Black Violet

by Alex Hyland

  As I stepped away from her, she smiled like she’d just won some kind of stand-off. Like I was weak.

  I wasn’t.

  ‘And here’s your watch,’ I said.

  I tossed her digital watch back to her. She looked more than a little taken aback as she caught it.

  ‘A little too sure of myself?’ I said. ‘Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.’

  I returned to the window and continued watching Swan’s apartment.

  At three thirty a black Bentley Silver Spur with license plate ‘PS1’ disappeared down into the Howardson’s underground parking lot. I stood by our hotel room window watching it – I’d been waiting there since noon. ‘He’s about to leave,’ I said.

  Ella emerged from the bathroom wearing a short black shift dress and high heels – and I just stared at her. I couldn’t believe it, she looked sexy as fuck. Still no make-up, but it didn’t look like she needed it. Not that she was looking for my approval – she didn’t even glance at me. She just tied her hair up with a clip and joined me at the window. I kept my eyes on her, and for a moment wished that I’d kissed her instead of taking her watch.

  She stared at the Howardson. ‘There.’

  I looked back at the building. PS1 was exiting the parking lot on the side street. The car was now full – four people all in black tie. I could just about make out Swan’s bulbous head sitting in the rear seat next to one of his bodyguards. As the car sped off, I glanced at Ella – she flicked the lighter to make sure it was working. A tiny blue flame.

  ‘Five minutes,’ she said.

  She placed the lighter in her handbag and headed out of the room.

  I watched from the hotel window as she made her way across the street toward the Howardson. She was going to set off the sprinkler system in the ladies’ room of the restaurant.

  As she reached the main entrance, the doorman stopped her. They spoke a moment, but Ella looked calm and poised – smiling easily like some lunch crowd princess. As the doorman ushered her inside, I glanced up at the other apartments in the building. I caught sight of a few people in the upper floors – a few TVs blazing blue in the lower ones. That was good. When they cleared the building, there’d be a small crowd of residents milling about. It wouldn’t be too difficult to get close to the maid.

  I checked my watch – two minutes to go. I slipped the new phone into my pocket, put on my aviators, and headed out of the hotel.

  I crossed Market Street, stopped outside the pillared entrance of the Howardson and pretended to look for a cab. As I searched the traffic, I heard the alarm go off – a muffled ringing from deep inside the building. I calmly glanced at the upper floors like I was looking for a fire.

  The alarm continued. Residents then slowly began to emerge from the building. No fuss, they just drifted out – some of them even had plates of food. It was a truly cosmopolitan panic. As the building’s security guards ushered more people out, Ella emerged with them. I kept my eyes on the doors, waiting for Swan’s maid to appear.

  More residents drifted out – a small group. Swan’s maid then emerged from the door behind them. I eyed her carefully. White blouse. Black denim jeans – Diesels. As she glanced up at the building, I kept my eyes on the upper floors and slowly edged toward her. I’d bump into her – apologize. I took another quick look at her. A key chain disappeared into the front left pocket of her jeans. The other end of the chain was attached to one of her belt loops.

  Fuck. It had a security clasp – a combination lock. You needed to line up a four digit code to release it. Fuck.

  Ella glanced at me – could tell that something was wrong. She drifted over to me.

  ‘I can’t get it,’ I whispered.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She’s wearing a combination lock.’

  Ella stared at the maid’s key chain. ‘There’s nothing you can do? We may not get another chance like this.’

  I glanced around and tried to figure a new plan.

  The Howardson’s porter appeared at the main door and told us this would only take a few minutes to straighten out. I glanced up at the building, then stepped out into the street to get a better view. I remembered the maid had been opening windows. I looked up – one of Swan’s windows at the front of the building was open, but it was too exposed. It overlooked everyone waiting outside the main entrance. I headed over to the side street where it was quieter. Down the left-hand side of the building, I could see another small open window in his apartment. I studied it for a moment. Below it was a thick stone ledge. Below the ledge was the window of another apartment – one that belonged to someone here in the crowd. I didn’t know who. I thought to myself a moment – no choice. Shit.

