to the older, if not a servant, a term no longer used these days. Let’s not call what he’s receiving “orders,” but instructions or suggestions. They’re dressed conservatively like any executive or businessman seated at the other tables. They’re eating delicious halibut with spinach, mascarpone, and slices of Parma ham, an exception to the rule that one eats little and poorly in exclusive restaurants. They’re drinking a Pinot Noir, Kaimira, 1998, chosen by the member without consulting his guest. They’re courteous, since they aren’t given to excess or speculation. The word “exception” is not part of their vocabulary. Everything is what it is, here and now, always.
“I haven’t had the opportunity to ask you how the investigation in the United States is going,” the older one asked.
“It’s been filed in the archives, of course. Natural causes.”
“Perfect. May I deduce that no trace of evidence was left at the location?” The older man revealed his calculating mind. He’s not given to imponderables or last-minute surprises.
“Complete security. I collected everything before the authorities arrived. His age also helped to close the case rapidly,” the younger man explained in a cold, professional tone.
“Perfect.”
They continued eating in silence. Anyone noticing the tone of the conversation wouldn’t characterize it as an interrogation, at least at this stage, although this wasn’t a friendly dinner, either, but a meeting with an agenda planned by the older one. Both ate slowly, taking small forkfuls and pausing to chew without hurry.
“The second part of the plan begins immediately,” the older man began. “It’s going to be more and more demanding. There can be no mistakes.”
“There won’t be,” the younger man, quite confident, assured him.
“How’s the team?”
“Already in place for several weeks, as you directed. All the subjects are under constant surveillance, except one.”
“Good, very good.” He would’ve rubbed his hands with pleasure if he were a man given to expressing himself with gestures. He guarded his emotions and never shared them. “And in London?”
“Our man has privileged access to the subject,” the younger one explained. “As soon as I give the okay, the way is open.”
“These are the hardest parts of the plan to implement. London and JC,” the man with his back to the dining room said firmly.
“Hasn’t he shown his face yet?” the younger man wanted to know.
“No, he’s an old fox, like me. But we have to make him appear; otherwise the plan is compromised.”
“We’ll make him appear. London will bring him out.”
“Yes. As soon as he emerges, don’t think, act. If you give yourself the luxury of thinking, even for only a second, by the time you’re ready to move, he’ll have already won.”
The young man couldn’t imagine such a situation. He was prepared for everything. The idea that they were up against such fast-thinking people seemed unlikely to him. Besides, we’re talking about an old man more than seventy years old. What danger could he represent? He didn’t reveal such thoughts to the old man seated at the table, or rather, his table.
“I know what you’re thinking,” the old man warned. “All humans have weaknesses. Mine is the Church, yours is self-confidence. It’s a flaw. Take your ego out of the equation. That’s the only way to guarantee you won’t fail.”
“I will.”
“You must. If things don’t work out, you won’t be the one looking at their corpses. In London, honestly, it won’t be easy.”
“I have a very efficient man there who’ll clear the way for me to do my work.”
“Let me clarify something before we continue. At the moment I have no reason to criticize or censure your work. One hundred percent efficient, but you haven’t yet dealt with what you’ll have to contend with this time.”
“The plan is practically infallible,” the young man dared to answer back.
“There’s no such thing,” the other argued. “You have a plan where everything has to come together precisely and you can’t make a mistake. Infallible? Not even the pope.”
“Of course, but—”
“To finish my point,” he interrupted, “just a little warning.” He waited for the young man to look him in the eye, holding his complete attention. “JC is the man who murdered John Paul the First in 1978, and, even so, he was unable to kill the pope in London. He, too, had never failed.”
The young man took in his words and thought about them for a few moments. The old man was right. Overconfidence was the enemy of avoiding mistakes. That was the message the other man wanted him to get.