by Samson Weld
“Fantastic,” the assistant manager said earnestly.
Nick leaned forward to create a sense of intimacy between them. Henri also approached, concerned.
“Listen Henri, how good of a customer am I?”
“Excuse me?”
“If you consider all your regular clients, the money spent here, the frequency of my visits, the fact that there’s never been a complaint about me, how good of a customer am I?”
“On a scale from one to ten?”
“Sure,” Nick replied, amused.
“I’d say… eight.”
“Really? Just eight?”
“There’s a local CEO who books the presidential suite once a week. He’s a ten.”
Nick had to chuckle at that. “Do tens have special privileges?”
“It happens.”
“I thought so.”
Nick glanced left and right to make sure they weren’t being watched and at the same time he fished out his money roll. He discreetly peeled off a hundred-dollar bill and slid it across the counter to Henri.
“Does that make me a ten?”
“Absolutely,” the older man replied cheerfully as he put the money away.
“Great. I was hoping that one of the privileges of being a ten would be to have access to your security tapes.”
At that, Henri exhaled loudly. “Oh, I don’t know about that. The hotel has strict regulations.”
“Look, I don’t want to steal the tapes or erase them. My buddy and I started arguing last night that I came back to the hotel at nine, but I say I was here at ten. I bet him a thousand dollars he was wrong.”
“Yes, but…”
“I love my friend to pieces, but he’s not getting my thousand bucks. Can you help me out?”
Before the hotel employee could decline, Nick pulled out another hundred-dollar bill. Henri was practically licking his lips looking at it.
“Please?” the New Yorker added.
This time, it was Henri’s turn to look around to make sure they weren’t being observed.
“In that case, maybe we can do an exception.”
He took the money being offered and motioned for the guest to follow him around the counter. Nick resisted the urge to pump his fist in victory.
Both men went through a door behind the desk and followed a narrow corridor until they reached an office. There was a plaque on the door marked Securité. They went in as Nick told him what video he wanted exactly, the location and time he wanted to review.
The place was a glorified broom closet. Against one wall was a desk with three computer monitors which displayed several camera feeds. On the opposite wall were shelves with several binders and dozens of DVDs.
There were no windows. Henri explained that their chief of security wasn’t on duty on weekends; the assistant manager was tasked to fill in Saturday and Sunday.
“We haven’t taken the digital turn yet,” he said as he began browsing through the collection of DVDs. “I heard the hotel asked for a… how do you say? A quotation?”
“A quote, yes. A bid.”
“It was too expensive to change the entire system so we still have DVDs.” He read the labels by putting his finger against each case and it was slow going. “I found it.”
Chapter 20
He took the disc from the shelf and brought it to the console on the other side of the room. He slipped it into the player.
“Okay, fast-forward to around 9:45.”
“No problem,” Henri said as he complied.
“All right, press play and we can fast-forward while watching it.”
Being two hundred dollars richer, the assistant manager did his customer’s bidding. On the computer monitor, tiny people entered and exited the hotel very quickly.
Nick watched intently, knowing that this was a long shot. His goal was to spot something that didn’t fit, see if there was anything out of the ordinary. He was rapidly discovering that this was a waste of time.
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he picked up without looking at the caller ID so he wouldn’t miss anything on the screen.
“Nick Eversull.” He recognized Stanley’s voice. “Hey, what’s up, man?”
“Helmbold wants you at the office.”
“I have stuff going on at the moment. I was going to stop by before lunch.”
“He wants you here right now.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “You gotta be kidding me.”
“It’s our job, dude! That’s why we came here, remember?”
“He wants me in the office right now? Not five minutes from now, but right now?”
“Yeah. Don’t leave me hanging. I’m the one who’s going to look like an asshole if you don’t show up.”
Nick shook his head and exhaled. “Fine, I’m leaving. Be there shortly.”
He hung up and Henri looked at him.
“Is something wrong?”
“I have to go, urgent business apparently. I’ll be back as soon as I’m done. Sorry about that.”
There was too much he wanted to see on the video to simply rush through it. Maybe it was a wild goose chase, but it had to be done. He would just need to postpone studying it. With a shrug, Henri stopped the DVD at 9:56.
~ ~ ~ ~
Nick left the hotel and quickly walked down the sidewalk while looking for a taxi.
Most of them in the city—in the entire province of Quebec, for that matter—were not painted a single distinctive color. Well, they were just starting to but it was a mess. Most cabs were the driver’s personal car, albeit with a run-of-the-mill lighted roof sign. That made it difficult to hail a cab.
He looked up and stopped in his tracks. Xavier was staring at him from thirty yards away. The snarl on his face was obvious even at this distance. He didn’t need this shit, not today. He turned around and hurried away.
Xavier followed him.
He took long strides in order to catch up. Nick glanced over his shoulder and noticed the man was giving him chase. He went faster. But the more he accelerated, the quicker Xavier marched.
“Goddamm it,” Nick mumbled.
