Devil's Touch

by Tina Lindegaard

  With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Nathan looks at the picture of the two girls in their summer dresses, smiling on the steps in front of the yellow house. Nathan shakes his head.

  "I have a step daughter. A little piece of Denize."

  "I made sure she got into the best schools, had the right friends, and was invited to the right parties. She blossomed and turned into a beautiful woman. You’ve even met her."

  Nathan swallows. He breathes heavily, tapping the edge of the paper against the side of his hand.

  "In fact, her sister’s death and her mother’s decline made things a lot easier for me than I could ever have imagined. Evy isn’t stupid, you know. She’s ambitious and wants the good life and is willing to pay a high price to get it. A perfect combination for me. I made sure she was at the party, and that I was there too. Beautiful woman, beautiful. It was a pleasure. I really enjoyed that evening, pulling her in little by little before I struck. Pure power. Power, Nathan. You know the feeling and you enjoy it too. No reason to lie about it.”

  Nathan crumbles up the letter and throws it away as if it burns his hand. He steps away from it and his breathing becomes more and more frantic. He shakes his head as he walks around his desk. His eyes never leave the balled up letter. Because of the thick carpet, it seems to hover over the floor. Nathan leans on his desk as he starts to feel dizzy. ”I’m hyperventilating. I have to stop.” He leans back, supporting himself on his arms. His head has fallen to his chest and his body is tense. He focuses on his breath, which gradually gets slower and returns to a rhythm almost close to normal. He stands up and notices how blood is seeping through the bandage on top of his hand. There’s a blood stain on the desk as well. He looks at the letter for a long time before finally and laboriously bending over to pick it up.

  "Ok, Nathan, no more detours. Evy also put up a fight, you know. When she saw herself in the mirror. You know the big one in the bedroom."

  Nathan makes a sound almost like a sob. He clearly remembers the mirror. A proud Stuart had shown him around in the apartment when he had bought it all those years ago. Stuart had gone into great detail, and Nathan had thought that his behavior was strange. There had been an underlying tone that he had never heard before. It was as if Stuart wanted Nathan to know every corner of the apartment. Nathan didn’t really care much about the place, but he had been politely interested and even made a joke about the size of the mirror and the fact that it was placed in the bedroom. Just a few months later, Stuart had invited him back to the apartment to show him his latest investment. That was what he called the woman in the apartment. Stuart had said that he needed to keep the cost of this investment down, so he needed a co-investor. When Nathan had realized what Stuart meant by that, he had politely declined the offer.

  "But she stopped fighting it, and I didn’t have to be as rough with her as with Denize. Which was a shame, really. I had been picturing it for all those years, since she was nine. But, I guess you win some and lose some. I invited her to stay and paid for her. But only until she had gotten used to the good life, and it had become vital to her. Then came her big test, but you didn’t want to be part of that."

  When he understands what the words mean, Nathan feels sick, and he puts his hand over his mouth. He can still feel how his cheeks are burning and sweat has started to form on his forehead.

  "Once again, Denize ruined things for me. It would have been so right if you had been the one that made her what she is today: Paid for by men. Not just one man, but men, Nathan, men. My revenge over Denize. My revenge. But you ruined that part of it.

  My revenge over you, Nathan, for taking Denize from me. How can I not want revenge? Here it is: I have left a letter with Walter, Walter & Walter with some of the cases you fixed for me. I have even said that it was you that fixed the case with the missing payments for the apartments by the waterfront. You know that Walter, Walter & Walter are honest people who will protect the legal system tooth and nail. I expect them to report you."

  ”Oh, and from now on Evy has to live for the small sum that you give her every month. Only she can’t, not with the life style she has thrown herself on the bed for all these years. She will probably start looking for a new play mate. And you turned her down at that party in the harbor over a sick Denize. Have all your desires left you after you met Denize? Anyway, with Evy you can still have Denize, or at least part of her. Think about that.

  Have a nice life.

  Stuart”

  Nathan is in shock. He puts the letter down on the desk and walks over to the window, with his hands in his pockets. Marc’s car is gone, and Nathan has no idea when that has happened, or if Marc was really just taking pictures of the bird.

  Chapter 6

  The front door closes with a bang. It’s dark when Evy is back in the living room, a room that has never felt like hers. The curtains and the furniture are much too heavy for a woman her age, and some of the furniture have clearly been there for a very long time. The curtains were already in the apartment when she moved in, and from the beginning they had seemed like they were only there to keep other people from looking in. The apartment has always seemed strange to her, as if it didn’t belong to her in any way. It’s just a place where she happens to be staying at the moment. She puts down the sunglasses and the credit card on the coffee table and drops down in a chair. The chair is a little springy and she feels how she is being pushed up slightly before she settles into it. As her eyes trace the city’s skyline, she can see the horizon in the distance. The planes are lined up for landing in the airport, like pearls on a string. She smiles a strange smile. ”How many times have I watched the planes, but I’ve never been in one myself. Ironic would be a nice way to put it.”