  I walked over to Ella. ‘I need a paper bag,’ I said to her.

  ‘What?’

  ‘A paper bag.’

  I looked around. There was a convenience store on the next block.

  ‘Go get one. Give it to me when I ask for it,’ I said.

  Ella eyed me curiously, then headed for the store. As she did, I casually drifted toward a small group of residents. They’d been among the last ones to come out of the building – probably from the upper floors.

  I waited until Ella emerged from the store. I watched as she folded a small brown paper bag into her handbag, then I slipped off my sunglasses and started breathing heavily – noisily.

  ‘Shit,’ I said. I grabbed my forehead. ‘Fuck.’

  I crouched down and closed my eyes. One of the residents approached me – a man in his forties.

  ‘Are you alright?’ he asked. He placed a hand on my back.

  ‘Panic attack,’ I said.

  I stood up and tried to catch my breath.

  ‘It’s fine,’ he said.

  I started hyperventilating – rocking around uneasily on the sidewalk.

  ‘Just take it slow,’ he said.

  ‘I need a bag,’ I replied.

  Ella appeared beside me. She clicked open her handbag and offered me the brown paper bag. I grabbed it and breathed into it – made a big deal about it. I started swaying and fell to my knees. The residents around me scurried to my aid. They tried to pick me back up, their arms clambering around me.

  ‘It’s fine, just breathe,’ said one of them.

  ‘Sit him up,’ said another.

  They grabbed my arms, my back, and tried to get me seated on the sidewalk. But I was fighting for breath – reaching out, grabbing hold of anyone near me with my one free hand. Holding the bag to my mouth with the other.

  ‘I need to get inside,’ I said.

  Ella offered to help.

  ‘There’s a sofa in the lobby,’ said one woman. ‘Lay him down there. I’ll call an ambulance.’

  ‘No ambulance,’ I panted. ‘Just…I need to lie down.’

  Ella took me by the arm and led me inside the deserted marble lobby of the Howardson.

  ‘What the hell was that?’ she said.

  I quickly tore open the paper bag. Inside were five of the residents’ apartment keys. I grabbed them and shoved them into my pockets.

  ‘There’s an open window at Swan’s,’ I said. ‘I can probably climb in from the downstairs apartment. Go back to the hotel room, let me know if the maid comes back up.’

  She nodded approvingly at me, but I didn’t give a shit now – I just wanted this over with.

  I got into the elevator and headed up to seven, the floor below Swan’s.

  The elevator doors slid open onto a tiny landing with a black and white mosaic floor. There were only two apartment doors. I got my bearings – the apartment on my right would be the one below the open window. I took out the keys and started trying them in the lock. The first key – useless. So was the second. Third – garbage. Fourth. The door clicked open.

  I slipped inside the apartment – a wash of Persian carpets and crystal chandeliers. I ran to the far end. A leaded window overlooked the side street. I turned the handle, pushed the window open and stuck my head out.
The ledge below Swan’s apartment was a good seven or eight feet above the top of the window – it had looked a lot closer from the ground. I’d have to stand full length, balancing on the top of the window frame to reach it. I tugged at the window to make sure it was sturdy, then glanced down at the tiny side street, a hundred and fifty feet below. There were a few people walking by, but they weren’t looking up. There was an office block on the other side of the street. The offices on my level looked empty, but there were a few suits milling around on the floors above. Someone would see me for sure if I wasn’t quick about this.

  I climbed up onto the window sill, then paused a moment. This was alien territory for me. Scaling buildings? I was a hundred and fifty feet up and way out of my league. I stared down at the sidewalk and tried to summon up the strength. When it came to scary shit like this, common sense was the enemy. Don’t think. Just do it.

