Kindred Intentions

by Rita Carla Francesca Monticelli

  She crossed the distance that separated them. Now she was looking him straight in the eye. She reached out to touch his right arm. Her hand slipped to his wrist and onto the gun he was holding along his side. She added her other hand and felt Mike’s fingers loosening their grip. Now she was the one holding the weapon. She raised it to look at it. She ran her fingers along the slide and the silencer. She backed off one, two, three steps.

  Mike’s face became alarmed. His lips moved as if he were about to speak, but no sound left his mouth.

  Amelia extended her arm in front of her, aiming the weapon at him. She felt like smiling. That was a funny situation. For the first time she had him at gunpoint without him having any way to defend himself. He was completely disarmed; not only his body, but his soul, too. She could see his emotions shine through his face. Sadness, doubt, curiosity, fear. She could have done anything.

  “What if what I’ve just told you isn’t true?” She rolled her eyes, and then focused them on him again. “Yes, well, my son really did die in a car accident. But … come on … it would be too much of a coincidence if it was this man’s fault, wouldn’t it? Perhaps it was just a story I’ve invented on the spot to distract you.”

  She enjoyed seeing him so confused.

  “Or maybe it’s true, but I could arrest you anyway now,” she said. She moved her head to one side, indicating the other man. “He will die anyway. He’s already dying. I could get everything. My vendetta, glory, a brilliant career in the police. Uh …” She started laughing. “Can you imagine that?”

  She smiled at the thought of being praised by Monroe. The detective had taken her into his team because she was a new face and at the same time had a real understanding of the legal field, which made her perfect for that undercover job. Who knew what his expression would’ve been, if she had shown up with the killer they were looking for, caught right in the act of committing a crime? Imagining his face amused her.

  “Or …” She resumed speaking, putting aside those ideas. “I could pull the trigger and kill you.” She shrugged. “I can say I tried to stop you and the gun went off.” She felt a deep satisfaction as she saw a micro-expression of anger in his face. He wasn’t the one now intimidating her, humiliating her. Being on the other side of the weapon changed the balance of power. “After all, you know everything about me now. You could get me in trouble.”

  She waited in silence for her last statement to have an effect, but in vain. He was again wearing that calm expression of someone who had nothing to lose.

  “Or instead, you could take me with you, as I asked.”

  “I have to choose between being arrested, or maybe killed, and taking you with me?” His voice was controlled, analytical.

  “You and I aren’t so different,” Amelia said, cracking a smile. “Our purposes are kindred, our desires are alike. We could find a common ground.”

  She moved her arm and aimed the weapon at the man seated beside the wall. And then she pulled the trigger. The shot hit his chest. It was strange to feel the recoil of that silent weapon, but even stranger hearing that low noise in place of a real gunshot. She stepped forward. She pulled again. This time she scored a direct hit to his head.

  The man’s gaze became glassy. His body stiffened, then started slipping along the wall until it finally collapsed on the floor.

  She didn’t think it was going to be this way. A million times she’d imagined how it would be to take his life, picturing the most ferocious ways. She thought she would feel satisfied, almost happy. Now that she’d done it, the only thing she felt was nothingness, an absence of emotion. Her soul had become a blank slate. No satisfaction, but neither was there sorrow anymore. From now on she would be free to build everything from scratch, to be a different person. She was finally ready to let Joseph go and welcome anything life had in store for her.

  Amelia lowered her weapon and turned to Mike again. “I can’t go back now.” She smiled because that knowledge eliminated any doubt. Having deleted that choice, a thousand more were opening in front of her.

  He reached out with his palm up. “No, you can’t. You must go on now.”

  “Moreover I’m dead, and you … well … you don’t even exist.” Laughing a bit, she offered him the weapon by its butt. She didn’t need it anymore.

  “But I still have one last piece of business to fix,” Mike said, gently retrieving it from her fingers. “I could use your help.” And he smiled, too.

  The black car was proceeding slowly in the London traffic of Wednesday morning. The dark windows obscured the sunlight of what would otherwise have been a nice summer day. But from time to time the sky was covered by clouds pregnant with rain, which were crowding over the city and soon would water it. It was quite hot anyway, even though the car’s interior was air-conditioned. The man at the steering wheel was wearing a chauffeur’s cap and driving carefully. The woman on the backseat checked the time. It was a few minutes to ten. Only twenty-four hours earlier she’d been about to sit through a job interview, but events had taken an unexpected turn, which had led her to this moment.

  The driver hit the indicator and pulled over near the pavement in front of the Old Bailey, the Central Criminal Court, from which Goldberg was coming out accompanied by his bodyguard. The latter opened the back door for his boss. The lawyer nodded his thanks and with a distracted air got into the car. He was reading something on his mobile phone, while with the other hand was holding a briefcase, but as soon as he was seated his gaze was drawn to the unexpected female presence.

  “Who …?” he started off with a perplexed tone, as the door was closed.

  Amelia put her gun fitted with a silencer to his side, adding a friendly smile to her gesture. “Good morning, lawyer, I suggest you don’t move.” She showed him her free hand and indicated his phone with a nod of her head. “If you don’t mind.”

