Broken Serenade

by Dorina Stanciu

  “Mademoiselle Lili,” Vivien intervened urgently. It was time she took the chance. She was breathing laboriously and shacking visibly. “You’re not really into men. You don’t want him now, do you?” she asked and managed an anemic smile.

  Her white, ice-cold fingers ventured tentatively to the buttons of her beige cashmere sweater. She undid them with no hurry at all, one by one. She uncovered a black lace balconette bra that left her round breasts half-naked and maddeningly heaving with her each and every breath. The desire she read into the older woman’s eyes encouraged her.

  “You want me, don’t you?” Vivien whispered, sensually biting her lower lip. “I’d find more pleasure in a snake’s embrace rather than in yours,” she said boldly. “But you could have me. I could be yours forever. All you have to do is free Tee. Let him go, and I’ll be your sex toy, your lover, anything you want me to be.”

  Lili shook her head violently as if wanting to wake up from a dream.

  “My darling, you’ll be mine anyway!” she grinned. “Now sit down and play the piano,” she demanded.

  “I can’t! I don’t feel like playing the piano right now,” Vivien challenged her, disappointed to tears that her plan had not worked. However, her hands were free, and she needed to do something. She sensed that Lili had a soft spot for her. She wouldn’t kill or even hurt her. Lili hated Tee. His life was in danger, not hers.

  Vivien fixed the crystal bowl on the piano with an absent look. Then suddenly, with no one anticipating her move, she let out a frustrated scream, and with the back of her hand, she sent that bowl crashing to the floor. Multicolored bonbons jumped cheerfully on the marble tiles, and shards of glass flew in the direction of Lili and Timothy. Vivien collapsed on her knees crying and sobbing in a state of hysteria.

  LaFontain thrust her meaty hand into the young woman’s hair. Vivien winced in pain.

  “Leave her alone!” Timothy and Lili roared together. LaFontain backed up a couple of steps from her.

  For a few moments, no one spoke. Only Vivien’s sobs altered the heavy silence.

  Timothy remembered how she calmed down every time she played the piano.

  “Vee,” he called her softly, “you play it for me, my love.”

  Vivien nodded and got up gingerly, sniffing and wiping her tears with her arm. She sat at the piano, and her long, graceful fingers touched the first keys. Shubert’s Serenade sounded surprisingly harmonious, despite her obvious distress. Lili smiled satisfied. She hasn’t forgotten… She hasn’t forgotten ME, she reflected, impressed. Mesmerized, she looked at Vivien for a long while. She looked at her face, at her lips, at her beautiful skin, and the tremendous effort she made to fight the temptation was almost palpable. Her fingers ached to touch her, to feel her. In the end, she was able to control herself.

  Lili went back to her prisoner. She let her hair down and pushed it on her back. Now she resembled Nadine even better. She uncovered her white and bonny shoulders, and then, she continued to undo the buttons of Timothy’s blue cotton shirt. She leaned to kiss him on the mouth, but the man turned his face, disgusted with her. Her lipstick left a bloody red mark on his bruised cheek. She snickered insolently. Timothy turned and spited in her face. The woman slapped him eagerly. He answered her with a steel-like glance. Watching contented as the marks of her fingers shaped rapidly on the man’s face, Lili started to undo his belt and pants with brutal moves.

  “Seriously?” Timothy exclaimed stupefied. “Do you really think it’s possible? I need atmosphere, lady! I’m not in the mood! The gun you’re pocking me with is not helping.”

  “I will help you, my darling boy. Be patient. Do you care to know what my first job in America was? I was a call-girl,” Lili bragged about it. “I met all kinds of men, young and old; some marked by impotency, other virile like real studs. Two things they had in common: money and boring wives. I pleased them all. I was very successful.”

  “I bet you were! The job suited you like a glove! Sorry to disappoint you, but as far as I’m concerned, you don’t strike the right note here, despite all your talents and efforts,” Timothy said.

  The piano playing came to an abrupt end. Vivien stood up white as a ghost.

  “I feel sick. I’ve got to go to the bathroom.”