  I grabbed the top of the open window with both hands and hauled my body over it. I felt the frame dig into my stomach as my legs dangled in the air – two fucking hinges were all that were holding me up now. I steadied myself against the stone wall of the building with one hand, then pulled a leg up onto the top of the window. The hinges creaked – something snapped. Fuck – I clung to the window. The panic in me as I stared down at the frame. I tried to keep calm – don’t think, just do it. I raised my leg again, placed the sole of my foot on the frame and pushed myself up into a standing position. I balanced precariously on the top of the window, my fingers grasping to any edges in the building’s masonry that I could find. The ledge above me was just out of reach – I’d have to launch myself at it. As I readied myself, the hinges creaked again. Jesus. I felt myself losing balance. The window snapped – I jumped and grabbed at the ledge with my fingertips. The window buckled below me, a single twisted hinge stopping it from crashing to the street below. I dangled from the ledge, my fingers clinging to the rough stone. I pulled my chin above the ledge, shot an arm out across the stone, then dragged my body onto the ledge.

  My heart raced as I gathered myself a moment. I glanced at the open window of Swan’s apartment just a few feet to my right. I crawled along the ledge, pulled open the window, then tumbled in, head first. I landed on a polished mahogany desk, smashing a china lamp in the process. This wasn’t elegant cat-burglary, but I didn’t give a shit how it looked. I was just happy to be back inside.

  I got to my feet in a wood paneled room – a cramped study full of leather armchairs and stuffed animals. Peacocks and lizards. I opened the study door and headed out into a long winding hallway. Glass display cabinets full of swords and muskets lined the walls. Another full of violins. In between them, white marble busts of composers and writers – their heads sitting on columns like a bunch of Pre-Raphaelite Pez dispensers. The place looked like a museum.

  My phone vibrated – it was Ella.

  ‘I’m in,’ I said.

  ‘Good,’ she replied. ‘They’re still outside.’

  ‘I’ll be as quick as I can. Call me the moment they start heading in.’

  I hung up and ran down the hallway. A dining room to my right – tapestry chairs and pewter candlesticks. Beyond that, a wood-paneled reception with shields hanging from the walls. I headed further down. A huge stone archway then appeared to my left. Rows of book shelves on the other side – this was it.

  I headed into the vast, galleried library. Polished wooden book shelves twenty feet high covered the walls. Rolling ladders. Suspended walkways. There had to be a hundred thousand books in here, easy. I ran to the nearest shelf and studied a leather-bound volume – A History of Egyptian Agriculture. Reference books. I glanced around – the books on the upper level looked smaller, more like novels. I clambered up a wrought iron spiral staircase and started scanning the books on the next level. I found Charles Dickens’ Our Mutual Friend. This level was novels. Gatsby would be here somewhere.

  I paused a moment. The novels were ordered by author. My mind went blank – who wrote The Great Gatsby? I couldn’t remember. I grabbed my phone and called Ella. There was no answer. I hung up and tried the internet on my phone. A polite message on the screen informed me that my account wasn’t set up for web access. Shit. I tried Ella again. Still no answer. Fuck, where the hell was she? I glanced at the novels. There were thousands of them – I couldn’t go through them all. Come on, I knew this. Gatsby. I tried to think. Time was against me. Come on…The Great Gatsby. It felt like I was trying to win a car.

  F. Scott Fitzgerald!

  I laughed. I couldn’t believe it. Something that I’d learned at school was actually of some fucking use. I ran down the suspended walkway and started looking. Faulkner. Ferber. Filliman.

  Fitzgerald.

  I glanced at the volume titles and found it. The Great Gatsby. It was a paperback – it looked new, this was no first edition. I quickly checked to make sure there were no other copies on the shelf. Just the one. I grabbed it, then went still. I could hear voices in the apartment. A door closing. Shit. I laid face down on the suspended walkway and kept my eyes on the entrance to the library.

  The maid walked past the archway. She was with a security guard – a huge Middle Eastern guy in a dark gray suit. They were checking the rooms.

  Why the hell hadn’t Ella called?

