The Devil's Blue Eyes

by Chris Sanders

  “Oh, Luke. I’m so sorry, Luke.”

  “I don’t remember anything after that Lena. The doctors told me I’d gone into some sort of shock. I don’t remember the ambulances arriving or the police taking me home. I don’t remember anything. I went numb I guess. I switched off. It’s the only way I could handle what had happened. I’d lost my baby brother, Lena. I was responsible and I didn’t know how to live with that.”

  Lena laid her head across Luke’s chest. She was frozen too now, unable to move.

  “I’ve only told that story to my best friend.”

  Lena didn’t reply. Her eyes were closed now deep in her own thoughts. It was as if she was remembering something terrible from her own distant past, memories so painful she’d had to block them out too. They both lay in silence for several minutes. Eventually they fell asleep.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Where are you going?”

  Luke glanced at his wristwatch, which he’d left on the bedside cabinet. It was approaching seven. The light was creeping in from behind the curtains. Lena stood by the bathroom door, pulling on her tights. She was already wearing a new blouse, her hair neatly tied back.

  “Lena?”

  “Please, Luke. No dramatics. No questions. I have to leave.”

  Luke lifted himself up, grabbing the near empty glass of water and drinking its contents in one hasty gulp.

  “You’re going again? Just like that? I thought after last night you’d want to stay a while. What the hell is going on?”

  Lena had already crossed the room. Putting a firm middle finger to his lips she said, “I have to go now Luke. I will explain everything later. No arguments. I will meet with you later. You’ll see. Please, just accept that I have to go now. Get some rest. You have the note I left you. Just follow the instructions and you’ll be fine. You’ll find your money and further instructions. Is that okay?”

  “Will you call?”

  “Of course. Now get some sleep. You have a long journey ahead of you. I want you to be fighting fit Luke,” she went on with a smile returning to the bathroom and beginning to get dressed again. Resigned, Luke laid his head against the pillow and simply watched Lena get dressed. She dressed quickly and within five minutes she was already opening the door to leave.

  “You remember what the numbers on the note are for?”

  “A safety deposit box. You don’t have to repeat yourself.”

  “Good. Well, I’m going now. I’ll call you soon. I promise. Okay?”

  “Sure. I’ll break open a bottle of champagne when you do.”

  “It has to be this way, Luke. You’ll understand in time.”

  “So, are you going now? The room’s getting cold.”

  “Get some rest Luke. I enjoyed our talking last night. You’re very special to me now, Luke. I just wanted to tell you that.”

  “I’ll take the phone off silent.”

  With that, Lena pulled the door wide and stepped into the hotel’s narrow corridor. Luke lay in bed for a minute. Feeling restless, he threw off the covers and headed for the bathroom. He turned on the washbasin’s taps and grabbed a large flannel which had been placed on a metal rack above. He soaked the flannel in the basin’s hot water and then covered his face. He held the flannel tight across his skin for maybe thirty seconds before it became too uncomfortable and threw it to the tiled floor. He peered at his haggard reflection in the tiny mirror which lived above the washbasin. He knew he should be walking away from Lena at this point. He knew he was walking into trouble. He recalled Andre’s earlier words at the hotel and knew instinctively the Russian had been genuine with his warning. Lena was genuine too. He was sure of that. He’d spent years around petty crooks and other less than honourable characters. He’d learnt to read people quickly and he was sure Lena was involved in something she couldn’t control. There was a fortune at stake and Lena had found herself at the epicentre. Had her Uncle taken Lee and her mother against their will? Perhaps. Would he hurt him? It was impossible to know. Perhaps Claire had simply taken Lee away so that he’d be safe. There were perhaps other characters, characters like Andre, who were trying to blackmail Claire in some way too. She owed Andre a lot of money. It wasn’t unreasonable to assume then that she had other debts, other people who were after her. Perhaps they’d threatened to kill Lee? Lena couldn’t know all of her step mother’s dealings. He was pretty sure neither of them communicated much. It was far more likely that Lena had simply assumed the worst.

  Luke began to dress. He didn’t feel like sleeping anymore. Although his body, especially his ankle, pained him, he wanted to get out of the room as quickly as possible. He’d grab himself a breakfast and then hunt down Lena’s infamous safety deposit box. He couldn’t help but smile at how silly it all felt. Lena had gone to great lengths. As long as the box was full of notes he’d be happy. He finished dressing and left the room at a brisk pace.

