by Celia Hayes
«You don’t have time. You’re having dinner with Matthew Cosgrove. I don’t think he’ll accept “he doesn’t open up easily” as an answer,» Doc warned me.
«With whom?» I realised that whatever was happening around me was no longer under my control. And I couldn’t stop it. «Who the Hell are you talking about? Cosgrove? I have no clue who he is,» I started screaming.
Doc rubbed at his face. He had no use for me if I was beside myself with anger.
In the end he had to surrender.
«Let’s put it like this for now, he’s in the employ of S.M.T.,» he explained, trying to pacify me, but he refused to say more. I was convinced at once that he was not actually allowed to say. I suspected he’d been threatened. Who knew… Perhaps they’d only told him to keep quiet, but he was still trying to calm me down with that look in his eyes that said: it’s all right, you can trust me. I immediately thought of the police.
«In the employ of… S.M.T.?» I laughed. If anything like S.M.T. had existed, I would have known a long time ago.
«That. Transport of goods, deliveries. That kind of thing. Cosgrove is their consultant. He’s waiting for you at Le Violet at nine, and he can’t wait to tell you about their unmissable offers. You represent the Sunset, don’t forget it,» emphasised Doc, and I was fully convinced: the police was involved. He’d set me up for a blind date with a detective and an interrogation room lamp. Thank you so much, Doc.
«I’m not going,» I refused. It was clear I didn’t want to hear anything of it.
Doc blocked me in my tracks. He wouldn’t let me leave his office before being sure that I would have dinner with Mr Cosgrove that night. He’d promised him he would persuade me.
«You can’t, Madison».
But Doc had never asked me what I thought.
«No, you can’t. Who in the Hell is Matthew Cosgrove, really? And what does he want from me?» I raised my voice.
Doc got rather nervous, started looking around. He didn’t like that situation and he didn’t want to discuss it in his office, there were too many people walking around. But I expected an answer. Without one, he wouldn’t have got me to Le Violet.
In the end he gave up. «I’m being pressured,» he confessed, in a whisper. His eyes were bulging.
«Pressured? What do you mean?»
He didn’t even know himself where to begin. There were too many things he couldn’t mention. He came closer, pointed a finger at me. «You think… You really think you left the casino on the Queen Elizabeth without anyone noticing?»
«What?» I glared at him.
Doc took a deep breath. A very long breath.
«Madison, I don’t think you’ve realised yet how things are. You’re the only one...» He shook his head, because he couldn’t believe himself what he was about to tell me. «Believe me, Madison, I don’t have the slightest clue of why it’s happened to you, but you’re the only one who can get close to him».
«Are you talking about Nolan?»
He didn’t even nod. It was that clear. «All eyes in town are on the Sunset right now. You didn’t notice, but you’re in the spotlight. That spotlight is aimed right at you, and it’s huge». He was gesturing wildly. I kept listening, eyes wide open. «Every step you take, every word you speak – remember that because it’s so bloody important, Madison – from now on everyone will know. Television, radio, politicians, the police».
«I’m being followed?»
«I’m only trying to keep you out of trouble». He lost his patience. Spread his arms.
I didn’t accept it.
«You’re putting me in trouble,» I reminded him, but Doc forced me to face reality.
«You’ve put yourself in trouble, when you got in his car».
«I didn’t even know who he was».
«Well, do some research next time».
Good advice!
If I’d thought about it better, I would not have said yes to Chris Walk in the back of a van when I was fifteen. If I’d thought about it better, I would never have ended up at the Sunset. And maybe now my life would be different. Or better, I would have a life.
If I’d thought better, I wouldn’t be me. So it was completely useless to tell me: next time do some research. Because he was talking to me, and I didn’t do research.
«What am I risking?», I asked.
I remember it was raining that day. And I was freezing cold. Doc kept his voice low. The door to the office was shut, he was holding it with his hand.
«Police, FBI, District Attorney. They’re all against you».
«It makes no sense...» It felt like a nightmare. I stared into the void, couldn’t believe it.
Doc rested his head against the door. No, it hadn’t been a great idea to get in that car.
«They’re going to take you out, Madison. And if they don’t, sooner or later he will. And if none of them does it, I’ll have to get rid of you myself, but I don’t want to. I need you in there,» he assured me, without being sentimental.
I’d rather have it like that. It was better that I was useful to him, rather than only staying because he felt sorry for kicking me out in the street. But I still owed him.
«What do you have about him?,» he asked.
«Nothing, I’ve told you». I shook my head, confused. That early in the morning I wouldn’t have been able to do better even if I’d in fact had a whole dossier about Nolan Carter, and I didn’t.
«I’m giving you three days. I want that piece by Saturday. We’ll publish it under someone else’s name. I’m not going to throw you to the sharks, Madison,» he assured me. «But I do want that piece. You have to destroy him. You have to take him out».
He was serious, he wanted me to have no doubts, to take it seriously. Instead, I burst out laughing.
«The whole city is at war against one businessman?»
It felt too much, even with someone like Nolan Carter.