  Fuck. I couldn’t get back out the way I’d come in – the downstairs window was trashed. The only way out was the main door.

  I heard the maid’s voice. ‘I’m sure it’s fine,’ she said.

  ‘I need to check,’ replied the guard.

  I could hear them inspecting the other rooms – doors opening. Silence for a moment, then heavy footsteps approaching the library. I pressed myself as flat against the walkway as I could. The edge of the walkway had a raised lip – six inches – it wouldn’t give me much cover. The security guard entered the library. He glanced around the lower book cases, then disappeared underneath the walkway where I was lying. I stopped breathing – stayed deathly still. He reappeared below me, then headed for the bookcases on the other side of the room. From there he’d be able to see me on the walkway for sure. Shit, I was going to have to fight my way out of this. I slid the book into my jacket pocket, and lifted my head slightly. I could see him on the other side of the library, looking around. He’d see me any moment. Fuck.

  ‘Hasani!’ came the maid’s voice. ‘The study!’

  The guard turned and ran out of the library. The maid must have found the smashed china lamp. This was my chance. I swung my legs off the walkway and lowered myself to the floor. I crept over to the archway and took a quick look down the hallway. I couldn’t see them. They were in the study, but they wouldn’t be there for long. The main door was a hundred feet down the hallway to my left. The elevator had to be just outside. I crept down the hallway as quickly and quietly as I could. I reached the main door and opened it.

  ‘What the fuck!’ yelled the security guard from the other end of the hallway.

  I slammed the door shut behind me and ran for the elevator. I hit the call button – could hear the guard running inside the apartment.

  ‘Come on, come on!’ I yelled at the elevator.

  The elevator opened. I jumped inside, hit the button – but nothing moved. The apartment door then burst open in front of me and the guard ran out. As he sprinted across the landing, the elevator door lazily began to slide shut. I raised my fists as he leaped for the door – but too late – his hands slammed against the steel as the elevator closed. I was on my way down, but not clear yet. The guard didn’t look like he had a radio mic, but he’d call the foyer guards from his phone, no question. I needed to get out quick. I reached the ground floor and exited the elevator.

  The lobby was full of people. Chaos. Residents complaining to the porter that they couldn’t find their keys. The lunch crowd returning to the restaurant. I calmly headed for the main doors. Three security guards were standing by them – one was on his phone. He started looking around. I changed direction and veered across the lobby tow
ard the restaurant. I glanced back – the guard on the phone was looking at me.

  ‘Stop him!’ he yelled.

  The guards ran for me. I sprinted through the restaurant, looking for another exit – the kitchen, anything – all I could see were walls and windows. The diners looked startled as the security guards ran into the restaurant. A couple in their sixties were sitting at a window table at the far end. It was my only way out now. I ran for them, leaped up onto their table and launched myself back first through the window. The glass billowed out with a splintering crash as I landed on the sidewalk. I picked myself up and sprinted down the backstreets.

  I could hear the guards giving chase – their voices in the afternoon air behind me. I kept running, weaving through the streets. I darted around a busy corner, then slowed to a stroll. A large crowd was crossing the main junction ahead of me on Market Street. I slipped into the crowd, crossed the street with them, then casually stepped onto a streetcar.

  As the car rolled up Market Street, I slumped into a seat and caught my breath. I peered out of the window at the Howardson – the police were pulling up by the main entrance. I shook my head – I couldn’t believe that Ella had hung me out to dry like that. This book had better have been worth the trouble.

  I grabbed it from my pocket and quickly flipped through the pages, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Regular paper, regular text. No handwritten notes in the margins. I ran my fingertips across the covers and tried to feel if there was anything hidden inside them. It looked and felt like a run-of-the-mill store-bought copy. Fuck it – I stuck the book back in my jacket, then took another quick look out of the window. The Howardson was disappearing out of sight. I put my sunglasses back on, stepped off the car, then carefully made my way back to The Bluebird via the side streets.