He realized the pimp was gaining on him.
Of course, Nick could have stopped and talked to him, see what he wanted. But from the look on his face, he was sure that Xavier wanted to send him another message. There was a murderous glint in his eyes. He wasn’t the sort of man who wanted to talk. No, he had to be someone who punched and hit and kicked until he had his way.
He couldn’t afford this now.
By now Nick was jogging. Looking toward the street, he couldn’t locate a taxi. He went faster around the corner and still the man was gaining on him. They were both flat out running.
He was too visible on the street, he had to get away! With the pressure mounting, Nick dipped to his right and entered the first door he encountered.
He was surprised to find himself in a multilevel complex. Place Montreal Trust, the sign read. It was a shopping mall. He rushed further in, toward the gigantic atrium. The place was bright and loud with the thunderous noise of water. Once he got there, he realized that in the middle of the atrium was a huge fountain. Water spouted at least a hundred feet in the air.
He needed an escape, and fast.
He had no intention of getting roughed up by that son of a bitch once again. He scanned his surroundings until he caught a glimpse of a glass elevator up ahead. He ran to it and managed to get in just as the doors were closing. Xavier reached the elevator a fraction of a second too late.
“Shit!” he yelled as he banged against the window.
The two men locked eyes as the elevator went up. There was a homicidal expression on the pimp’s face and Nick was getting more and more afraid. Xavier cast off and headed for the escalator.
Nick was breathing hard and forced himself to stop when he felt the tips of his fingers tickling. He was on the brink of hyperventilating. Christ, what kind of a mess had he gotten himself into?
Once the elevator stopped
, he charged out. His idea was to seek refuge somewhere. He didn’t want to run anymore, he didn’t want to fight. All his senses told him he needed to hide.
His heart thumping in his chest, he looked around for somewhere to go. There were security grates at every store. Closed. There were all fucking closed! Then he remembered it was Sunday morning, they wouldn’t open until a few hours later.
What do I do?
He stood motionless as he pondered his next course of action. He had to flee again, there was no other way.
He turned to get in the elevator once more, but it was already gone. He pushed the button and at the same time he spotted Xavier coming toward him.
Forced to act, Nick took off once more with the pimp in tow. He went down hallways lined with closed shops. He had no idea where he was going, but as long as he didn’t encounter a brick wall he would remain alive.
That was his hope anyway.
Chapter 21
Nick was scared and out of breath when he noticed a slight change in decor.
His eyes searched for information, anything to let him know where he was now, and that’s when he noticed he was now at the Eaton Centre. It was another shopping mall.
He remembered how Montreal had what it called the Underground City. There were over twenty miles worth of tunnels connecting the downtown core through office buildings, hotels, universities, malls, banks, metro stations, museums, and apartment buildings. You could live, work, and shop without ever stepping outside.
To him, it was a maze. He was essentially getting lost in it. On the other hand, this could be to his advantage. What better way to lose a tail than by entering a labyrinth?
He dashed forward and found a newsstand. He went to it, pretending to be interested in its various publications, in order to catch his breath. The clerk barely gave him a second look.
Farther back, Xavier showed up and came to a halt as he surveyed the surroundings. He scanned the few passersby and also took the opportunity to rest. As his eyes adjusted to the new location, he spotted Nick at the newsstand.
And Nick saw him as well. He knew he’d been caught when he saw Xavier had started running.
“Jesus…”
He left the kiosk and the chase was on yet again.
They ran down hallways, up some stairs and down others. They encountered a few pedestrians and yet no one intervened. No one cared. No one even paid attention. Before long, Nick burst onto the McGill Metro Station platform. There weren’t any trains and only a handful of people were waiting.
The New Yorker stopped. He was out of energy and out of options. If he turned around, he would simply fall into Xavier’s hands. It was a dead-end. His only escape route was to jump down on the tracks and risk certain death.
As he seriously considered doing that, the pimp reached him.
He put a hand on Nick’s shoulder and spun him around. When he was facing him, he punched him in the mouth without hesitation.
“Ugh!”
Nick reeled back, the air knocked out of him. He hadn’t been in a fistfight since elementary school when a kid had tried stealing his strawberry Fruit Roll-Up.
He was about to counterattack with a blow of his own when Xavier hit him in the face once more. Nick was so stunned that he collapsed to his knees.
“Do you like that, you worthless little cocksucker?”
Xavier kicked him straight in the stomach. The pain was unbearable and Nick couldn’t breathe.
“I was on the Internet this morning and guess what I found? No new reviews from you, that’s what. I looked up, I looked down, I looked all around. Not a fucking peep from you.”
Nick spat blood and caught his breath. “Fine, I’ll write your fucking review. But I can’t today.”
“You think I don’t know about what’s happening to you right now?”
“What?” the American asked, genuinely surprised.
“I know about the dead hooker and about the cops having their eye on you. You fuck me in the ass and you’ll be spitting your own nuts, I promise you. Make amends, write a review, or you will regret it.”
