by Tom Gabbay
Assessing the water level, which was enveloping Boyd's shoulders now, Aleksi considered pointing out that she had only another few minutes to live, but decided there was no need to state the obvious. And besides, he preferred to focus on himself.
"You might be thinking that I won't get away with it," he said. "But that's the beauty of my situation. You see, in your world, I'm no more than a figment of my sister's twisted imagination. I don't exist." He smiled again. "And it's very difficult to find someone who doesn't exist. As you know only too well!"
Boyd tried desperately to speak through her gag, but it was garbled and Aleksi chose to ignore her.
"My point," he continued, "...is that my sister will take the blame for all these killings, not me. And they'll never find her, either, because, well... let's just say I have plans for Ula, too." He used the knife to point to his own head. "She's in here now. Sleeping like a baby, with no idea about any of this."
The water was covering Boyd's entire torso now, lapping up around her chin. She tried to sit up again, but Aleksi kept her in place.
"It'll be easier for you if you don't struggle," he said. "Although I can certainly understand why you would. It's only natural to fight for your life." He sighed and shook his head in appreciation of the moment. "What must be going through your mind right now? Is your life flashing before your eyes? Or are you still hoping that you'll find some way to escape? As they say, hope springs eternal!"
Boyd understood that her chances of survival were dim, but she also knew that her one remaining hope was to somehow engage this sick individual. Closing her eyes, she dug deep to find the strength to maintain her composure while every every cell in her body was telling her to resist with everything she had. Aleksi felt her body relax and saw that the fear was gone from her eyes when she opened them. She looked inexplicably peaceful, and he didn't like it.
"You do know what's happening, don't you?" he blurted out. "You're about to die a fucking horrible death!"
Whatever words Boyd spoke through her gag were equally calm and they aroused Aleksi's curiosity.
"Oh, you have something to say, do you? All right then..." He started to remove the tape from her mouth, but hesitated. "I hope you don't think that screaming will do you any good," he said. "It certainly didn't help that scientist."
Boyd shook her head, as if to promise her silence, and Aleksi ripped the gag off her face. "There!" he said. "Go ahead! Speak! Blow me away with your last words! Make it something wonderfully profound!"
"I want to speak to Ula," Boyd said, her voice steady and strong.
Aleksi tried to laugh it off, but it threw him. "Ula's not available," he said, with a hint of resentment. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me."
"Ula, if you can hear me, please wake up!"
"Don't do that," Aleksi said, growing agitated.
"I know you're in there, Ula! You must wake up!"
"Stop saying that!"
"Ula!" Boyd called out with increasing urgency as the water continued to rise, splashing into her mouth. "Wake up and look at me!"
Feeling his sister stir, Aleksi stood up and took a step backward. "Oh, no," he said, shaking his head. "No, you don't!"
"I know you can hear me, Ula!" Boyd cried out. "You need to wake up now!"
Leaning over the tub, Aleksi clamped his free hand over Boyd's mouth and brandished the knife with the other, holding the blade threatening close to the underside of her neck.
"I told you to stop saying that!"
Unable to breathe, Boyd bit down hard, taking a piece of skin and muscle out of Aleksi's palm. He sprung to his feet, howling with pain.
"BITCH!" he shrieked.
"Ula!" Boyd frantically called out as the water continued to rise. "Wake up, Ula!"
"No!" Sensing his sister emerging from her sleep, Aleksi panicked. "No, you don't!"
"Ula!" Boyd persisted. "Wake up and take control!"
Aleksi flew into a rage. Falling to his knees, he stabbed at the rising water in a frenzied, incoherent attack. The first two thrusts missed the target, but the third found Boyd's chest. Cutting deep, the blade sliced through muscle and bone, finally piercing the upper portion of her left lung. Crying out in pain, she slipped back into the tub, gasping for air as blood surged into the bath water, transforming it into a sickly pink colour.
Feeling spent, Aleksi stood up, took a deep, shaky breath, and drank the moment in with silent appreciation. He wondered if Boyd would die by drowning or might she bleed to death first? She was still breathing, but just barely. It was tempting to push her head down under the water and hold it there, see if she would struggle. But no, he told himself. Be patient. It won't take long for that vacant look to appear. Stand back and let it happen.