  “LaFontain, go with her back there!” Lili ordered. “Vivien, just a friendly advice, don’t try anything crazy! It’s for your own good. And his, of course.”

  Vivien retched as if on the verge to throw up all over the piano. The secretary grabbed her arm and pushed her with hostility toward the Powder Room situated behind the column where Timothy had been tied up.

  “LaFontain, go easy on her,” Lili yelled.

  “Lili, Vivien gets panic attacks,” Timothy informed her, concerned. “She develops tachycardia during these episodes. She could have a heart attack. Let me go with her. Please. That helps her.”

  “I get panic attacks too every now and then. They are not life threatening. Everybody knows that. She’s safe with LaFontain. Nice try, though! But if I were in your precarious position - literally and figuratively speaking - I would be inclined to spare more thought on my own skin… and do something…”

  “Well, Lili, you don’t have to wave the flag of your selfishness so openly. It’s not something to be proud of,” Timothy told her, as his fingers reached a big piece of glass from the crystal bowl that Vivien had intentionally broken earlier.

  “On the other hand, Tim dear, your unhealthy combination of virtue and stubbornness, coupled with your razor-sharp tongue, could take you to your grave much sooner than I actually planned it,” she pointed out malignantly.

  * * *

  A very daring plan had sprouted inside Vivien’s mind. Timothy had been right. Playing the piano had calmed her down just enough to push her brain into action. Walking slowly toward the bathroom, Vivien prayed silently that things would work as she had imagined them, and especially the toilet would be the way she needed it to be. Otherwise, she would have to improvise. She would do it. She would do anything for her Tee.

  A powerful infusion of adrenaline made her heart go maddeningly fast. She could hear its wild, galloping rhythm.

  Vivien knew this was their big chance. Maybe the only chance. She needed LaFontain’s gun. She had anticipated that Lili would send the woman to guard her.

  “Enter and leave the door cracked open,” LaFontain ordered.

  “No, please, come with me inside,” Vivien pleaded. “I’m afraid to be alone. Just turn around and face the door. Please Miss LaFontain,” she insisted.

  Everyone thought she was a girly girl, a frail, weak, young woman. She had never hurt a fly in her entire life. Tonight that would have to work to my advantage, Vivien reflected.

  LaFontain took the bite.

  “OK, girl, but hurry up!”

  She opened the door, and they both entered the exquisite, elegant bathroom with skylight and glass floor with an ocean theme. Vivien cast a glimpse to the toilet and felt a spark of hope invigorating her. Now all she needed was courage and cold blood. I must do this for Tee. Otherwise, Lili will kill him, she thought. She splashed cold water on her face and took a few sips. Then she acted as if she prepared to sit on the toilet, but she would not undress.

  “Please, don’t look!” She asked the older woman. “I can’t do it if you look, and we’ll stay here forever.”

  “OK! OK! I’m not looking. Anyway, do you think I’ve never seen sexy little panties like yours?” LaFontain laughed wickedly.

  Vivien turned and lifted the heavy lid of the toilet’s water basin slowly and silently. Without a second thought, she sprang to her feet and struck LaFontain with it, right on the top of her head, as hard as she could. The woman stood still as a rock for two or three endless seconds. Vivien stopped breathing, scared to death. Then she saw the secretary crumbling to the floor like a ragdoll. A few drops of blood on the immaculate-white porcelain lid made Vivien queasy. She bent and grabbed the revolver from the floor. Sick from her stomac
h, she heaved a couple of times but didn’t vomit.

  Vivien wasn’t really sure about what she would do with the pistol. She had never fired a gun. But then again, she had never hit a person in the head with the lid of a toilet water basin, and tonight she had done it successfully. She tried to encourage herself and have trust in her own forces. She had a mission: she needed to save her lover from being killed. In her eyes, that licensed her to do just about anything in her power. And beyond!

  CHAPTER 29

  The night was cold and humid, but Clark felt his body burning with anticipation. He took of his jacket and threw it nervously at his feet. He started to feel the wall behind the huge bush of ivy. Got it! He carefully touched the metallic handle that opened the secret entrance into the mansion. The blood was boiling at his temples.

