Coimbra

Fandorin nodded, satisfied with the man's answer.

'Tomorrow we shall know the name of Hunter's contact in Coimbra. You will become his shadow for the day. I want to know what his normal day is like. Does he live alone or not? Does he have servants? Observe him carefully: is he a confident man or nervous? Try to glean his character from his everyday behaviour. Also, study the house. I will want to know the easiest way to get in unnoticed'. Fandorin paused as if remembering something. 'And see if during the day he repeats the same movement several times: such as touching a pocket, straightening a sleeve and the like. Above all, remember I do not want him on his guard, it is better you lose him then alert him'. He became silent, waiting for any questions.

"Understood." A task that required careful planning, knowledge of the streets and their connections, understanding of when and how often one can see to the target, what possibilities, intentions and turns they would make in a crowd and means of most careful observation without getting caught.

He nodded:" Sir. How soon into the day shall I be informed of this man? And what shall you be doing during that day?" He wondered to ask about the little details that he was to record, yet decided that they perhaps had a certain amount of importance.

'Hunter shall come at dawn, perhaps even while it's still dark. You will know then. I shall wait for Wellesley's reply to my letter, and then I shall make enquiries of my own'. Fandorin picked up a pencil. 'Hand me the map of Coimbra, will you?'

"Yes, sir." He slipped from his seat and paused at the letter:" I Would suggest it destroyed.. the least that we carry with us, the better." He murmured and then left the table, searching in their personals the right map for use. He had first taken one that pointed to a different region and roads, and had to shuffle among papers till the appropriate map was discovered.

Lying it to the side, he placed the others back into full order and then carried and unfolded the map before Fandorin.

"Here you are sir."

At the mention of letter's destruction, Fandorin looked as if Widmayer's stated something really obvious. 'But, of course, it is to be destroyed', he said taking the map from Widmayer and laying it out on the desk. Standing up he bent over it, marking locations on the map with the pencil. He studied his handiwork for a few moments, then folded the map, putting it into his coat breast. 'Now shall we see if the dinner is ready?'

"Certainly sir." Again he took on the gentle and submissive demanour of one that had lived for no reason but to serve his master. Seeing as Fandoring wore a coat already, he had taken a fair basic one himself. It was of finer material than that of a common man, and yet much less detailed and luxurious than of his company. A proper servant's coat to to a banker that was certainly not poor.

" Sir." He glanced to the letter and nodded meaningfully to it, looking impatient, requesting it taken or burnt before they were to leave.

'Do I have to do everything?', grumbled Fandorin noticing Widmayer's look. Taking the letter he threw it into the empty fireplace and lighting a match, burnt it. Straightening up, he threw a glance over the desk and then walked out, heading for the dining room.

"No.. but it does certainly do to see you do some things at times." He smirked. Quite as swiftly the look regained its servant like feel, and he walked ahead of Fandorin, to open the door for him, and then followed a while alongside the other. "Shall you need my assistance dinning, or may I retreat to the servant's dining hall."

Fandorin's lips twitched at Widmayer's remark.
'No, you may retreat. After all I must do some things myself. Come and find me when you are done'. With that he stepped into the dining room, where the table was already set.

He bowed, now in earshot of the servants, and turned on his heel. Leaving Fandoring to his dinner, which would certainly be a great deal better than that of the servant's table, he turned the halls that would initially lead him into the room where all of the servants would find themselves eating.

There he took a seat inwardly already tinkering with his task for the next day.

Finally free of scrutiny, Fandorin pulled the map out again, checking the marks against a mental list. He did not want to waste time tomorrow and today's impending festivies would make people careless and less observant, which was how he wanted them. He laid the route he would follow mentally and memorised it. Widmayer would not approve of such jaunts being in the position of his guard, but Fandorin was too set in his ways to start changing them now. Putting the map away, he ate with relish.

If he had known of Fandorin's plans, the man would've been met with a stern pair of eyes and a hand that would not permit him to leave without a guard at his side. Thus though, he was as ignorant of his 'master's ' plans as he was displeased with the food served to him.

Sitting and eating he didn't mingle with the other men and women at the table, listening to their squabble of words.

