It was a Sunday. Claudia had chosen the day she most loved and waited to be alone in the house of her dreams; then, as a cry lets out a repressed desire, she went up to the roof and launched herself into the air, savoring the freshness and dreaming for the first time that she was finally cured. The fall did the rest, taking her swiftly to the darkest place ever created by space. She died instantly. From the look on her face, she had found the peace she had hoped for. That was the only thing Jonathan managed to see, and the only life-line he could clutch to carry on and try to give their seven-year-old son the life he deserved, battling against a fate that had decided to show him the most terrible aspect existence can create.
The door opened. The person who entered showed all the signs of fatigue that racing up two floors of stairs brings. His face was covered with mud, but it was obvious from his radiant expression that he had thoroughly enjoyed the whole morning.
“Dad, I’m hungry.”
There was no answer to that; a wish is a command.
“Be with you in a minute, son. I didn’t realize it was so late.”
“What were you doing? Talking to Mom?”
“I sure was, she said to say hello to you and to be a good boy. So, run along and wash up before dinner.”
“But is she going to eat with us?”
“She certainly is. She’s always with us. She told me she fancies hamburger and French fries this evening. What do you say?”
“Yeeees! Hooray for Mom!”
Three years had passed; he had tried to explain to his son that his mother was always there with him, even though he couldn’t see her. “But I can see her. She always comes to visit me,” he had replied calmly.
Hope was the only thing Jonathan still believed in. He had no faith; he had sold that to the highest bidder the moment he and his wife had discovered that the child they were expecting had an illness that could only be cured by divine intervention. Claudia had insisted on carrying the pregnancy to term at all costs, even though she already knew that her life would inevitably change. But she was convinced that a mother cannot choose her child, she can only love him. Unconditionally, uncomplainingly and hopefully. So, that was what she had decided to do, against the wishes of her husband, who was equally convinced that a sick child would have neither purpose nor a proper future in a world that ignored what was different. Although he was certain her decision was a mistake, he had supported the woman who showed more courage than he could ever imagine. The boy had a heart malformation that would cut short his life before he reached adulthood. Even simple exhaustion could be fatal and fate would carry him off in the blink of an eye.
After he was born, Claudia’s mood swung from euphoria to despondence, a gift from the various doctors they consulted, who succeeded in destroying all the dreams only a mother can wish for. Until the pain became unbearable, and she begged for salvation one cold winter Sunday morning.
Jonathan walked down the stairs and told his son to sit down. His favorite dish would be ready in just a few minutes.
“Dad, do you miss Mom?”
“Of course I miss her. Why do you ask?”
“Because I feel it, you know? I always know when you’re sad. I wish I could do something to help you. When I’m sad, I think of the day I’ll see her again, so I’m not sad anymore.”
“Well, young man, I know it’ll happen one day, but sometimes we grown-ups don’t know how to be patient.”
“I’m patient though. Mom always said: ‘You have to be a good boy and be patient. You mustn’t tire yourself out.’ You should try it. It works, you know.”
“All right, Norman. But come here now. Professor Tickle told me he wants to talk to you about a new exercissssse...”
He grabbed Norman. He liked tickling him, and Norman liked playing with his father. As Jonathan watched him laughing, he thought once more how marvelous life was, as seen through the eyes of a child. He would have liked to be able to see like that again, but no longer had the will; he was convinced that fate was spying on him and at the first sign of happiness would arrive out of the blue in the dead of night and carry off the only light he had left.
Chapter 4
Norman approached the table. The three women threw him such sly looks that he was disconcerted. The man gestured for him to join them.
“Good morning, Mr. Lae. It’s been a long wait, but here you are at last.”
“Do I know you? Because I have the feeling you were waiting for me. Who was that man who told me to follow him?”
“My dear friend, all in good time. My name is Luc. Please sit down and we’ll satisfy your curiosity.”
The man’s voice had a familiar ring and conveyed a wonderful sense of peace. Norman accepted the invitation and sat down beside the blonde woman, who had drawn up a chair for him in the meantime. His mind projected indecent thoughts aroused by meeting the eyes of the three girls who were still staring at him.
“Would you like a drink? They serve the best whiskey in the world here.”
“No, thanks, I’m fine. Tell me why I’m sitting at this table.”
“For the simple reason that you have something that interests me and I have something that interests you. The modern term that’s been coined for such a purpose is “trade”. I prefer to call it an exchange of interests as a means to an end.”
“And what have you got that could interest me?”
“For the time being, three lady friends who’d like to spend a little time with you to remind you what pleasure is. Julia is a stunning woman, but it isn’t beauty that fills your dreams, is it, Norman?”
“Who are you? How do you know about Julia? What kind of place is this?”
“This is merely the place you’ve been looking for... for a long time.”
This statement struck such a familiar chord that Norman searched for the bartender again, in vain.
“Look, either you tell me what the hell you want from me, or I’m leaving!”
