Yushenko clucked his tongue as he stared at the screen of his laptop, scanning the news. A headline read: "Andras Szabo Still on Life Support." The article contained little information, not even mentioning the specific intersection or that it had occurred right outside of the Golden Dunes. Perfect. He did not like any mention that was bad for business. The injuries were also not as bad as the newspapers claimed. Andras Szabo was fully conscious and had sustained only a few bruised ribs and maybe a hairline fracture. Nevertheless, he would not be fit for the game.
That suited Yushenko just fine. Inviting the Crown Australian Champion had been a necessary lure to bring in a certain class of poker player. He had never really wanted the man to play. The timing of this accident was very convenient for him. He turned his head up and around to face his assistant, a silhouette against the dazzling sunlight flooding in through the window behind him. "What terrible timing. Such a pity. I had been looking forward to challenge and now he is out of game. Tell me, who is next on waiting list?"
His assistant swiped the surface of his tablet and held it down for him to read. Yushenko frowned. He needed a particular kind of player for this particular game. One who was good, but not too good. Rich, but not rich enough to cause trouble for him later on. Someone he could control, who would do his bidding, and stupid enough to risk losing ten million dollars against a player who never lost.
Yushenko trailed his finger down the screen, dismissing each name in his head, until he found the one on his shortlist he'd considered before Szabo's unfortunate accident. Herr Burkhard had recommended him. Perfect. Handing the tablet back to his assistant he said, "Call him."
In a spacious office adjoining his suite two floors below, Le Bon stared up from his laptop screen. He had been reading the same article as Yushenko. He was also privy to the extent of Andras Szabo's injuries, but his subordinate was not. At the sound of approaching footsteps he closed up the brief. He'd only had a chance to scan it so far. He'd read it more thoroughly later. Matins had just entered from her own suite and was leaning against the door frame. The expression on her face was even sterner than normal.
He gave her a nod. "Surely you wouldn't expect any less from him."
"I can't believe you're not in the least bit concerned."
"Why should I be?"
"The star of the tournament was almost murdered right outside of the casino entrance!"
"They'll find a replacement, surely."
She whirled around and went back into her room, slamming the door behind her. Le Bon closed his laptop and returned to the bedroom. He eyed the pretty young brunette woman, still lying half-asleep in the middle of his massive bed. At her confused expression he said, "Nothing personal," and resumed kissing her.