«No, he’s at war against the whole city,» Doc replied. He was as tired as I was of that whole matter. He peeked outside. The glistening bay spread out before his eyes, with its shadows, its highlights, it lights. All of it. «You can’t see them, but there are two guns pointed at each other». He turned, looked at me, thoughtful. «And I have the only bullet».
«So what do I do?»
«Shoot».
*
I left Doc’s office. No one seemed to have noticed I was gone.
There were people tidying up their desks, turning on their computers, or answering the phones between one task and another.
Overall, there was a lot of work to do, but I didn’t think I’d noticed anything different from usual.
Perhaps I didn’t notice, and I really had a spotlight pointed at me.
Or Doc was going nuts.
I went back to my office, musing on what had transpired between us without been able to decide which of the two, me or him, was right. In my office, too, everything was normal. My notes were placed on top of a folder, my notebook was open at the front of the desk.
I lowered the laptop bag on the desk and persuaded myself that Doc was going too far. I supposed he was in a panic because an overzealous cop, perhaps going after a promotion, was paying him attention. Then my phone rang. I checked it.
Had an interesting meeting?
I’d got a text from an unknown number.
«Nolan...» I murmured.
It could only be him.
I had not given him my number, but he had that beer mat on which I’d written it.
What I couldn’t figure out was how could he know I’d just come out of a meeting. What did Nolan know of what went on in the Sunset offices?
I knew the answer, but I didn’t like it. It was likely, of course just a suggestion but likely, that Nolan Carter had an informer. Peering eyes working for him without being noticed.
Or it was just his contacts, people that owed him a favour, whom he could ask, off chance: hey, do you perhaps know what Madison Hill is doing?
In which c
ase I owed Doc an apology, because he wasn’t being paranoid, it was me being stupid.
I decided to make sure. I couldn’t go on like that, at least I would have known that I was under surveillance. All right, I could live with it, but I needed to know.
«Hey, Madison...»
«Wait, later».
I went back to the corridor, going through the proofreaders’ stations, and those of the reporters who were still in the office. I took a better look at them this time, and I started realising. They kept turning their heads if I came close to them. They lowered their eyes if I stared at them.
My phone rang again, managed to distract me.
“Busy?”
It was him again, Nolan.
He was having fun. Me, not at all.
“I need to write a piece for Saturday,” I typed quickly.
I sent it.
“On what?”
He answered almost immediately.
“I haven’t decided yet”.
“Let’s have dinner together tonight”.
He changed the subject.
“I can’t tonight,” I replied.
For a few moments nothing happened, and I thought he wouldn’t write again.
And yet…
“I’ll pick you up at nine”.
The message reached me right when I’d reached my office. Outside, the sky had broken out in a storm. It threatened the harbour, made the sea choppy. Helicopters bobbed among the skyscrapers. They might suspend flights soon.
I thought it curious. A storm shaking the city felt like an illustration of my last few days. An exotic landscape devastated by an unexpected cataclysm.
Leaning against a metal bookcase, I picked up the phone.
A moment later I typed: “I didn’t say yes”.
“But you thought it”.
I wanted to bite back, but Paula came back in. Paula worked for me on Gossip – Bake Up. We shared an office, a printer, and the snacks from the dispenser.
«Oh, Madison. I didn’t know if you were done back there». He poked her head in from the corridor, and smiled at me. «I got a call from a certain...» She had to retrieve the note on which she’d jotted it out. «Matthew Cosgrove,» she read.
«Cosgrove,» I corrected her.
«Oh, right...» She realised the mistake, but it didn’t really matter. I knew who she was talking about, and that was enough. «He wanted you to confirm tonight’s appointment, what do I tell him?»
I looked at my phone again.
I’d really thought of saying yes to that dinner date. It was something that had been happening to me a lot in the past few days. Saying yes, without thinking. There was no real reason. It just… happened. Like an incident might happen, an inconvenient, or a storm. But the meeting between and Nolan was not destiny’s doing, it was just sex, and I couldn’t throw my life away for a night with a stranger, even though he was the richest man in town. Even though all he had to do was snap his fingers and I’d be kicked out of the Sunset.
He could have everyone, me included. With me, however, Nolan Carter had made a mistake. He’d given me a way out, believing I wouldn’t take it. Well, he was wrong. I would likely keep thinking about him but, even if the price was being sleepless for all nights from then to eternity, I still put my phone back in my pocket.
«Tell him I’m going».
I agreed to the meeting with Cosgrove. And told Nolan to stop.
Six
Le Violet was not one of those restaurants where you’d easily find me. The fare wasn’t bad, but there was nothing on offer that was worth spending two hundred dollars for a steak. They tried to pass it off as an exclusive venue, but really it was a place for tourists too dazed by the silverware and the waiters’ tuxedoes. Prices were high, the service standoffish, I didn’t know the name of a single client.
Nevertheless, my taxi stopped by the door at nine. Just the time to pay and I was queueing to get in.
«I’m Madison Hill,» I informed a waiter, «I have an appointment with Matthew Cosgrove».
I’d chosen a night-blue longuette, matched with a backless top and a cream-coloured scarf that evening. My hair was tied up, a gold pendant fell on my breast.
«Mr Cosgrove is here already. Please follow me».
