Devil's Touch

by Tina Lindegaard

  She smiles at him.

  "The pills will make up for it."

  "The bathroom. Where is it? Is it in connection to the bedroom?"

  Eric tries to smile and slowly raises his hand and points.

  "There."

  His arm falls back down into his lap.

  "Ouch."

  Eric lets out a stupid grin, and confirms her expectations. She slowly bends down and takes the champagne bottle. Eric’s eyes follow her every move.

  "Are you coming?"

  He still stares at her with unfocused eyes.

  "Come on."

  She takes his hand and pulls him up from the couch. She has to use all her strength. She holds his hand and pulls him after her.

  "Is that for the music?"

  She nods at the remote control on the armrest of the couch. Eric blinks slowly.

  "Put some music on."

  He fumbles with the remote and music pours out from the concealed speakers.

  "Louder."

  He looks at her, not understanding.

  "Turn up the music."

  He shrugs and turns up the volume.

  "Come on."

  Her eyes find the clock again. Five past twelve.

  "Come on."

  She pulls at him hard, but he doesn’t move. She turns to face the window and looks at the buildings across the street, before she slowly studies the apartment building that fills up the right side of the window. Then she turns back to face him and pushes him back down on the couch with a smile. She puts down the champagne and lets her coat fall down over one shoulder. Eric sighs.

  "Finally."

  His head falls back a little, but he manages to keep it straight. She lets the coat fall to the floor, runs one hand over her bottom and bends over backwards. Eric lets out a grunt and he puts his hand on his stomach. When the pain rushes through him, it’s as if everything explodes in a sea of light. She looks down at him. His head is lying in a strange angle, but she can see his pulse on his neck. She looks down at the bottle. Only the neck is intact and its sharp ends are covered in blood. He doesn’t move, put she can still see his pulse. She puts the bottle neck down on the floor and bends over him. Slowly, she presses one of the pillows from the couch against his face, but the pulse is still beating on his neck, now covered in blood from his face. She looks away and focuses on the clock on the wall before closing her eyes and pushing the pillow down harder. When she opens her eyes again, the first thing she sees is the clock. It’s now a quarter past twelve. She looks down on Eric’s neck. The pulse is gone and the line of blood seems strangely empty, as if it has been drained and only its outlines are visible. She leaves the pillow over his face and bends down to pick up her coat. Then she slowly gets up, puts the coat back on and tightens the belt hard. She turns away from him and closes the tin can before putting it in her pocket. She picks up the bottle neck from the floor and walks around the glass table, while bits of glass are crunching under her shoes. She stops in front of the door and takes out a small black nylon package with a zipper. She looks down, pulls the zipper and unfolds a shopping bag. She puts the bottle neck, the foil and the metal wire in the bag and then opens the door with her sleeve of her coat, and, not bothering to close the door behind her, she walks quickly down the hall towards the elevator. She pulls down the sleeve of her coat so it covers her hand before pushing the button, when a rhythmical, metallic sound reaches her ears. She looks down at her shoes and sees the white spots from the powder mixed with dark stains of blood. The elevator doors open and a warm, sweet, slightly dry smell hits her in the face. Instinctively, she touches her nose, gets in and pushes the button before she carefully puts down the shopping bag on the floor. The sound of the walker gets higher, and as the elevator doors close, she sees the outline of the old woman. She sighs and notices the smell in the elevator again. ”I know that smell. Perfume.” She can feel the elevator slowing down and she picks up the bag and concentrates. The doors open and she steps out, ”someone used to... probably someone still does – wear nothing else at night.” She smiles. The lobby is empty and she hears the elevator closing behind her.

  Chapter 18

  A soft click lets him know that the limo is open and he’s already got his hand on the handle when the phone rings. He looks at the phone, but doesn’t recognize the number.

  "Yes."

  He listens.

  "Yes, it’s been taken care of."

  He waits, slowly getting annoyed at the silence on the other end.

  "Yes, everything has been cleaned up."

  He lets go of the door and looks at his wristwatch while sitting down on the car with one leg resting on the fender of the limo.

  "The deal is on and the first step is concluded now. The other one in a moment."

  He can hear the sound of an ambulance.

  "Correction. Probably now."

  He listens.

  "The usual account. We’re always at your service and will go anywhere, anytime and in any way the client wants. Hmm."

  He gets more comfortable and looks over at the entrance he has just walked out of.

  "Goodbye."

  He puts his hand down in his inside pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Slowly he opens the pack, puts a cigarette in his mouth and lights it. Then he takes out the phone he has just stolen from his pants pocket. He takes out the SIM card and holds his lighter under it. There’s a smell of burning electronics. Annoyed he throws it on the ground when he burns himself. A few seconds later, he picks it up and quickly wipes the phone clean with a tissue from the glove compartment. Then he places the phone under the front wheel of the car and wraps the burned SIM card in the cellophane from the cigarette pack so it forms a small ball in his hand. He puts the rest of the cigarettes in his pocket and puts the ball in the empty pack. Then he takes out a needle with a small plastic container from his pocket. The plastic container is no bigger than the cap of a marker. He looks at it for a while, and then places it in the empty pack of cigarettes, crunches it up and throws it in the nearest garbage can. The ambulance drives up and parks in front of him. He looks at his watch.