  Goldberg gaped, then swallowed, at last surrendering his device to her. She accepted it, but left her hand there, so he gave her the briefcase, too. They turned to the front door, which was opened by the bodyguard.

  The man was sitting, but at once he seemed to notice something strange.

  The driver’s hand, brandishing a gun, appeared in front of him. An arm grabbed his, dragging him inside. “Close the door.”

  The bodyguard hesitated. He lowered his head, perhaps looking for his weapon.

  “It isn’t a good idea,” the driver commented.

  The other appeared to change his mind and did as he was told. Then the noise of a gunshot deadened by a silencer was heard and the bodyguard collapsed on his seat.

  “What the fuck …” Goldberg exclaimed, but the sentence was cut off halfway, when the driver turned to look at him through the compartment. The lawyer went pale.

  “Good morning, Goldberg, did you have a good hearing in court?” Mike asked him, straightening his chauffeur’s cap, whilst with the other hand was holding a gun aimed at his interlocutor.

  “Connor …” There was pure terror in the inflection of his voice.

  “One would say he is surprised to see you.” Amelia pushed her gun into the man’s side, to draw his attention. “Actually, it seems like he’s seen a ghost.” And she laughed.

  Goldberg narrowed his eyes. It seemed he tried to focus on the person in front of him. “And who the fuck are you?” A flash of comprehension then shone in his face. “The policewoman!”

  “I’m afraid the prediction about our imminent death, as ensured by Jeff Matthews’s men, was a bit exaggerated.” Mike turned back to the steering wheel and placed the weapon in the door storage pocket.

  “Oh, yeah,” she remarked. “Now we should go for a drive, shouldn’t we, lawyer?”

  The car pulled away from the pavement and entered the traffic.

  “What are you planning?” Goldberg’s arrogance was lightly veiled by a hint of uncertainty.

  “We’ll take you with us for now,” Mike said, while driving. “And we’ll tell you what you can do for us, for starters
.”

  The lawyer loosened his collar and laid back. He emitted a faint sigh. He was still nervous, but must have understood that, as long as they wanted something from him, they would keep him alive. “I must say I admire you.” He was using a paternal tone. If it wasn’t for the sweat dripping from his temple, he could have appeared as if he was at ease in the situation. “You’ve survived Matthews and his men, and now you’ve got to me. You’ve got balls.”

  “It wasn’t so difficult.” Mike eyed them through the rear-view mirror. “Your driver is a creature of habit, he always takes the same routes. I’ve been watching him for a while. When I work for someone, I make sure I can reach them at any moment.” He sneered.

  “And you, officer.” The lawyer had addressed Amelia. “I’m surprised to see you here, in these circumstances.”

  “Haven’t you seen the TV this morning?” She was having fun, goading him with her weapon, getting an agitated reaction, which the man tried to conceal. “It seems that Officer Amelia Jennings is dead.”

  Goldberg cleared his throat in a forced way. Apparently he hadn’t welcomed the news very well. “So,” he exclaimed resolutely. “What do you want from me?”

  “If I was to base my actions just on what I want, my first instinct would be to kill you.” The hard voice of Mike caused the other man’s lips to tremble. “But perhaps we could come to an agreement, couldn’t we?”

  The lawyer swallowed again. “Yes … sure. What … should I do?”

  Amelia laid the briefcase on her legs and with her free hand pressed the opening button, but the mechanism seemed locked. “Would you mind opening the lock?”

  “Sure …” The man moved forward to grab the briefcase, but she pushed him back with her weapon.

  “Slowly, no sudden movements.”

  The car slowed down and halted at a traffic light, while Goldberg’s trembling fingers were fiddling with the combination. “Here it is.” The opening clicked and he backed off again.

  “I think I deserve some compensation for the man-hunt I had to endure this last day.” Mike’s tone was serious, but Amelia couldn’t help smiling.

  There wasn’t much inside the briefcase. A laptop and a tablet were laid on top of a few dossiers contained in a folder. She considered which of the two would be more suitable and decided to look at the first one. She took it out and gave it to the lawyer, who accepted it with little conviction. He was alternating between looking at her, and the man at the steering wheel on the seat in front of hers.

  “For instance, ten million pounds, the same amount you used as a bait to lead me into a trap.”

  “I …” Goldberg was almost gasping. “I don’t have that amount of funds available.” He shook his computer with both hands. “Do you really believe I can wire transfer such an amount so easily? The money wasn’t mine, it belonged to my client—” He paused, perhaps realising he’d said something wrong.

  “We’ll talk about your client later,” Mike stepped in. “As for you, we know full well you have a secret account in Switzerland. I’m sure you have that amount.” Amelia pulled out a sheet from her jacket pocket and handed it to the lawyer. “My partner is providing you with the bank routing number of my account in the Caymans. You won’t need more than a few minutes to carry out the transaction.” The car moved again and entered a wider road, where the vehicle travelled more freely.

  More pale than ever, Goldberg took the sheet of paper and opened his computer, resigned to the situation. “How can I be sure that after giving you the money you won’t kill me anyway?” It took some minutes before the device was ready to use.