As Boyd slipped down below the water line, she looked at peace now. Aleksi wondered if there was a clear line between life and death, or if it was more indefinite than that.
43.
Leonard came out of nowhere. Charging through the darkness, he launched himself across the room and tackled Aleksi from behind, taking him down onto the hard stone floor. Adrenalin surging, he was suddenly as clear and as strong as he'd been four decades earlier, fresh off the course at the Met training centre. Wrapping his legs around Aleksi's torso, he got him in a chokehold, arched his back and tightened his grip, creating pressure on the carotid artery. It took just a few seconds for him to go limp.
Leaping to his feet, Leonard moved quickly and efficiently, plunging his arms into the now overflowing tub, grasping his lifeless daughter and pulling her up, out of the water. Clutching her in his arms, he carefully lowered her onto the floor and quickly removed the gaffer's tape from her wrists.
"Hold on, sweetheart," he whispered as he applied pressure to the wound with one hand and began chest compressions with the other. "One... two... three... Breathe!" Leaning in, he gave her the kiss of life. "Come on, darling! One... two... three... Breathe!"
But she was unresponsive.
"Come on!" His voice quivered, betraying his rising emotions. "One... two... three... Breathe!"
Still nothing.
"Don't you do this, Sarah!" he cried. "Don't you dare do this! One... two... three... Breath!"
There was a movement.
"That's it, sweetheart! Now breathe! Come on! Breathe!"
A choking sound.
"Open your eyes, sweetheart! Open your eyes and breathe!"
Boyd began to cough and sputter, then her eyes fluttered open. She turned her head to the side, expelling blood and water onto the floor.
"Thank god," Leonard said, trying to hold back his tears as he removed his jacket and placed it over her. "Thank god."
"Dad..."
"Don't try to speak, sweetheart. We'll get you to the hospital as quick as -- "
The look in Boyd's eyes stopped him cold. He spun around to find Aleksi standing over them, knife in hand. Springing to his feet, he prepared for another attack -- but something had changed. Something elusive, but undeniable. The aggressor, full of angry hostility, was gone and in his place stood someone quite different.
"Ula?" Boyd whispered. "Is that you?"
She looked from Leonard to Boyd, then to the bloodied knife. "Did I... Did I do this?"
"No... " Boyd struggled to get the words out. "It wasn't you. It was Aleksi."
Ula frowned and shook her head, as if trying to fight off an excruciating pain. "I... I don't understand," she cried.
But the truth was, she did understand. While never fully aware of the fault line that existed in her psyche, somewhere deep down, in the depths of her subconscious, she knew about Aleksi. In a way, she'd been his accomplice -- or at least his facilitator -- granting him the power to manipulate her, to use and abuse her.
As a child, she'd given him life, perhaps out of some sense of guilt, or fear, or maybe it was just sheer loneliness. It probably started with a whispered conversation in the dark, young Ula taking on the role of her missing brother, speaking for him and then, as they grew
older, thinking for him and, finally, acting for him. As Aleksi blossomed, Ula shrunk further into herself, allowing her brother to voice all the contempt and self-loathing she felt for herself and, ultimately, she became little more than a front for her long dead brother.
Then came Mia. Ula's unfulfilled need for human contact -- for love -- had finally found a receptacle in the charming young girl with the soft southern accent. But, like everything else in her tragic life, it gave her nothing but pain. And now, as she gazed into the gilded mirror above the sink, she finally met her twin, and she understood everything, including what he had done.
"Ula...?"
Transfixed, Ula didn't respond.
"Ula...?" Boyd repeated, summoning her strength. "Look at me, Ula."
She seemed to be lost, someplace far away.
"There are people who can help you, Ula," Boyd said, her voice barely a whisper. "Let us help you."
A long silence hung in the room. Then Ula's face became contorted and she shook her head, vehemently. "No!" she cried out. "NO!"
"Ula?"
"He's coming... he's coming back!"
"Fight him, Ula! Fight back!"
"I... I can't... he's... he's too strong!"
Leonard took a tentative step toward her. "Give me the knife," he said gently, reaching his hand out. "Everything will be all right if you give me the knife."
Ula was paralysed, unsure what to do.
"Give it to him, Ula..." Boyd pleaded. "Give the knife to my father. Please, Ula..."