  "About time."

  He moves slowly and calmly and sits back down on the fender as he looks impatiently at his watch. The garbage truck is slowly coming closer, much too slowly in his opinion. It finally comes to a halt by the garbage can next to him. The two garbage men look straight at the driver.

  "Are you just leaving?"

  He shakes his head. Then one of the men get out of the truck and walks toward the garbage can. The driver quickly opens the door to the limo and gets out the black nylon shopping bag. He throws it in the garbage can and sits back down on the fender following every move of the garbage man. The garbage man glances over at the driver, but then quickly removes the bag in the can and replaces it before throwing the bag into the back of the truck.

  "I think you need to turn on the shredder or else you’ll drop some of the garbage. It’s almost falling out.”

  The garbage man shakes his head.

  "There’s no need for that."

  The driver still has the cigarette between his lips as he nods.

  "You’ll drop something for sure."

  The man looks at the driver and then pushes the button and starts the shredder.

  "Only trying to help."

  The door of the garbage truck slams shut and the two garbage men look at each other and shake their heads. The driver opens the door of the limo and sees that the paramedics are finally leaving the airport with the stretcher between them. He immediately recognizes her. She looks at him and he can see that her lips are moving.

  "Yes, I know girl. But no one will understand you."

  He feels a whoosh when the garbage truck passes very close to him, but he only smiles. The doors of the ambulance close, and it leaves the airport with the sirens on. Feeling very content, he quickly gets in to the car, rolls down the window and backs up until the crunching sound stops. Then he changes g
ear and drives away while checking in the rear window to see that the phone has been entirely destroyed.

  There’s a small draft and the smell of oil is strong, but it’s quiet. It takes a couple of minutes for her eyes to get used to the dimly lit underground parking lot. She steps away from the elevator and stands in the shadow as she listens carefully. She recognizes the sound and steps out from the shadows. For a moment she gets scared when the limo doesn’t stop and she walks quickly after it. Then it stops and she tears the door open, jumps in and slams the door.

  "What was that about?!"

  Her voice is shrill as she throws the black shopping bag on the floor. The dark window opens almost silently and the driver turns around in his seat.

  "Is it done?"

  She nods.

  "Where are my clothes?"

  He nods at the floor to her left.

  "The ticket and the money are there too."

  She grabs the bag and pulls out the clothes. Her hands are shaking when she opens the envelope. She pulls out the bills and starts stacking them on the leather seat next to her as she counts them.

  "It’s all there. You don’t have to count it."

  She shrugs and keeps counting.

  "You couldn’t have given me some bigger bills?"

  He shrugs.

  "Money is money."

  She stares at him with angry eyes and puts the first stack back in the envelope. The limo quickly glides through the traffic while rain clouds gather over the city. She puts the final stack into the envelope.

  "Was is all there?"

  His eyes are resting on her thighs which are almost fully exposed while she looks at the ticket.

  "Are you clean?"

  "Close the window. I need to get dressed."

  "How far along are you?"

  "How many times do I have to tell you?! I’m not pregnant! Close the window!”

  "Glad to hear it. It makes things easier."

  "Makes things easier?! But you’re not involved!"

  She stares at him angrily while he activates the button and the tinted window slowly closes. He speeds up while keeping an eye on the clock in the dashboard. The traffic thins out and for the rest of the trip the window stays up. He slows down as they approach the airport and soon comes to a halt in front of the entrance. He gets out quickly and takes out her bags from the trunk. She walks over to him and starts opening one of the bags.

  "You’d better keep the money on you in the airport and on the plane. It would be stupid to get caught with so much money in your bags in case they check them."

  She looks at him for a long time, and then she puts the envelope in her pocket. She hesitates for a while before giving him the tin can. He stares at her in disbelief and then he shakes his head.

  "In the bag!"

  "You put it in the bag."

  He shakes his head, stares intently at her, then takes a firm grip on her elbow and leads her over to the car door which he opens routinely.

  "In the bag."

  She leans into the car and strands of hair come loose from her pony tail. He hears the sound of metal against glass and sees how her coat rides up taking her t-shirt with it and leaving the pale skin at the edge of her jeans exposed. Then she stands up and looks thoughtfully at him and turns on her heels and walks away. He smiles and follows her. She opens one of her bags.

  "You haven’t put anything in here that’ll get me stopped in security, have you?"

  He shakes his head indifferently.

  "That was the last favor you owed me."

  "I never owed you anything."

  He sighs.

  "Hmm. Call it what you want."

  He gets brutally cut off, but goes on.

  "Go home to your parents and forget all about this. You have enough money."

  He looks at his watch and she follows his eyes.

  "Almost two thirty. Time to make the call."

  "What call?! Come on, you don’t care enough to actually make me call my parents."

  "No of course not. I want you to call the police."

  She looks surprised.

  "And what do you want me to tell them?"

