"Are you OK?"
He feels a hand being placed gently on his shoulder and jumps.
"Oh, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was afraid you were having an asthmatic attack. My oldest son has asthma, so I always notice when I hear someone breathing with difficulty. But are you OK?"
Nathan nods and feels a wave of gratitude. Then he smiles sincerely.
"Yes, thank you. I was just struggling with a difficult decision."
She nods.
"Yes, I know how that feels, but I have realized that…"
She turns and walks over to the elevator. Without thinking, Nathan follows her. Then he understands why he didn’t hear her coming. She’s wearing sneakers. A very faint smell of sweat follows her. Nathan sniffs and finds the smell pleasant. Not bad and pungent but faint and feminine.
"…that the first impulse, for me anyway, has almost always turned out to be the right one. When I have changed it, it has often been changed into something that shouldn’t have been."
Nathan listens to her absentmindedly, but still her words get through to him. He looks at her face as he nods and smiles.
"We had actually decided not to have another baby because of the asthma in the family, but it just happened and my first thought was, that of course we were going to have that baby, and my intuitive answer was: Of course! We have never regretted that decision."
"Do you have any kids?"
Her face and her movements reveal how well-groomed she is. She has no make-up on but has dark eyelashes, either from color or mascara, just the way Denize preferred it. Nathan is surprised. In this city, you don’t often see women without make-up. She looks at him and asks again:
"Do you have kids?"
Nathan smiles.
"No, unfortunately we never had any. We met late in life."
They stop in front of the elevator and before Nathan can reach out and press the button, she has already done it.
"And none of you had any kids from previous relationships?"
Nathan studies her face and suddenly he wants so much to tell her his story. Then there’s a small sound and the elevator doors open. He just shakes his head.
"You look like someone who likes kids."
She turns and walks into the elevator. In the mirror, Nathan can see how tired he looks. His body is slightly bent and his eyes are dull. He twitches at the thought of the mirror in the apartment where he now knows that Evy lives, and trembles a little when he sees the images before him. There’s a firm grip on his arm.
"Are you sure you’re OK. You don’t seem OK."
Her brown eyes are warm and sincere and contradict how he already sees her, as a modern woman who’s a business woman at day and a mother at night. He has always thought that those women were faking their maternal feelings and judged them to be pretty hard on both their children and their husbands. Actually, the men in their lives were just something that came with the package, but now he’s not so sure. He nods.
"I’m OK."
He tries to smile.
"That must be a tough decision, not to have kids. Which floor?"
Nathan seems surprised, and she nods at the elevator buttons.
"Oh, yes, of course. Hang on."
He pulls himself together and starts to read the little signs next to the buttons. He spots Walter, Walter & Walter’s sign. Actually, their brass sign stands out from the rest because their name is longer than the others. He smiles. ”Clever, that way they’re sure to get noticed.”
"Oh, here it is."
He presses the button and waits for the red plastic circle around it to light up so he’s sure it’s activated. The woman looks at the button and the sign for a while and then looks directly at him. She is a classic beauty and the low light in the elevator does her face justice. He finally stops looking at his mirror image and looks straight at her. She looks away, puts her key in the lock, and presses the penthouse button. They drive up in silence. They are both looking down at the floor. When the elevator stops and Nathan steps out, he feels her hand on his arm again.
"It must be an important decision if you’re here to see them at this hour. Choose with your heart. It sees better. Good luck."
Another ping sound and she pulls back her hand and smiles as the elevator doors start to close.
"Nathan Wilkins?"
The receptionist is already standing next to him. Nathan looks at her and nods.
"They’re waiting for you."
With a movement of her hand, she shows him down the hall.
"Are the witnesses here as well?"
"Yes, I’m one of them."
She smiles shyly.
"I hope that’s OK."
She adds, clearly feeling embarrassed. She stops talking and smiles again, but it’s obvious to Nathan that her thoughts haven’t stopped.
"Of course, all the other necessary people are here as well."
She says quietly. She makes more hand gestures on their way down the hall, guiding him to the door at the end.
"I’ll be the one doing the writing, so I’ll just get my laptop. That way we can work simultaneously and print directly. I hope that works for you?"
"That sounds just fine. Thank you for staying this late."
She reacts almost as if he had punched her. Nathan holds his breath. The woman in the elevator had touched something inside him and activated something that suddenly felt natural to him. There’s a touch of insecurity about the young woman walking next to him. Maybe this is her first job. And, if he guessed it right, being praised or thanked was not something she was used to in this office. She stops and knocks at the door of one of the corner offices. Then she cautiously sticks her head inside before opening the door and showing Nathan in. For a moment, he looks down at the pale green carpet, pulling himself together. Then he looks up, smiles, and walks in with his hand out.
"Thank you for waiting. I really appreciate it. And I’m very sorry I’m late."