  “You can’t. That’s the beauty of it.”

  This time Amelia laughed.

  “Fuck …” the lawyer murmured, concentrating on the screen. The LED of the USB connection device lit up. He brought an icon to the foreground and typed in some codes. Then he turned his attention to the sheet. The operation took some time, during which he checked out of the window. There were so many cars out there, so many people. He was surely thinking of asking for help, but the dark glass made him invisible from outside. And anyway the gun in his side had to be a sufficient deterrent to make him set aside the idea.

  An animation appeared on the screen, together with some writing: ‘Transaction in progress.’ It went on for a while, then it changed to ‘Transaction completed.’ Amelia smiled and closed the computer with a slap. Goldberg had just time to pull away. “It’s done,” she stated, as she put the device back in the briefcase.

  There was a beep. Mike pulled out his mobile phone from a pocket and read the confirmation message from his bank, as he drove. A real public danger. Amelia laughed under her breath. She was concerned about him using the phone while driving and not about the corpse on the passenger’s seat. She’d got her sense of irony back. It was a good sign.

  “Good,” Mike commented.

  “Let me go now.” Goldberg didn’t sound at all confident that they would listen to him.

  “Why, don’t you like our company?” she said, mocking him. She put her hand in her pocket again, but this time she pulled out a plastic tie. “Put it around your left wrist and then around the support up there.” She pointed at the handle over the door. “And fasten it tight.”

  “What do you want to do to me?” He took the tie and looked at it, then he raised his gaze to her again.

  “We still want to talk to you, but we’d prefer that you don’t leave the car.”

  “You want to kill me, I know.”

  “I suggest you don’t irritate my partner,” Mike stepped in. He was checking them in the rear-view mirror. “She’s particularly bloodthirsty today.” It was supposed to be a joke, but his voice was too serious. Then he accelerated.

  “What’s happening?” Amelia leant forward and threw the briefcase onto the bodyguard’s corpse. It slipped down to the foot well.

  “Someone’s following us.”

  She turned to look behind and recognised a blue vehicle. It was travelling in the fast lane too, but was keeping a certain distance. Oh, sure, how could she have forgotten? “It must be Monroe’s squad; they keep this bastard under surveillance. I hadn’t thought about it.”

  “It’s not that bad.” Mike slowed down again, queuing behind another car. “But we must be ready for later.”

  “Later?” The lawyer had spoken. He’d checked through the rear window too, but he was addressing her now. “What will happen later?”

  “You must tell me which client ordered the murders, including mine,” Mike said, resuming a calm tone and ignoring his question.

  “I … can’t reveal his identity …” Goldberg was more and more agitated. He was also growing insensitive to the menaces of Amelia’s gun. “I’m a dead man, if I speak.”

  Annoyed by his reticence and by the impression she’d lost her touch, she raised the gun and this time pointed it at his temple. “You’re a dead man now, if you don’t speak.”

  “So pull the fucking trigger!” the lawyer shouted out without any apparent dread for the situation he was in. “Because, if I tell you, he will kill my whole family.”

  “I don’t like it; they’re too close,” Mike said, distracting her from her prisoner.

  Amelia looked back again. Yes, they were too close. “Will they have found the driver?”

  “Fuck off!” The lawyer hurled himself at her and seized her wrist.

  What did he think he was going to do?

  The car accelerated again and started to overtake the other vehicles both on the right and on the left. For a moment she found Goldberg on her. He was stronger than her. She felt her head pressing against the window.

  The gun went off.

  Mike counter-steered and the lawyer was pushed against the opposite door, releasing Amelia’s arm. Fuck it. She aimed the weapon and shot. Once, twice, three times. Goldberg’s lifeless body fell forward.

  “I’m sorry, I know you still wanted to interrogate him.”

  “Ah …” Mike commented. The
traffic light in front of him had changed to red, but he didn’t brake. “Well, he wouldn’t have spoken anyway.” He steered without slowing down. A screeching of tyres accompanied the ninety-degree curve.

  The car tailed out a bit, making Amelia’s head hit the upright. “Oh God …” Another bump on her head wasn’t really necessary. She’d already got too many.

  “As soon as I stop, cross the road and get away as fast as possible.” Mike braked and the vehicle came to a grinding halt. “Go!” he ordered. “I’ll find you.”

  Amelia opened her door, got out, and then closed it. She ran across the road, but once on the other side she slowed her pace, placing her armed hand under the jacket she was holding. Okay, she was just a pedestrian, nothing more. She proceeded with calm, walking near the wall of the building running along the street. She reached the corner of an alley and turned. She cast a fleeting glance behind her, and since she couldn’t see anybody, she started running.

  The roar of a sudden explosion echoed between the walls. Amelia bent down, as she felt the wind created by the blast reaching her from behind, but she didn’t stop.

  She had only one purpose now: getting away from there before the area was invaded by the police.

  People of every kind were looking out of the windows and doors, but she continued to go on, ignoring the onlookers who had started moving in the opposite direction. She didn’t know those streets well; she tried to head as far as possible from the explosion. The more the minutes passed, the more the streets became deserted.