  "Just call them up anonymously and report the murder."

  "Turn myself in?! Are you nuts?!"

  "You just said that I’m off the hook. Nothing more I need to do."

  His face changes and she takes another step back.

  "Just make the call. It’s OK. You can always throw the phone away later."

  She looks around. There’s people everywhere around them. She lowers her shoulders a little as she looks at him.

  "Remember, the airport is full of cameras."

  He looks at her for a long time and then opens the door to the front seat.

  "The phone is in the glove compartment."

  She looks at him for a while.

  "Just remember that I know you’ve committed a murder. You just confirmed that."

  He blinks at her. She closes her eyes and shakes her head. Then she gets into the car and opens the glove compartment. Next to the gun there’s a phone just like he said.

  "Hmm, tell me something…"

  She turns to face him.

  "…Stuart Pettersson is dead now."

  He looks at her attentively.

  "I used to deliver…"

  She nods at the bag.

  "…to an apartment down town. His… Stuart Pettersson’s I found out. You know how fast the gossip columns work. Behind him in the apartment I saw a young girl that night. She had dark hair. Pretty actually, but young. Maybe at an age where you would start asking some questions.”

  The driver starts to push the door back and forth just a little.

  "I saw her on the street later. She wasn’t beautiful anymore. She had dark rings under her eyes and was way too thin. She was going to hell fast."

  She stops and he is visibly annoyed.

  "What do you want to know?"

  "How come she ended up in his net?"

  "How should I know?"

  She smiles.

  "I have done my homework. You have been his driver for years and now you’re James Schmidt’s preferred driver. Strange!"

  He breathes heavily.

  "I don’t work for any of them. I work for a small company."

  "Hmm. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re the one driving them around.”

  "Well, a lot of people are ready to talk for the right price."

  She touches her coat pocket slightly. The driver knocks his finger against the car door a couple of times and breathes in deeply. He looks down at her.

  "Stuart had a thing for young girls."

  "Let’s call them very young."

  He tightens his grip on the door so his knuckles turn white.

  "Especially a pair of girls who were almost the same age. One was dark and one was fair."

  "Poetic."

  He stares at her intensely.

  "They lived with their mother in a cute little yellow house."

  He blinks at her before going on.

  "We often drove by the playground and often stopped there."

  "The playground?! That young."

  "He sometimes got out and sat down on a bench to look at them. They were usually together on the playground, but one time the dark haired one had run home and he disappeared with the fair one."

  He can hear how she moves around in her seat, but he keeps looking at her.

  "When she was a teenager, he managed to persuade the dark haired one."

  He stops and stands up straight.

  "The first time I drove her home from the apartment, I could see that she’d been crying. Stuart had taken her down to the car."

  He looks away briefly and then back at her.

  "He looked very pleased.”

  He looks at her for a little while before continuing.

  "She died from an overdose..."

  "Now, make the call!"

  She slams the door closed, but right away he ope
ns it a little.

  "What is it now?"

  "I want to hear what you say to them."

  She dials the number and waits.

  "There’s a dead man in..."

  The driver scans the parking lot around them and stops when he sees the garbage truck slowly approaching. She opens the door and gets out.

  "Let’s get you sent off."

  "What about the phone?”

  "Throw it in a garbage can inside."

  "But..."

  "There’s so many people that no one will notice. And nobody calls up that phone."

  They speak no more of it and he gives her his hand to say goodbye. She feels a sting in the palm of her hand and quickly pulls it back.

  "Ouch."

  She stares at him hatefully, but he just smiles at her. He elegantly picks up her bags and shows her the way, professionally taking on the part of limo driver.

  "Come on, we need to hurry."

  She looks around but doesn’t move. He quickly touches her arm and leads her the short distance to the departure hall. When they reach the counter, he puts down her bags and gets very close to her.

  "You don’t have to stand so close."

  She looks at him full of hate and pulls away.

  "Sorry miss, I didn’t mean to. We’ll send you the bill. Goodbye."

  A cold feeling rushes over her as he turns and leaves her there.

  "He had some nerve."

  She looks at the older woman who is now standing behind her.

  "Did he jump the line?"

  She leans against the counter and watches the woman speak, but doesn’t understand the words. She touches her pockets, but there’s no phone and no money. She opens her mouth but he’s gone - disappeared in the crowd. She can’t speak and collapses without being able to send out the scream she so desperately wants to.

  Chapter 19

  It’s long past midnight. The papers have been signed and certified when he steps into the elevator as he says goodbye to the young girl thanking her for her help again. He holds back the elevator doors several times and keeps giving her tips that will help her last for a long time in the business. He gives her a couple of names to contact where her career chances will be better because they are smaller places than Walter, Walter & Walter. When he finally stops talking, she promises him that she will stay in touch and let him know how she’s doing. Finally, the elevator doors close and he’s alone. He is scared by the sight of his own reflection. There is no life in his eyes, his skin looks grey in spite of his tan, and his body has collapsed even more in the last few hours. In spite of all this, he feels happy and content. When he gets into his car he’s overwhelmed by how tired he is and falls asleep.