His voice reflects his profession and his experience, which makes the young girl give him an admiring look. He keeps up his routine and continues.
"I have chosen you because your reputation is unblemished, and this matter requires a firm that will follow the law and my wishes to the letter."
The young girl closes the door and hurries down the hall to get her laptop. Her face is beaming.
"Maybe this case will be the one that starts my career."
She whispers while straightening her pencil skirt.
Chapter 11
"Where are all the cabs?"
Eric pulls up his collar as he looks around, confused. He stays put, feeling how restless his body is. ”If only James hadn’t seen me.” He walks back and forth in front of the door a couple of times before stopping. ”Stuart I knew. But I don’t know James, and I don’t know what he’s capable of.” Eric looks up so the rain hits him in the face, and it’s as if his worries disappear one by one. He feels how the rain gets worse for a while before dying down to a light drizzle. Finally, after a long time, a cab drives by and the driver looks at him with disapproval. The water is dripping from him and he feels uncomfortable in his drenched clothes. The driver looks at him in the mirror.
"Where to?"
The driver’s voice is a little thick.
"Ah. Just drive downtown. I’ll guide you.”
The driver gives a tired shrug.
"Whatever you say."
Eric asks the driver to turn several times and each time he looks out the rear window. After a while, the driver gives up trying to follow Eric’s way of thinking and just obeys his orders. After nearly an hour, Eric is convinced no one is following them.
"Please stop at the corner over there."
The driver nods and pulls up at the curb. Eric looks at the meter and gives him a good tip. The driver nods and Eric is back in the rain which is getting worse again. He waits until the cab is gone. Then he starts to walk back in the direction they came from. The streets are empty, and he feels the rain running down hi
s neck and down his back. He stops outside his front door. He can’t see the doorman anywhere. Eric turns around one last time and looks back. The street is empty. He locks himself into the building and into his apartment. Without turning on the lights, he goes straight through the living room, takes the half empty vodka bottle, and puts it under his arm. Then he continues to the bathroom and picks up the glass of sleeping pills. When he closes the door of the small medicine cabinet, he catches a glimpse of himself. The bald spot on his head is clear against his dark, wet hair. It hurts his vanity. The dark rings around his eyes, his face that looks thin and unhealthy just as the investigator at the hospital had pointed out. He turns around and slams the bathroom door shut behind him. But the noise it makes and the power he uses doesn’t help him get rid of the feeling that’s eating him up. He takes off all of his clothes and drops them on the floor. Naked, he crawls under the covers and gathers the pillows behind him so he can sit up in the bed. Then he picks up the remote and switches on the TV. He sighs, feeling content as the sound of the TV finally drowns out the noise from the rain outside. He shuts out the world and loses himself in a sitcom about two men and a baby. When he has calmed down a little, he opens the vodka bottle and drinks directly from it. His throat burns as the vodka makes its way down and he makes a face when it hits his stomach. ”Ah, I should’ve eaten something on the way home.” He pushes his thoughts away and puts the bottle to his mouth again. He sees Evy’s face before him, and the small muscles around his mouth twitch. Annoyed, he throws his arm out and the vodka sloshes around in the bottle.
"Damn it! I have to grow up and be a man… a man who takes action and isn’t scared."
After shouting at himself, he drinks from the vodka bottle and almost empties it. He sits in the bed, staring at the TV with empty eyes.
"Maybe it’s time now..."
His voice is getting blurred from the vodka.
"…that I do something."
He looks at the glass of pills. Then he picks it up and holds it in his hand for a while.
"It’s time I call the shots. James has more to lose than me."
He opens the glass and takes out a pill, then he takes another one and almost throws them into his mouth and drinks the rest of the vodka. He stays there, holding the bottle in his hands as it rests in his lap. After a while he looks at it with surprise, dazed from the drinking.
"Oh, well, you were almost empty when we started."
His voice is almost a whisper and he slowly blinks his eyes.
"Or maybe not. Anyway, dear James. Now it’s your turn to be at the other end of the leash. Now I will be the one in charge."
He smacks his lips and tries to focus on the TV. His eyes slowly close and his breathing becomes slow and deep.
Chapter 12
The night and most of the morning had passed. Marc rests his head in his hands, gets up and looks out the window as he slowly puts on his suede jacket and leaves the room.
"Would you like a cup of coffee? It’s fresh."
Marc tries to smile, but it’s impossible, so he just nods.
"Here, come and sit down a little."
The nurse is down the hall, standing next to some wooden chairs that look really uncomfortable. When he sits down, she hands him a cup of coffee.
"Take some time before you leave. It’s an overwhelming experience."
He sips the hot coffee. It’s bitter and a little sticky from all the sugar in it.
"How do you feel?"
He is surprised when he looks up and recognizes the nurse from the night before. Now she has dark rings under her eyes.