  The afternoon, which she had expected to spend with friends, had ended with an unpleasant surprise. She puts her hands behind her head and wonders if they are really her friends, considering the way they had treated her. She hadn’t told anyone what had happened. She knew that most of them knew Stuart through their families, but she had never as much as indicated what the nature of their relationship was. But today they seemed distant and they didn’t seem to care about anything she said – at times they were even arrogant to her. She scratches her head with a finger. ”Hmm, it actually started two weeks ago.” She stops scratching. ”Two weeks ago, how strange!” She pushes her head against the back of the chair. ”But today it was downright degrading and embarrassing at times.”

  She slowly gets up and walks into the kitchen where she removes the cork from a bottle of red wine. The sound makes her smile. She carefully puts down the long stemmed glass on the table and makes a little snorting sound.

  "Wineglasses are the only investment I have made in this apartment."

  She fills the glass to the brim, and sits down in the chair again. She sighs when her mind registers the taste of red wine, and her breathing gets slower. She takes another large sip and closes her eyes. Last night, she had a new customer. James had recommended her to him. Actually, he had none of the same ideas and fantasies as Stuart or James, which came as a surprise to her. He was a nice, polite man who seemed to respect her. It was so overwhelming, that she had almost cried when she had let him out. No bruises that she had to try and hide with make up the next day, no pain after being beaten, no pictures in her head that would haunt her for days if she didn’t keep her mind busy or numbed it with something. She flicks the glass, and the fine sound makes her smile. She takes another sip before she leans forward and pushes the glass to the middle of the table where she can’t reach it from the chair. Not really focusing, she looks at the city lights and thinks about the man from last night.

  "What are you doing, Evy?!"

  She pulls her ear lobe as she leans forward. Then she picks up the glass and takes another big sip. She looks down into the glass, swings the wine around and takes another sip and then another. The glass is empty. Her breathing gets heavier and she gets up slowly, trying to forget about yesterday. With determined s
teps, she walks back into the kitchen and soon she is back at the window with a full glass. ”They had seemed annoyed…. no, they had seemed like they didn’t care – arrogant.” She sits down, less careful this time, and the wine spills over and runs down the side of the glass before dripping from its foot. Evy watches the drops as they fall, shrugs and moves her legs to one side, so the wine spills onto the chair. She wipes the foot of the glass clean with her hand and then puts it down on her thigh. She smiles a little, ”but what really got to me, was when Susan asked me how I was going to make a living now that Stuart is dead.”

  Her phone rings in the bedroom and makes her turn her head. She blinks before she gets up to answer it in time.

  "Hello."

  She listens for a while.

  "Hang on."

  She puts down the phone on the bed side table and walks into the living room. She walks back and forth taking one sip after another from the glass. The glass is almost empty when she slowly returns to the bedroom. With care, she puts down the glass on the bed side table, but is still makes a sound against the marble surface. She holds the phone to her hear, but before she has time to say something, she hears the voice on the other end of the line.

  "Yes, James, I’m alone."

  She makes a face as she listens to the voice.

  "I’m alone!"

  There is a menacing tone in her voice. She makes a violent gesture with her one hand.

  "I’m telling you. I’m alone. What do you want? Surveillance??"

  She bites her lip and turns her head away. ”Why did I use that word? What if he says yes?” She speaks quickly.

  "No, James. You’ll have to send a car and find a hotel room."

  The intensity in James’ voice makes her body twitch uncontrollably.

  "Hmm. Yes, I realize that I can’t make a living from the money Stuart gives me, but how do you know anything about that?"

  James doesn’t answer her.

  "I’ll be ready in two hours."

  She smiles with resignation when the voice gets angry again.

  "Beauty takes time."

  Evy holds the phone away from her ear.

  "James, I’m alone! What does it matter, anyway? Like you said, I need more money than Stuart gives me. Send a car. I’ll be ready in two hours."

  She’s angry and breaks off the call and stares at the phone. She knows that her breathing is much too fast. She walks to the kitchen, almost running, the glass clinks when she puts it down on the granite surface. She cuts her finger on the corkscrew in the drawer.

  ”OUCH!”

  She pulls back her hand but holds on to the corkscrew and reaches for the unopened bottle. A small sound when the cork leaves the bottle and she fill the glass to the rim. Back in the living room with her full glass she slowly gains control over her breathing again. Then she sits down in the chair and sighs. She feels the soft chair against her back as she tries to calm herself, but glimpses of previous encounters with James keep turning up in her head.

  "I can’t stand him!"

  Her body reacts so violently that she spills wine on herself. She raises her eyebrows and takes a big sip. She makes a face. ” I should have let it breathe longer, it’s not good!” The phone rings again and she jumps up from the chair and grabs it. She lets her head fall back. ”Oh, please let him cancel!” She takes a deep breath and looks at the phone.

  "Hmm, I don’t know that number. Yes…"

  She speaks as she gets back in the chair, all the while trying to balance the wine glass. It’s quiet on the other end of the line, only the faint sound of someone breathing.

  "Is anybody there?"