The pimp pointed a menacing finger at him. Nick had never been as scared. He had written off Xavier as a nuisance, some low-level hood with an inferiority complex, but he had underestimated him. This was a dangerous man.
In the middle of threatening the New Yorker, Xavier glanced around. He noticed the few other people on the platform were gawking. One was even snapping pictures with his phone.
This was crime in the twenty first century, all right. You couldn’t do it in peace anymore. Knowing he couldn’t risk the attention, Xavier jogged away.
“You okay?” a young woman asked Nick as she approached him, offering a paper tissue.
No, he definitely was not okay, he thought. He dabbed away at the blood—there wasn’t that much of it—and considered what to do next. He climbed to his feet knowing he had no options.
~ ~ ~ ~
Stanley was crunching numbers in the Hozalex Solutions conference room when Nick came in. He looked up at him and immediately noticed the bruised cheek and the cut on his lip.
“What the hell happened to you?”
“Uh? Oh, the face. It’s nothing, some guy assaulted me coming out of the hotel.”
“You were mugged?”
Nick dismissed the situation with a halfhearted wave of the hand. “Well, they tried making off with my wallet, but a police car was driving by. They punched me a few times and took off.”
“Geez…” Stanley began, standing up to inspect his face as if he had never seen something like that before. “Did you talk to the cops? File a report?”
“Forget it, Stanley.”
“But…”
Nick shook his head. He didn’t want anyone other than Anne-Marie to know about his situation. Most of all, he didn’t want to worry about other people discovering how much trouble he was in. At the moment, he could control the flow of information and he didn’t want his friend to be involved.
He said, “It’s fine. I don’t need the hassle right now. What’s this meeting about anyway?”
“Beats me, brother. Helmbold asked for the meeting, said he wanted to talk to both of us. You sure you’re up to this? Your face looks rough.”
“It looks worse than it is, honest. Only hurts when I blink.”
This made Stanley smile and the tension vanished, which was the plan. Nick just wanted to be left alone to deal with his own problems.
He was just about to take his seat when the door opened and David Helmbold came in. Stanley stood up in deference.
“Good morning, Nick. Glad you could join us.”
If there was a hint of reproach in his voice, the Americans chose to ignore it. “That’s what I’m here for.”
“What happened to you?” the older man asked, doing a double take as he saw the state of his face.
“It’s nothing, really.”
Nick gave nearly the same version of the mugging story, explaining that it was nothing at all. Helmbold bought it faster than Stanley. The man seemed preoccupied.
They were about to find out why.
Chapter 22
They ultimately all sat down around the long table. The CEO took a deep breath before speaking.
“Well, the reason I have asked you here on this Sunday morning is first of all to tell you how I appreciate the fine work you’ve been doing for me this weekend. I know you’re working on a deadline and I’m very grateful.”
“Working weekends is basically a way of life in our job description, in our business.”
“It’s because of fine people like you that people like me are in business, I won’t ever forget that.”
Helmbold looked away and took another deep breath. The hard part was coming.
“I started this business twenty-three years ago. I borrowed some money from my brother and set out to build a company I could be proud of. For the first three years, I didn’t even take a salary for myself.”
Nick and
Stanley glanced at each other. This seemed odd to deliver a biography when the man himself had acknowledged that they were on a tight schedule.
“Times were hard at first,” he continued. “Clients were sparse. Nobody trusted my new company. Hell, I never even finished high school. I didn’t trust myself much at the time.” He smiled wanly and the two Americans joined in. “But I worked hard and surrounded myself with competent people who worked just as hard. We worked the market and the strategy eventually paid off. We are now one of the most respected businesses in our field.”
Stanley nodded emphatically. “That you are.”
“Thank you. We’ve been able to stay in this position in large part thanks to your company’s investments. This money has allowed us to expand and to reach our objectives.” He paused before going on. “I want you to consider this when you write your report.”
“Let me assure you Mr. Helmbold that the day hasn’t come when my report isn’t thorough and accurate,” Nick said. “My reports always reflect the true condition of a company.”
“My future, my family’s future will be decided with your report. All I ask is that you consider this before sending your numbers to New York. Please depict us in a favorable light.”
He climbed to his feet, uneasily nodded goodbye, and left. The two other men looked at each other as if they had just witnessed a two-legged dog winning a three-legged race.
“That was interesting,” Stanley observed.
“Yeah.”
“Actually, I think it’s the most heartfelt ass-kissing I ever experienced. Too bad for him though.”
At that, Nick frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, believe it or not, while you’ve been cavorting all around town this weekend I’ve actually managed to get some work done.”
“Don’t start, Stanley.”
“I’m not judging, man. You’re the senior honcho and you can do whatever you want with your time. You may have a superior, but all I know is that it’s not me.”
“Thank you for clearing that up.”
“You’re welcome. But my point is that during your sexual escapades I’ve been right here buried in paperwork.”
