Two fellows in surprisingly well-cut dark suits are having a lively talk not far from my table in the crowded Bulldog Pub. It is only morning, but not a table is free. Looking like hard-boiled lawyers, they seem to know each other rather well. Every now and then, their padded shoulders meet for another important point. In their mid-forties, they must have discussed deals of all sorts many times already. Used to crowded places, they are covering their mouths when it is their turn to talk. In the Croatian capital, walls have eyes, too.