“If I could, I’d make everyone’s dreams become a page in everyone’s life…
If I could, I’d rewrite history so that it would look better in the eyes of the future...
If I knew how, I’d say that emotion is the fruit of a thought ... a great thought!
If I could find the words, I’d write a poem... to see what effect being listened to makes...
But my only desire, at this moment, is to search for you... because otherwise my life would make no sense!”
“Isn’t this what you were looking for, my friend?”
“That’s my poem! Do you know the bastard who stole my book? Take me to him right away!”
“Relax! I’ve already told you, all in good time. The person you’re looking for is closer than you think, but we can’t reach him this evening. You’ll have to make do with spending the evening with my lady friends and wait a little longer for news. What do you say?”
Norman looked at the girls in bewilderment. Their beauty was embarrassing. It occurred to him that the best thing to do was to stand up and go and look for the man who had asked him to follow him earlier, but he was hypnotized by so much loveliness.
“Come on, Norman. You’ll enjoy yourself.” The words spoken softly by the girl to his left plunged him into a frenzy of desire, the like of which he hadn’t felt for years. “My friends and I are feeling so lonely today.”
They surrounded him and began to kiss him, stroking his body as if it were something they had always done. Norman was filled with ecstasy. He let himself be carried away by his imagination and the six hands that felt like silk. One of the girls took hold of his tie and pulled him behind her as she made her way towards the back of the bar. The other two followed, but the man remained seated with a satisfied grin on his face. They approached a door. His desire was so strong that Norman thought he would swoon. On the other side, a staircase led to a dark basement. The blonde girl behind him pushed him forward with a light smack on his buttocks, and switched on a light that was so dim it hardly lit the landing th
ey were standing on. The girl in front slammed him against the wall and kissed him on the mouth. For a second, Norman thought of Julia, but his mind was filled with a mist so dense that it blotted out the guilt in his heart. He kissed her back and let his hands wander over her magnificent body. The other two began to caress him, showing him that desire is stronger than any form of self-control, if aroused in the right way.
“Come with us. Down there you’ll find your happiness.”
They walked down the stairs. Norman tasted the delights of transgression; he was completely addicted to the idea of an experience he had previously only enjoyed in his imagination. He thought about all the women he had known and those he had been with. None had been half as lovely as the girls he was with now. I’m probably dreaming, was the only coherent thought bobbing in the sea of lust that flooded his mind. So I’ll carry on dreaming, came the reply from the pragmatic side of his brain. At the bottom of the steps, he caught sight of a light that was brighter than the one that had guided them so far. At last they reached the room where Norman imagined one of the greatest pages of his life would be penned, where he would experience something he would remember for ever, safeguarding the secret like an inconvenient truth.
The room was as big as the bar upstairs, and in the center stood an enormous bed. The walls and ceiling were covered with mirrors in order to imprint in memory the image of bodies writhing in the throes of pleasure. Two of the girls pushed Norman towards the bed; he let himself fall backward, a smug smile creasing his face as he memorized a picture of the perversion hovering in the air. The girl whose green eyes reminded the light what important accomplices colors make, lowered her gleaming, sculpted nakedness onto his body. While the third girl was undressing, Daisy stood strangely aloof, but Norman’s mind had cast itself into the near future where she was already supine, utterly defenseless and subject to his whims. The woman’s lips were soft and warm, but some odd flavor advised his senses to stop and reflect for a minute.
Norman opened his eyes and saw something red trickling out of the mouth that until a second ago had been the gateway to his desires. The taste of iron took him back in time, to when he used to prick his fingers on rose thorns so that he could suck the blood. A feeling of terror interrupted the moment’s bliss, activating the self-defense mechanism that induces men to feel fear. So much blood was gushing out that the air was hard to breathe and Norman thrust the body away from him. He looked up and saw the body of the long-haired girl lying on the floor. Beside her was Daisy, her face expressionless as she stared at the body, though her eyes were wide as if she had just seen shock in all its guises. Norman stared at her, petrified. He met her inscrutable gaze and his imploring look asked the question he couldn’t utter.
“You have to go, now!”
“But...?! What the hell’s going on? What have you done?”
A deafening noise startled him; something was happening upstairs. A deep rumble made the bed shake and the walls tremble, and then they heard a confused clamor approaching the door.
“What’s happening?”
“They’re coming to get you!”
“Who’s coming? What do they want me for? You put me in this mess! I haven’t done anything!”
“Not yet, but if you don’t make a run for it, you’ll be accused of a double murder.”
Daisy’s voice sounded so calm it was almost inhuman. The mere idea of remaining unaffected after what she had just done was unthinkable.
“Behind the last mirror at the end of the left-hand wall is the exit into an alley that will get you out of here. Move it, or your life will be over.”
There was a knock on the door; the voices had found the right entrance.
“Open up! Police!”
There was another knock and the sound of officers murmuring, and Norman realized he had to make a decision right now, because the door would be broken down in a matter of minutes.
