Beware the Jabberwock

Начало книги

Few lights glowed in the long dining room, giving it a subdued look similar to that on the face of the sullen restaurateur who stood beside the elegant table. Dark shadows reflected in the large, gilt-framed mirrors that lined one wall. Shattering the austere silence, a chilling rain raked the peaked roof with a blustery tirade. All in all, it struck Otto Bergen as anything but a promising afternoon.

Two imposing young men with chiseled looks watched him through dispassionate eyes, like medical students in a surgical theatre. Otto fussed about the table with nervous movements, unhappy at the tension and at being unable to do what he did best, prepare exotic dishes. In his starched white chef's hat, the plump little man resembled an Austrian version of the Pillsbury Doughboy. He brought in a large bowl of fluffy white whipped cream and a tall container of hot coffee, which he placed on a grid above a stubby candle. Its flame swayed with the sensuous rhythm of a belly dancer.

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