For a moment it seemed that she was going to give up the weapon. But she hesitated. "If he wakes up..." she whispered. "If he wakes up I don't know what he'll do."
Without another word, she took the knife in both hands and turned it on herself. Before Leonard could move, Ula closed her eyes and plunged the blade into her heart.
Leonard tried, of course, but there was no saving her. The wound was just too deep.
44.
The darkness didn't frighten her. Not this time.
Sitting up, young Ula, six years old, looked out across the room and saw that Aleksi wasn't in his bed. But she knew where to find him. Slipping out from under the covers, she walked barefoot, following the light to the bathroom.
The sight of her mother dangling from the ceiling didn't upset her, not like the first time. This time she didn't cry, or hide in the corner until the men came to take her away. And this time she knew better than to look up at her mother's face. She went straight to the bathtub, where she knew she would find Aleksi. He looked so peaceful, she thought, lying there, immersed in the warm water. As if he was sleeping.
The tub was too high to clamber over so she retrieved the bin from under the sink and turned it upside down to use as a stepping stool. Climbing up and over, she slipped into the tub and took her place beside her brother.
His hand was icy cold when she took it in hers, but it still gave her the comfort she was seeking. They had promised each other that they would be together, forever and ever, come what may.
Now they would be.
45.
"Knock, knock..."
Whittington Hospital was a labyrinth of interconnected buildings and long corridors that seemed to lead everywhere but where he was going, so Nichols was pleased that he'd finally found the right room. Boyd was sitting up in bed, watching something on her iPad.
"Oh, hello there!" She greeted him with a warm smile as she removed her ear buds. "Gosh! What a surprise!"
Nichols stepped into the room and quickly noted that Leonard was sitting at the far end of the room, staring out the window at a grey London skyline.
"Oh..." He paused. "Am I intruding?"
Boyd shook her head. "No, no, come in. He's been like that for a while. I thought it best to leave him."
Nichols nodded and remembered the flowers he'd been carrying around. "Oh! I brought you these... Roses."
"That's very thoughtful. Thank you."
"Looks like you've got quite a few admirers," he said, noting that the room was overflowing with floral arrangements.
"Yes, well, I don't know most of them. Hardly any, in fact."
"The price of fame." Nichols smiled, a little uneasily. "Shall I add these to the collection?"
"No, no... I, ah... They're beautiful... I'll keep them here, by the bed."
Nichols filled an empty glass with water from the bathroom and placed the bouquet on the table at Boyd's side. "They're winter roses," he explained. "From my garden."
"Really?"
Nichols shrugged. "It's kind of a hobby."
"I'm impressed."
"You should see the Peruvian Lilys."
"Wow. Sounds exotic."
"Oh, yes. Very."
"Well, then. I guess you'd better invite me over."
"Consider it done," Nichols beamed.
Boyd invited him to pull up a chair and the two detectives soon lost track of time, talking about everything and nothing for the rest of the afternoon. Through it all, Leonard sat by the window, engrossed in whatever adventure he and Grace were having, a wry smile affixed to his face.
***
About the Author
Tom Gabbay was born in 1953 in Bloomington, Indiana. After studying painting in London and Philadelphia, he began his career in New York, producing award-winning animated short films for the well known children's program Sesame Street. During his tenure at NBC Entertainment he served as a Director of Children's Programs, Director of Comedy Programs, and Creative Director for NBC Europe. In addition to his novels, he has written several screenplays and contributed political cartoons to the Philadelphia Daily News.
http://www.tomgabbay.com
Praise For T R Gabbay's Previous Work
“Powered by relentless pacing and a story line abounding in subterfuge, treachery and subversion, this Ludlumesque page-turner offers invaluable historical insights into the turbulent relationship between America (“the Great Satan”) and Iran.”
- Publisher’s Weekly on "The Tehran Conviction"
"A Cold War thriller of real brilliance; John le Carré with a witty ironic edge that will start you thinking about the real truth behind the Kennedy assassination."
- Jack Higgins on "The Berlin Conspiracy"
"Gabbay serves it all up with Raymond Chandler--esque dark humor, a rich sense of place and a fine feel for the yawning chasm between those privileged to float above the exigencies of that dark time and those who were engulfed in its horrors.”
- Forbes on "The Lisbon Crossing"