“Why did you do it?”
“There’s no time to explain. There’s an automatic opening device at the bottom of the mirror. Now go.”
No sooner had she spoken than she vanished, with a wave like a grand magician flicking his wand to distract an audience, leaving no trace but the same shiver of air that the murders had created.
Norman searched for her, incredulous, but more banging on the door made him hurry towards the only escape route available. Just as he had been told, there was a button on the base of the mirror. He pressed it with his foot and the mirror disappeared into the wall, letting in a rush of cold air that had now chilled the early morning mildness, a gift given as a sign of good will by winter, so as not to be too bothersome. The wall slid shut behind him as Norman stepped into a narrow alley. It was almost as dark as the room where he had glimpsed ecstasy. He was still terrified by what had happened. He wasn’t even sure whether he was awake or not, but the cold soon convinced him. He collapsed against the high, icy wall of the building on the corner of the street, covered his face with his hands and burst into tears he hoped would bring release, but which just made him feel more wretched. It was a completely different situation from the one that had existed only a few hours earlier. His hands were shaking and he was at a loss to find answers to the questions swirling in his brain. Before he could get his act together, his phone rang. The display again showed “withheld”, and he replied on the second ring, in the hope that some of his misgivings might be allayed.
“Good morning, this is the National Bank. I’d like to confirm that the wire you were expecting arrived this morning. We’re at your disposal whenever it’s convenient for you.”
The caller hung up as quickly as he had relayed the message. Norman felt more blind-sided than ever. He couldn’t remember anyone owing him money. He dragged himself off the ground and tried to pull himself together. He should go to the Police Precinct to ask for help to shed some light on the whole business. Idiot, he said to himself. The Police were looking for someone to question about the bodies lying a few yards from where he stood. He wondered how many people had seen him walk down the stairs; someone had probably already given a description of him. He couldn’t risk it. He didn’t want to risk it. So, he decided to go straight to the bank: finding out who had wired the money was his first priority for the time being.
Chapter 5
The hotel lobby was warm and welcoming, without the excessive elegance that goes hand in hand with the kind of luxury that is sold to those who need to feel superior at least for appearances’ sake. Dustin loitered for a few minutes. He knew the person he was expecting would be on time, as usual. The Latin-American background music made it the ideal setting for relaxation and entertainment, but it didn’t affect his state of mind in the slightest. He was there on a mission, not to observe recreational activities. The grandfather clock in the lobby slowly and decisively struck the hour, marking the end of the morning and the imminent arrival of lunch.
“Did you think I’d never get here?”
“I didn’t doubt it for a second. Have you delivered the message?”
“Sure! Who do you think you’re dealing with?”
“With someone who doesn’t think twice about double-dealing.”
“But that’s never been a big problem as far as you’re concerned! I’ve always kept to our agreements. And obviously I’ve always earned twice as much.”
“I’ve always wondered whether sitting on the fence gives you a pain in the butt.”
“You know I can’t feel pain. Are you having me on?”
“No way. This is just a job for me, I’m not enjoying it one bit. I can’t wait to go home and have a holiday.”
“Ah. That’s funny! If I can give you a piece of advice though, you should try to relax every so often and maybe even have yourself a bit of fun. Otherwise, the job just becomes a routine. And all work and no play makes Jack, and you, a dull boy.”
“We’re here on a specific mission! There’s no fun in what we do!”
“Not for you maybe. But in this game, I’m no
t a player. I’m only a simple active observer who intervenes on commission to make a pawn face a choice.”
“I know what your game is. But unlike you, I don’t consider people pawns, only beings with deep feelings.”
“And geared to self-destruction! Clinging for all they’re worth to the god money rather than any other form of superior being.”
“They’re not all like that. I’ll prove it to you this time as well.”
“Good luck with that. But the competition is tougher and more ruthless than ever. Things haven’t been going too well for you lately.”
“It’ll be different this time. You know what to do. I’ll see you back at the rendezvous.”
“I’ll be there.”
Without another word, Dustin got up and headed for the exit.
“Hey, Dustin! Don’t you want to have a little fun, like the good old days? There are some fantastic rooms here,” said the voice he had just walked away from.
“You don’t have any effect on me, Daisy, not any more.”
The woman smiled. She liked provoking him more than the job she had been assigned.
Chapter 6
Norman entered the bank with a bewildered expression on his face. He looked like a child who had lost his mother. He saw that the nearest counter was free and went over to speak to the teller.
“Good morning, I’m...”
“Yes, sir, they’re expecting you. Please follow me.”
She pointed to where he could go through the security barrier. It took Norman a minute to recover; he was caught completely off guard by the fact that someone was expecting him. He had often been in that bank, but his finances had never warranted anyone waiting for him to arrive. The woman took him upstairs. The grandeur of the place made him uneasy. They stopped on the landing in front of the widest door he had ever seen.
The Devil's Fate Page 3