Having eaten his fill, Erast rang the bell for a servant to clean up. Getting up he poured himself a little madeira and lit a small cigar. Thus he waited for Widmayer.

He entered with quick steps, and halted before Fandorin bowing smartly. He looked to the table, where the cuttlery was last removed, while the rest of the dishes were already carried below to be washed. He nodded and waited for the man to take lead, standing at the door which was kept open.

Letting out a stream of fragrant smoke, Fandorin spoke.

'You said you have unfinished business, yes? Perhaps, you should attend to it We have an early and a tiring day tomorrow'. Transferring his gaze from Widmayer to the window, he observed with satisfaction that the sun has set completely and it was starting to get dark.

He nodded, and took the steps closer till he was standing before Erast, close enough that his words could be whispered. And so he had done, standing blandly before the man."..Am I to bring you something, upon my return, sir?" He did not wish to attempt to speak in the same tongue and play it with poor bout of grammar just yet.

"Else I shall be departing now." No time to spare now that the darkness fell. Especially if his alertness was needed at fullest tomorrow.

Erast looked at Widmayer, the puplis and irises of his eyes no longer distinguishable from each other. 'Just the information on the last two agents. And make a note of the taverns closest to their residences, will you?'

Catching himself close to saluting the man, Josef nodded instead. "Yes, sir. I bid you good evening then..." He took a step back. "I shall return as soon as time allows me." And then he bowed and turned, heading for the door and exit.

Fandorin waited for the man to leave the house, then walked upstairs. He opened the wardrobe and took out Professor Botero's old university robed: another teacher on the streets of a university town, would could be less noticeable. The camouflage was not essential, but Fandorin did not want to stand out in any way. Waiting for a few minutes, in order to give Widmayer time to move away from the house, he left too and entering the Botanical Gardens, crossed them to the other side and came out close to the north bank of Mondego. Walking along the river bank he made way to his first destination.

Coimbra was not a big town, and as the populace flowed steadily to the side from which they expected Welllesley to arrive the rest of the streets were emptied. He scouted the taverns closesest to the residences of the agents, whose identities they established. He left the anfrancesado's place near Santa Clara-a-Nova for the last. The area was much less developed with green stretches getting bigger and bigger as he moved away from the south bank. On the way back he met a red-coated officer who was speedily moving away from the monastery followed by the distant singing and music of nuns. Fandorin shook his head at that.

He walked back through the Botanical gardens again, pausing to look at the fireworks. He now knew which tavern was frequented by which agent and also picked up a little gossip concerning them from the tavern owners who were only too glad to speak to someone, seeing as that their establishments were more or less deserted.

Reaching the doors of Botero's house, he shrugged out of the robe, folding it over his hand and stepped into the dim hall.

The hall seemed deserted, most servants must've left or gone to sleep. The rooms , those that were given to the two guests, were also most empty and quiet, not a single light of flame flickering to cast shadows about the corners and and turns of the Botero's humble abode.

There was but a dark shadow that stood in the office where the two men had in the hours of early evening conversed of the information they gathered, and letters that they've needed to burn. And the very same silhuette had been waiting.

Erast paused, hearing scuffling sounds from the study. He dropped the robe on the floor and moved swiftly to the room, drawing out the thin blade from his cane.

The silhuette seemed to freeze and listened. Then slowly it began to make its way to the wall furthest from the window and to the fireplace, his shadow in stark contrast for a moment as the sky was lit by a crack of light, and then darkness, blacker than before.

Erast stepped into the study cautiously, the blade by his side. He could sense rather than see the presence of another, and he knew that the presence was not legitimate. His eyes were drawn to the darkest shadow in the room, knowing that the man was there.
'Now, now, and what have we here?', he spoke, his body tensing up for a fight.

The dark figure tensed and then straightened. "...Where have you been?..." It said stiffly with the most familiar voice. It leaned down again and picked a match, for which it was searching and as the first light was lit it illuminated the man's features.

Fandorin swore and lowered the blade.
'Quit adding white to my hair', he growled. 'A stroll around the city', he added by way of explanation.