Read Online Beloved Enemy by Eric Van Lustbader - Free Book Online Page B

good to see you again! I only wish we knew you were coming. I would have prepared.”
    The smile she returned was tinged with both fondness and regret.
    “And how is Illyusha? I miss our chess matches.”
    “You’re the only one who ever called my grandfather Illyusha.”
    Dr. Karalian’s smile flickered uncertainly. “What do you mean ‘called’?”
    Annika pushed stray wisps of hair off the side of her face. “I’m sorry, doctor. My grandfather is dead.”
    The effect on Dr. Karalian was extraordinary. He rocked back on his heels, as if she had struck him a physical blow, and his face grew white. “Oh, but, my dear, I am so sorry.” He stepped forward to embrace her. “Illyusha was such an extraordinary man. As you know, I considered him a good friend as well as an important benefactor to this clinic. What a loss. Truly incalculable.”
    Annika waited some moments for the doctor to gather himself. “Are you all right?”
    Dr. Karalian cleared his throat of emotion. Even so, his voice was slow in returning to normal. “Would you be so kind as to accompany me to my office.”
    Without another word being exchanged, she followed him out of the lobby down the central corridor, smelling of antiseptic, then along a somewhat narrower corridor to their left, at the end of which was Dr. Karalian’s office. It was the doctor’s habit to invite her to tea at the end of her visits, when they would spend a companionable hour or so absorbing her take on the latest world events, which he obviously valued.
    Dr. Karalian’s office was warm, intimate, full of personal items and trinkets from patients he had treated, as well as mementoes from his childhood in Armenia and travels as a young man throughout North Africa. The space had the appearance of a study in his home. Only the daunting phalanx of thick tomes on psychiatric and physical medicine that filled the shelves on the wall behind his desk gave evidence that this was a professional rather than a private room.
    At his sweeping gesture, Annika sat in an armchair upholstered in a Turkish-patterned fabric while he settled himself behind his desk. To her right, a window looked out on the sun-slashed preserve and the rugged base of the mountain. To her left was an elaborate chess set, resting on a small, round marquetry table.
    “Tell me,” he said. “How are you doing?”
    “As well as can be expected.”
    “If I may ask, how did Illyusha pass?’
    “A hit-and-run. In Rome.”
    “How awful, but…” Dr. Karalian rocked back in his chair, his fingertips steepled.
    Annika’s finely tuned antennae gave an internal shiver. “But what?”
    Dr. Karalian sat forward abruptly. “Well, it’s just that Illyusha was always such a careful man. It’s difficult for me to believe that he’d be the victim of a hit-and-run.”
    Of course he was correct. Knowing she had to end this line of speculation, Annika said quickly, “Have you ever been to Rome, doctor?”
    “I can’t say I have, no.”
    “Then you have no idea of the traffic there, nor the speeds the drivers reach even in the center of the city.”
    Dr. Karalian’s gaze turned inward. “So. All things must pass.” He gestured to his right. “I will miss him. He was a formidable opponent. I’ve never encountered a mind like his. We’re all the poorer for his passing.” He sighed deeply. “You know, when he came here, we played chess, certainly, but we spoke of my wife and children. He was very fond of them.”
    Annika captured Karalian’s doleful gaze, brought it back to the present. “Did he ever talk about Rolan?”
    “Naturally. He loved that boy. He often said he had been the best thing to ever happen to you.”
    “And the worst.”
    Dr. Karalian gave a grave nod. “As fate would have it.”
    She nodded. “Would you like me to leave you alone?”
    “Thank you, but no.” He smiled in that wistful way people have when they recall happier times.
    Out of respect, Annika waited some time before she