“His eyes looked angry. His thin gray hair was unruly. “As we discussed,” said Mark to his cab driver. Mark stepped out of the cab and bumped into the engineer, as though he hadn’t been watching where he was going. As he did so, he said, “Check your bank account.” “What?” “I made a deposit today. It should cover the cost of the damages.” “Who are you?” “A friend.” Mark walked back to the cab, leaving the engineer standing in front of his building, staring at Mark, a confused expression on his fa...ce. As the cab driver pulled away, he handed a camera back to Mark. “Where to, sir?” Mark slipped him a hundred dollar bill. “End of the street is fine.” Mark bought a Turkish coffee and loitered in the park opposite the engineer’s apartment, eyeing the people going in and out. After a half hour—more than enough time, he figured, for the engineer to have checked his bank balance—he got up off his bench, intending to go have a chat with the man. But as he was crossing the street, a guy in a Bazarduzu Construction truck pulled up.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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