"I feel strangely empty inside. I don’t know how to explain it."
The nurse nods.
"When did it happen?"
Marc is confused and looks at her.
"I don’t really know... Strange, I normally have a good sense of time."
He looks into his coffee and stirs it, even though the last thing he wants is to dissolve more sugar.
"It’s weird... It’s not that I didn’t know it would happen, but still it was so sudden."
"And then, how can I call it sudden. She’s been ill for a long time, and you told me there was nothing you could do."
He looks at her face and stops talking. Then he looks down at his worn suede shoes that are no longer the same color as they used to be. After a long time, he looks up at her again.
"I’m ashamed to say it, but I’m actually relieved."
He swallows.
"I really do. For the last couple of months, I’ve known that it could happen any time, but still I was surprised when it happened last night. Somehow, I expected everything to just go on as usual, and that she would be back in her flat in a couple of weeks."
"Death always comes as a surprise even when you’re expecting it."
"Is it always like that?"
She nods and takes the cup from him. The coffee has gone cold.
"Go home and get some sleep. You’ve been up all night."
He nods and gets up slowly.
"What do you do now, in a situation like this? I mean..."
He sighs and goes on.
"There’s all the practical stuff."
The nurse smiles and then she gently shakes her head.
"Your mother has taken care of all that. I had a talk with her when she came in a couple of weeks ago. I’ll show you."
She quickly walks into the room again.
"I cared about your mother a great deal. As much as one can in a situation like this."
Her voice fades and she opens a cupboard.
"I know she was prepared for this. She hadn’t forgotten what it was like when she lost her own parents, and she didn’t want you to have the same practical difficulties."
She’s back next to him.
"Here you go."
She takes his hands and places a stack of papers in them.
"I knew she kept them in her closet. She asked me to give them to you when it happened. She has taken care of everything."
She leans over a little and flicks through the papers he’s holding.
"Here."
She pulls out a piece of paper. He’s gasping for breath.
"Yes, your mother wrote everything by hand. It’s probably not easy for you to read her handwriting."
She pads his right arm softly.
"Call him."
She points at a name.
"He will take care of everything."
"Strange."
He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment.
"It must have been strange for her to arrange her own funeral."
The nurse pads him on the shoulder.
"I’ll get you another cup of coffee."
He nods silently as he just looks at the papers in his hands. When the nurse passes one of her colleagues, she answers the unasked question in her eyes.
"His mother just died."
She holds out the cold cup to her.
"I’ll get him some fresh coffee."
Marc jumps when the sound of his phone suddenly breaks the silence in the hospital corridor, and, feeling almost scared, he looks around him. The officer further down the hall looks at him attentively and they exchange a quick look before Marc nods at him and takes out his phone from his pocket.
"Yes."
His voice is hardly more than a whisper and no one answers.
"Hello."
Marc can sense some noise.
"Come on, I’m in the hospital. My mother just died, so if you want something, come out and say it. I don’t have the patience for this."
Still nothing even though Marc had spoken with a loud and clear voice.
"OK. I’ll hang up then."
He has already taken the phone away from his ear when he hears the voice. It sounds familiar.
"I can’t hear you. The connection is bad. Can you speak up?"
Marc’s eyes wander down the hall. The officer is still looking at him. Marc nods again and forces himself to smile.
Marc looks down at the brown linoleum which isn’t helping to lighten up the dullness of the corridor.
"Yes, I got the name. I know who he is."
He breathes in and out a couple of times.
"When would you like me to start the surveillance of him?"
He looks at the toes of his shoes.
"Now?!"
He breathes a few times again.
"It’ll have to wait a couple of hours. I need to get some sleep."
He looks at his watch.
"It’s a quarter past ten."
He looks up at the officer down the hall.
"I can start around seven tonight."
He notices that the officer moves around restlessly and on stiff legs.
"OK, let’s say that. But I have to sleep from time to time."
He holds the phone out from his ear and looks at it.
"Is this your number?"
Marc sighs and his voice is irritated.
"Don’t call me from a phone with caller ID and think that I can’t see your number. Call me nerdy about my job, but that’s how it is. Is this the number you want me to call with information?"
He smiles a little to himself.
"OK. If you want a report…"
He stops in the middle of the sentence.
"…then you’ll have to send me an email address I can send my weekly report to. The address is on my card. My fee is also to be paid weekly. I’ll send you the account number together with the report. Me fee is… All right… Goodb… All right then."
He looks at the phone shaking his head before he puts it back in his pocket.
The officer takes a quick look at his watch, before pulling the sleeve back over it looking annoyed. He puts his hands to his lower back and bends backwards. The elevator doors open. The sound seems to fill the hall and the man in the suede jacket further down the hall looks up from his phone to watch the man getting out of the elevator. For a moment the two men look at each other.
Devil's Touch Page 12
