Debutant. Chapter 1. Part One

Previously we described the Grand Prix of recent years in the off-season, in 2014 we talked about all Ferrari racing cars. During the 26 years of the site’s existence (how time flies), we’ve written about almost every Formula 1 race – and for the second year we’re publishing a novel with a sequel.

This is the work of our respected reader Nikita Savelyev from Yekaterinburg, who writes easily and interestingly on topics that concern us all. Last year we published his novel ‘The Favorite’ and today we present to your attention a new book, ‘The Debutant’. All events are fictional; there is no need to look for intersections with historical events.

Author of the cover: Alexandra Ivanitskaya

Chapter 1. An offer you can’t refuse. Part One

If Henry had had the gift of foresight or, at worst, developed intuition, he would have disappeared from the garage in advance under any pretext. But, unfortunately, nature did not grant him such a thing, and he continued to serenely move the brush along the shiny fender of the car, without even suspecting the clouds that were gathering above his head.

The car urgently needs to be prepared tomorrow morning in order to present it as best as possible to potential buyers. Yes, so that there is no longer any doubt about her impeccable past. You see, sir, the previous owner just wanted to update the iron horse. And how this horse made several somersaults and landed straight into a shallow swamp, almost killing its owner, can be tactfully concealed. Please look, the body is glittering. And how much we had to tinker to get this paint to stay behind the scenes without leaving a trail of cold, smelly water and dents.

The director of the car service, Mr. Jenkis, entered quietly and coughed with unusual delicacy to attract attention. If an unknown sixth sense had now manifested, Henry would have managed to hit his finger with a wrench and be temporarily incapacitated. But instinct remained treacherously silent. As indeed in that last, fatal race for him.

“Please stop, Henry,” Mr. Jenkins asked with unusual politeness. – They came to you.

Henry stood up from his knees, mechanically wiped his hands on his loose pants, and looked at the man who came after the boss. Finally something alarming stirred in my soul, but it was too late. It’s not a good idea to jump out of the window, especially because it looked like a loophole. Only a cat can squeeze through that.

A dark-skinned man in a snow-white suit and a lemon-colored shirt unbuttoned to the navel was named Manuel. Simply, without a surname. Henry never even heard her. But this surname should be well known to gentlemen in blue uniforms, with shining stars on their chests and service weapons on their belts. From reports and other reports.

After the short Manuel stood his silent assistant with the beautiful name Osvaldo. This is where the beauty ends. Henry once saw an old, old movie about a monster in human form created by a mad scientist. Osvaldo was able to successfully participate in the casting. For the role of a monster, of course.

– Let’s go outside, Henry. “A few words,” Manuel invited.

Henry followed obediently, as a sheep follows a shepherd. The last thing in the world he wanted to have intimate conversations with Manuel. The same Mr. Jenkins, given the difficult aspects that are inevitable in such a difficult industry as used car sales, remained generally a conscientious dealer. As for Manuel, he was flying somewhere higher, and the police probably have more serious questions for him.

Coming out of the darkness, Henry narrowed his eyes and looked around the large parking lot where cars were waiting in line for pre-sale preparation: the bright pink limousine stood out among its inconspicuous fellows, like a movie star in a pub. For some reason Manuel and his comrades preferred bold colors – I wonder if this is their distinguishing mark? It’s strange when such representative gentlemen have no taste.

Manuel casually tossed a fat chocolate cigar into his mouth and bit it with his gold teeth. Henry politely declined the treat and stoically inhaled the fragrant smoke.

“Amigo, I won’t go around in circles, time is precious,” Manuel began happily. – I have a small part-time job.

– Fix the car? – Henry asked in a naive tone. – This is how we always do…

“You’re a joker,” Manuel said without a smile. – FYI: I don’t fix cars, I just buy new ones.

– What then? “There’s nothing else I can do,” Henry replied meekly.

“Don’t be modest,” Manuel patted him on the shoulder. “I want you to go somewhere.” Boy, you’re fast.

At Jenkins’ request, Henry even rode with Manuel’s men to their strange business a few times. Nothing special. And admittedly, they paid well. But every time after such trips there was a disgusting feeling in my stomach and on my hands, from the handshakes of smiling dark-haired people with cold eyes, there was a feeling that an invisible, unpleasant layer remained on my hands.

“There’s so much work in the garage we can’t breathe,” Henry shrugged.

“I think I’ll settle the matter with my good friend Jenkins.” So, Henry,” irritation burst through Manuel’s unctuous voice. “I’ll pay well, and you’ll go at your own pace from our glorious Miami to a hole in Highlands County, a thousand miles away.” We need to deliver one package for local partners.

And of course no one else would be suitable for such an honorable mission,” Henry swallowed the question quietly on the tip of his tongue.

“If you pay,” muttered the unhappy mechanic.

– On it’s own! “An amount containing three zeros,” Manuel replied with feigned cordiality.

– Yes, for that kind of money! – Henry admired.

This is… this is how much you can do… The joyful anticipation of a big jackpot completely pushed anxious thoughts out of my mind.

== To be continued…