  Only ninety minutes earlier, everything seemed under control. Under his control anyway! Armed with strong evidence, he had decided to pay his brother a late night visit and have a serious discussion with him and Vivien. He had noticed the odd van in the driveway and the lights on in the garage from afar. Suddenly, an ominous foreboding had come over him hurting as badly as a thorn pushed cruelly into his heart. He had turned off his headlights and had driven closer to the house. He had seen Vivien and Tim escorted by two strange blonde women and getting into that peculiar van. Tim would never take Vivien for a nocturnal ride in such a junk, Clark had thought worriedly. And those female giants in black leather pants don’t quite fit into the picture as Vivien’s chaperons.

  After a short pause, he had seen that van departing, and he had speculated that both Tim and Vivien had been tied up inside it. Timothy’s Mercedes driven by his mysterious secretary had followed it closely, which added to the drama.

  Clark had been on their tracks all the way from Menlo Park to Monterey Peninsula. He had experienced some sort of relief when both cars had stopped before that sumptuous villa erected on the border of the ocean. A few miles back, his car had started to signal empty fuel tank. At that moment of panic on the highway, Clark had decided to call Detective Leonard. Unfortunately, the detective had not answered his phone, and Clark had left a message. Now he could only hope that Art Leonard checked his messages often. He had watched Timothy and Vivien walk out of that van with their hands behind their back, and both had vanished behind this wall along with their presumed kidnappers.

  Clark prepared his gun and got himself ready for action. Time was very precious. He could not afford to lose a single second. He anticipated that he would meet at least one armed-person – Timothy’s repugnant secretary. He had seen the other two younger women leaving the property only a couple of minutes ago, one in the van, and the other in Timothy’s Mercedes.

  He couldn’t divert his thoughts from Timothy’s secretary. How the hell can you hire a Homo Neanderthal like this LaFontain – especially on a secretary position – when the earth is full of beautiful women? Clark wondered perplexed, recalling her permanent acrimony and the hostility on the woman’s face whenever chance brought them together in the same room. This is the price you pay for excessive pity, dear brother!

  Clark inhaled deeply and switched the metallic handle. The doors slid open noiselessly, and a deserted interior emerged. The design of it was jaw-dropping – white marble and glass in the most elegant and expensive combination. With every fiber of his muscles tense, Clark froze and listened. An obnoxious laughter reverberated from upstairs. He could have sworn that he was able to pick up fragments of conversation. He glanced at the spiral stairway. There’s no imminent danger. He decided to climb it. Every step enhanced his ability to understand more and more words from a dialogue. He realized that one of the persons talking was his brother. The other voice gave him the creeps – it was Lili! He let his hearing guide him, and soon he arrived before a closed door. He stood there for a while, his back against the wall, trying to imagine the position of every person in that room. Judging by the noise and conversation, it appeared that only Timothy and Lili were inside.

  What the hell did they do with poor Vivien? Where could she be?

  He touched ever so carefully the golden handle and discovered relieved that it opened without a sound. Praying to God that this would not be his last move, he cracked open the door with his right shoulder. He held the gun tightly with both hands and took a glimpse inside to evaluate the situation. First thing he registered was Lili’s hand, wearing too many bracelets and rings, and then the pistol she was pushing into Timothy’s naked chest. For a second, he met his brother’s stunned look. He motioned Tim not to give up his silent entrance, and his brother did just that. Lili was rocking sensually in his lap, struggling to undo the belt of his pants with only one hand.

  “You’ll never be able to do that, Lili!” Timothy said, trying to keep her busy as Clark made up his mind about what to do next. “Not to mention that you could accidentally shoot me, and that would ruin your plan. Put the gun down for a few seconds and occupy yourself only with my pants. You’re not Napoleon to multitask successfully. Even he failed miserably in the end.”

  The woman stopped.

  “Don’t delude yourself into believing that you’ll walk out of here alive, dear Timothy! You don’t stand a chance,” Lili threatened, smelling the air around with her nostrils enlarged, as if she had sensed the danger.

  “LaFontain!” she yelled toward the bathroom. “Is everything all right in there?”

  No answer came to calm her.