  The wine has affected her voice, and it sounds more open and friendly than she had expected, even though it’s a little slurred.

  "Excuse me?"

  The voice on the phone sounds much younger than James’, and Evy realizes that it isn’t him who’s calling to cancel. Like flicking on a switch, her body gets all tense again.

  "Who is it?"

  Her voice is shrill and she looks at the city lights, her eyes trying to find something to rest on. But the lights are just sharp and piercing.

  "Evy, is that you?"

  The man sounds insecure and she stays silent.

  "So it’s true what they say. I didn’t believe them, but the air has been thick with rumors for the last two weeks."

  The voice stops and Evy turns cold.

  "Eric...?"

  Evy’s voice fades away. She had always liked him. He’s one of her best friends and he hadn’t been at the lunch earlier today.

  "Damn it, Evy! Why didn’t you tell me?! I got this number from a mutual friend when he thought I needed some female company. It’s a while ago, but… Evy… I don’t know what to say."

  "Then don’t say anything, Eric."

  "Evy, I don’t understand..."

  He stops and Evy hears him breathing.

  "Maybe I don’t want to understand, but I would’ve liked to know."

  He’s quiet again.

  "So the looks men gave you when we were out together? They didn’t look because you’re beautiful, but because they recognized you? Oh, Evy!"

  "Eric?"

  Evy’s voice is just a whisper.

  "Who gave you this number?"

  "Stuart Pettersson. Months ago."

  The line is quiet again.

  "Actually, I had forgotten all about it, but because his name has been in the papers a lot after he died, I remembered. I’ve always felt that Stuart would only have the best, and… Oh, sorry, Evy! I didn’t mean it like that. I’m…"

  Evy can hear him breathing again.

  "I had an accident in my car around five years ago. I was at a party where Stuart also was. It was a wild party."

  Silence again.

  "I was drinking and, well, I guess we’re being honest, I also took some drugs. I was not in any shape to drive, but Stuart kept pressuring me – he wanted me to drive him home.”

  Evy hears small rustling sounds that tell her Eric is moving around.

  "To this day, I don’t know why I drove through that neighborhood."

  She can almost picture Eric shrugging as he always does when he tries to explain something.

  "I really don’t know. I hit a woman…. she broke both legs."

  Eric’s voice breaks and he finally lets go of his feelings which is so unlike him.

  "Stuart later told me she was paralyzed."

  It’s quiet again, not even any rustling sounds.

  "Stuart was quick to get the limo to the site and get me out of there. I know he must have paid someone. I just know it. Stuart later testified that the car had been stolen from the parking lot at the place the party was held. That we could never have left in it, and that’s why we had called for the limo. The driver confirmed his story. Nothing more ever happened, and I was home free. My parents never found out. But I owed Stuart a favor and he made me pay over and over again. He’s pressured me ever since. Every time I thought we were even, he came up with something new. Evy, I didn’t have the guts to go up against him, and I have never been able to tell my parents. And then..."

  The rustling noises are back.

  "Then Stuart started telling me about his connections in the media world… and the police."

  A deep sigh reaches Evy through the phone line.

  "I have a feeling that the woman is no longer alive. A year ago, I tried to find her, but she’s gone. Evy..."

  His voice has a strange sound she has never heard before. Eric is quiet, and Evy realizes how quiet the living room is. The sound of the traffic down in the street is very far away.

  "But my parents never found out, and now he’s dead. I guess that means it stops now."

  Eric is silent once again.

  "I never knew what he was going to ask me to do next."

  She bites her lip and it starts bleeding again. ”As if I don’t know the feeling...”

  "Evy, one of the favors he asked me to do was to make s
ure you got to know my friends. I was to arrange for you to be invited to the parties. I don’t understand why. Where did he know you from?

  She feels like someone has just hit her in the stomach. Something is very wrong, like when there’s only one single red ball in a basket full of blue ones.

  "Evy?"

  She doesn’t say anything.

  "If you don’t want to tell me..."

  She breathes heavily and bites her lip again, trying to make the pain stop the memories from breaking through.

  "Eric, I don’t know where he knew me from."

  "That can’t be true!"

  "The first time I met Stuart was at the party at your place. I don’t remember ever having talked to him before then."

  "Stuart took you home that night. And?"

  Evy is quiet.

  "And? Evy?"

  "And... Eric, don’t ask me to do this..."

  "What is that? Is there someone on the other line?"

  Evy holds out the phone. ”James.”

  "Eric, please don’t hang up. I have to get this. I…, please stay on the line, OK?"

  It’s quiet.

  "Eric, please!"

  But there is no answer. She puts him on hold and takes the other call.

  "Hello James."

  Her voice is reserved. At first there’s no answer.

  "It’s not James. It’s his driver."

  His voice makes Evy shiver. She remembers him and the bag of white powder all too clearly.

  "Yes. How can you call from James’ number?"

  "He always calls from here. From the limo."

  Silence.

  "He’s on his way up to you."

  "So you drove for both Stuart and James?"