Scene 4

«Maxi-M is quite sour», Marie warned Maille, pointing to the upholstered door that led into the room of the chief of the «department», as the Lemusan Secret Service was called by its employees. «When he seeks you out, he expects a somewhat quicker reaction and not a phone call only the following day. But the lady was definitely more important, right or not?» she added stingingly. Maille wanted to clarify the situation right then and there, set the record straight for all time, but at that very moment there was a noise coming trough the interphone.

Maxi-M was the nickname of the boss, whose real name was Maximilien Mercier. «For what purpose, Mr Maille, have we provided you with a mobile phone? So that you can nurture your harem with it?» barked the chief. He had obviously had an interlocution with Marie. Maille murmured a feeble excuse, feeling rather sheepish. Usually Mercier was less grimly direct. He led the department with a fine feel for the weaknesses and failings of his opponents and could send them packing without ado. He was an autocrat who tempered his leadership style with irony, an egotistic Alpha animal that wanted all official matters – of course, spiced with humour – to be served as easily digested portions.

Maille hated everything about the chief: his excessively darkly coloured hair, a reference to the Beatles, his small spectacles that made him look like Schubert composing the Trout-quintet, his jokes, his mouth spray with which he shot peppermint into his gaping gob, the folds of his forehead, his tactics, and the manner in which he used to touch his throat with two fingers. Maille also hated his office with its militarily aligned bric-a-brac. Mentally, he spat on the dark carpets on the walls – souvenirs of Mercier’s time as a secret agent in the Far East.

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