  “LaFontain!” Lili thundered. She jumped to her feet keeping the pistol aimed at Timothy.

  Clark could not find a place to hide. He acted on impulse.

  “Good evening, Lili! Long time no see!”

  The woman pushed the gun to Tim’s neck and swung about. Her face turned white.

  “How the hell did you get in here? Fuck! Merde! Where the hell are those cretins? LaFontain! Galina!” She yelled, panic-stricken and shaky.

  “Now, my dear,” Clark spoke. Quite amused, he leaned against the wall by the entrance. “Don’t you think that it’s ridiculous to force a man to have sex with you when that’s the only thing I’ve been dreaming of ever since I turned sixteen? You had a reputation in high school. Remember? Guys fought for your favors. You were delightful from what they used to say. Now you look desperate, my dear. What a bitch time is! If you’re in such need, I can always oblige. I propose I change places with Tim. No guns involved, and I’m open to any of your BDSM fantasies. What do you say?”

  “You are disgusting! And despicable! If you make the slightest move, I’ll shoot your baby brother.”

  Clark seemed to ignore her threat.

  “Am I really the disgusting and despicable one in this room? Then what do you have to say in your favor when, only a few seconds ago, you were attempting to rape your future son-in-law?”

  Lili erupted in hysterical laughter.

  “You’re crazy! You’re so damn crazy, you suck!” she said.

  “Vivien is your daughter, Lili. The one you gave up for adoption when you were sixteen. I have the proof in my pocket,” Clark declared firmly, keeping his gun aimed at her.

  A black Labrador pushed the door opened and entered panting with excitement. The dog went straight to Lili and lay at her feet, oblivious to the tension in the room.

  “Sammie,” Lili commanded, “go get him, boy! Kill him!”

  The dog yawned wide exposing its sharp fangs.

  Clark swallowed hard. Next instant, Sammie got up and started to crunch the bonbons on the floor with much eagerness.

  * * *

  The marble floor was cold as ice under her feet summarily protected by the fancy silk stockings. Vivien had abandoned her high heel shoes outside the bathroom. She advanced slowly along the small hallway without making the slightest noise. As she distinguished Clark’s voice, her heart made a joyful leap in her chest. She took a step out in the open. And she froze. Instantly. The huge black dog she had seen at Arlene’s memorial service was munching bonbons ten inches from Tee’s leg. The fear
paralyzed her. She stood there petrified as a dead rock. Only her heart beat like a drum. Around her, the air seemed to have suddenly grown poor in oxygen. She forced her eyes to look somewhere else. She chose Timothy’s hands. The right one was moving rapidly. He was rubbing a piece of glass on the scarf that bound his hands together. Tee needs me. I have to be strong! It’s just a dog, she thought, fighting her phobia. Driven by sheer willpower, she walked up to his hands. Now she was so close, she could touch him. She felt the sweet, floral scent that accompanied Lili. She could recall it from her childhood.

  “You miserable, lazy dog,” Lili cried frustrated. “You’re good for nothing,” she yelled, hitting the Labrador in the ribs with her pointed shoe.

  Sammie yelped in pain.

  “Come here, boy!” Clark called. “Hey, Sammie, here, here boy!”

  The dog rushed to his side and started to lick his free hand.

  “Dogs know people, Lili. They smell a good person from miles away,” he told her.

  Lili let out a false, short laughter. Instinctively, her glance slid transiently toward the entrance door. In the same time, the room reverberated with Timothy’s urgent call.

  “Clark! Watch out!”

  Vivien saw Clark spin instantly. His deadly punch met the carefully made-up face of one of the Russians. The woman hit the floor and remained motionless. From behind the door, Galina sprang inside like a panther, a pistol ready in her hand. Clark caught her arm and broke it on the doorframe. The woman cried in agony as he pushed her violently down the stairs. Vivien heard her as she tumbled down like a ball. If she were still alive, Galina could conclude she was extremely lucky.

  Panicky and disappointed that the entire situation had taken such an unexpectedly bad turn, Lili turned her gun to Clark’s direction and fired. The bullet missed the man’s ear by a quarter of an inch and penetrated the white wall on the staircase.