4.2 Spotted in Budapest

There came a faint knock on the door.

“Come in!” Tyler glanced at his watch, six-thirty in the evening. He got everything spread on the bed going through unpacking.

A girl entered, “Szia!” She was of short height, 5’ 2”, slim built and a tight olive skin. A square face and the weight of her big black hair framed the door. She wore a black jacket.

“What is your name?”

“Hajni.”

“I’m Tyler,” he shook hands holding some books in one hand he took from a luggage piece left open on the floor between the bed and the window wall.

She dropped her silver handbag on the bed and removed the black jacket. She wore a mini dress with long sleeves and lace back, high heel shoes and stockings. She got a tight round backside.

“Pay me!” she could speak English.

“How much?”

“Five hundred forints.”

Tyler dropped the books and picked his wallet, took five hundred and passed to the girl, “Easy!” He then turned to stash away the items in the suitcase in a hurry.

In under a second, he caught her standing half naked. She wore a pair of ruffled lace panties in blue and with tiny tits. Her sudden sight made her appear taller. It only took a second for him to look away and now she was about to roll down those panties. He shockingly uttered, “Hang on! What are those?”

“Pantyhose!” cried the girl, “Sasa told me you are American.”

“I get it…I get it! Sit down!” he frowned, “What is the rush, honey! Do you know a lot of Americans?”

“No, I don’t,” she shrugged dropping a hand on her hip, “Magazin!”

“What magazine?”

“Playboy.” She hit back on the bed wadding the fabric in her crotch totally disappointed, “May I smoke?”

“How old are you, Hajnal Gábris?”

“Twenty-six.”

He frowned again, “Go on!” and asked, “Are you free to hang around?”

“Hang around?”

“Yeah, stay with me.”

“How long?”

“Overnight.”

“It will cost you.”

“How much?”

“One thousand forints.”

“Fine, I will give you a grand.”

She lit a long white cigarette with a lighter in her hand and behind those long black curls of hair. Her hair index doubled the body mass. “Pay me!”

“Do you know Jaco Ferre?”

“Who?”

“Ferre Jaco! I heard you were trapped here in the room.”

“Oh yes! Jaco! Why? I don’t know him. I met him in the bar.”

“Tell me what happened?”

“I think you should pay me.”

Tyler repeated passing another two 500 bills.

“A man jumped in from this window. Another man came in through that door. I was in bed. I was scared to death.”

“I know. What were they looking for?”

“Everything. They tied me on the chair.”

“Who is Alexey?”

“Alexey!”

“The man at Hotel Nemzeti.”

“Never heard of him,” she began to pull on her top, “You want to talk about him?”

“Yes, we talk about him. I’ll give you another five hundred.”

“Pay me!”

“After we talk. You saw them. How do they look? Can you describe!”

She looked at the walls, “One man is short, thick, bald, his eyebrows together and he has a gold tooth. The other man is thin, tall, a long face with a scar and a rough short beard. One man is called Vanco and the other one is Miloš.”

“Did the police probe?”

“Yes, but I don’t know anything. I think they are Bulgarian.”

“Bulgarian?”

“Reddish bald man said something in Slavic.”

“What did he say?”

She blushed and didn’t want to give it away.

“Come on! Tell me!”

She phrased it in Slavic.

“What does it mean?”

Hajnal laughed and told him at best she could.

“Are you Bulgarian?” asked Tyler seriously.

And she couldn’t help breaking out in laughter and cackle to the joke, “No, no, no…”

“We’ll find out tonight,” he dropped a 500 on the bed.

“Thank you,” returned the lady, “May I go to the toilet?”

“Of course, I think we need a drink. You’re going to stay here tonight and tomorrow.”

“I will stay, Tyler,” she said pausing at the door, “Anything you say.” She felt that he paid enough.

“What about your job?”

“I can take a break.”

“Well, then come back and find out if this Alexey is at Hotel Nemzeti. You can speak the language.”

“What is his full name?” she returned from the toilet and picked the handset.

“I don’t know. I think he’s Russian. I will give you a hundred forint if you can find out.”

Hajnal dialled the operator and got connected to Hotel Nemzeti. She asked about this guy and Tyler noted down, “Aleksandre Giorgashvili, Room Number 316.”

Hajnal dropped the phone and opened her palm with a sarcastic grin.

“Gosh! You got it! I’m not going to bet again!” he dropped a 100 forint into her hand.

“Thank you, Tyler. You’re so sweet.”