They took me inside. Our table faced a road dimly lit by the window, hidden by a cream-coloured curtain.
The sensation I had was of being plunged in a claustrophobic environment, smelling of damp and of buffet vegetables, filled with the clinking of the cutlery and with background music.
Matthew was on his second drink already when I finally joined him. When he saw me, he stood up to great me.
«Madison...»
«Matthew Cosgrove, of S.M.T.?»
I offered him a hand, and he shook it.
«Yes, that’s me».
His eyes were sharp, and he had a self-confidence typical for a serviceman. I don’t think he was yet in his forties, and if I hadn’t known before, I’ll admit I would never have guessed that he was a policeman.
«But… please, get comfortable». He pulled a chair to offer me a seat. «I need to thank you for accepting at such a short notice».
I found him pointlessly polite. Ours was not a casual meeting.
«I hope I’m not late,» I apologised, as they took his glass away and brought us menus.
Matthew went back to his place. He was wearing a dark suit that felt mediocre to me, just as our unusual meeting place was mediocre. «Doesn’t matter,» he promised.
«Really?»
From his relaxed position, elbows resting on the edge of the table and fingertips sliding over his mouth, the agent smiled at me. That was how it was, he ordered, I followed. After all, he was the law. I was a simple citizen, with some unsavoury friendships.
«Really,» he guaranteed.
I looked at that night’s guests. Without wanting to, I thought back at Doc’s words. Whatever I did, from now on, they would know. Who was he talking about? People who mattered, or everyone else?
They were questions I shouldn’t ask myself. Who had Madison Hill become? Knowing wouldn’t help me withstand that informal interrogation.
In spite of myself, I got nervous. When I grabbed one of the two menus, I wasn’t even looking at what I was doing with my hands.
«Oh...» I bumped in a wine glass, which rolled off the table, hitting a guest that was coming back from the bathroom. I stared at the woman, mortified, expecting her to shout at me. Instead she pretended not to notice and went straight on her way, her suit jacket stained.
I thought to myself that her reaction was unusual, but in truth it wasn’t. It was all too simple to explain. The city was coming alive. It was taking shape, shedding its skin. And I, sitting as I was at a table with an officer in civilian clothes, was no longer a casual inconvenience, but a worrying encounter. It was not by chance at all; that woman had run away.
«I’m sorry,» I told Matthew. «I’m unusually awkward tonight».
He shook his head to reassure me.
«It’s nothing».
He called one of the waiters over.
It was interesting, looking at him. He seemed perfectly all ease, prepared for anything. He took the matter in hand nonchalantly.
«Can you have this cleaned up, please? Thanks. It was an incident. Oh.. could you bring us two glasses of Clos du Marquis?»
He ordered drinks while he was at it, and while the waiters replaced the serviettes Matthew Cosgrove started studying me.
«You don’t like my dress?,» I provoked him.
«You’re gorgeous,» he assured me.
«Is that why you invited me?»
«It’s an interesting town, don’t you think?» He changed his strategy, suddenly charmed with the tablecloths, the chandeliers, the restaurant’s clientèle. He looked at them admiringly as he spoke. «It has many layers to its life, you can choose where to stop. If you’re staying on the surface, or going further down, where the true nature of people is hidden».
«Which one did you choose?» I pried.
He didn’t say. Two glasses of wine arrived from the cellar. He took a taste of his, like he was used to the taste.
I could barely repress a laugh. «Are you all this mysterious, at S.M.T.?»
I’d hit the mark.
There was a glimmer in his eyes, but Matthew didn’t change his attitude. His reactions were thoroughly studied, he was careful what he said, and especially what he didn’t admit.
«We care about privacy,» he pointed out, then started to bump the corner of his lighter on the table, lost in thoughts I was not aware of. At last, he looked me in the eye. «I like you very much, Madison. You’re a clever woman». He admitted it as if it was a compliment. I could hear the threat in the background.
«Not always, it seems». I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing I was tense, so I tried the wine too. I found it too strong, and let it go.
«Why do you say that?» asked agent Cosgrove.
«I made a wrong choice, at least once».
I thought about my car drive with Nolan. That’s how the whole story had begun. Matthew guessed who I was talking about immediately.
«We all make mistakes at some point, but we’re always given a chance to make it right». He was making his offer. He was putting my old life in front of me, giving it back without too much expectation.
«We live in a great country,» I whispered, with a hint of sarcasm.
«I believe that’s the case». He raised my glass, which was still full. He offered it to me, hoping I would take it this time. «He’s not a good person, Madison,» he tried to warn me. He was still talking about Nolan.
«What, and you are?» I took the glass, but not the advice.
«I work for the good guys,» he reminded me, and even though he didn’t say, I still heard the rest: “and Nolan doesn’t”.
«A delivery company?»
Matthew pressed his lips together. «S.M.T. has many different interests».
«And what do you do?» I had fun teasing him a little. «Wrap up parcels? Put ribbons on?»
«I’m the one that opens the box, checks what’s inside, and if by misfortune I find a faulty piece, I make sure it ends up locked up for the rest of its days,» he corrected me.
