, so