  ~ ~ ~

  Luke had slipped the notepaper into his inside jacket pocket. He’d left the Esther Hotel and made his way into Chancery Lane Market. It was mid-afternoon by the time he’d arrived. He’d skipped breakfast and had ordered a special Chow Mein from one of the Chinese stalls. He’d strolled past the rows of jewellery stores until he’d found an empty leech and had sat down to eat. A small café opposite had then caught his attention. Inside he’d noticed two large Arab men sipping coffee. Between them, piled into a small cluster across the café table they sat at, were several jewels and precious stones. The eldest Arab had then proceeded to take a small pouch from his shirt pocket and emptied its contents onto the table. Luke had watched as more precious stones had cascaded out. He smiled. Nothing much had changed in Chancery Lane. Business, it seemed, was still conducted in much the same manner as it always had been. He took his time to finish off the Chow Mein, watching the ebb and flow of people as they traipsed past the market stalls. He didn’t feel in any particular rush to find the safety deposit box. He trusted Lena and was confident she would deliver on what she’d promised. Finishing off the Chow Mein, he threw the empty food box into a nearby bin and retook his seat. He then took the notepaper from his pocket and read the instructions once again. The safety deposit box would be found in a bed and breakfast not far from King’s Cross St Pancreas. He recognised the street address and knew it would take him no more than fifteen minutes to walk there. His body still ached however and he decided instead to jump on the nearest tube.

  He arrived at King’s Cross a little before three in the afternoon. He took the first right once he’d left the tube and walked at a leisurely pace. Luke had always found it strange how quiet the streets became once you’d left King’s Cross and its main thoroughfares. The secret streets and parks which lived beyond St Pancreas were almost serene in comparison to their sister roads. It wasn’t long before he strolled by a small park. Tall, brown railings ringed this park. At the far end, situated on a sharp corner, stood a tiny pub. Beyond this

  pub a narrow street could be seen. Several bed and breakfasts stood either side of this street. Luke took out the notepaper once again. The Phoenix Inn, 125 Chad Lane. He’d located the street easily enough. Having passed the park he could already make out the bed and breakfast a few houses down.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Can I help you, sir?” the elderly man at the reception had asked as Luke had entered.

  “I’m looking for your safety deposit boxes.”

  “Are you a guest here?”

  “No. I just want your boxes. One of your guests left me a present.”

  The elderly man began to open his dusty register.

  “Do they have a name? This friend of yours.”

  Luke paused. He was tired and still in pain. Leaning forward and lowering his voice he said, “Listen friend. We both know that’s irrelevant. Just take me to your safety deposit boxes and I’ll be out of your hair in no time. Is that okay with you?”

  Slowly, the receptionist closed his book.

  “Of course. This way Sir. I’ll take you to ou
r rooms.”

  Luke followed him out of the reception and into a narrow back corridor. The wallpaper was peeling off on either side and the carpets were torn and almost worn down to the brickwork beneath. At the end of the corridor they came to a glass door. Beyond this, a flight of steps led them down into a small alcove. A doorway stood at the centre of this alcove.

  “Through here, please, Sir,” the receptionist continued, pulling out a rack of tiny keys from his belt and opening the door. He allowed Luke to step in first. The room was only a little wider than the corridor. The ceilings were very high however. Rack after rack of safety deposit boxes ran almost right up to the ceiling.

  “Do you have a number, sir?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “For your box. Some of them are stored quite high up and I would have to fetch the ladders in that case, you see.”

  “Number 1032,” Luke replied, having memorised the number.

  “1032,” the receptionist repeated, his expression suddenly very serious. His eyes began to scour each and every box.

  “Ah, yes, follow me sir. This way please.”

  Luke remained where he was.

  “Sir?”

  “If it’s all the same I’d rather locate the box myself.”

  “Of course. If that’s what you would prefer. Just go to the very end of the room and turn to your right. You’ll find the numbers starting 103 on the lower shelves. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?”

  “No. That will be fine, thank you.”

  “Very well, sir. Just come and fetch me when you’re done. I’ll be back at the reception. Never any rest for the wicked, eh?” the receptionist tried to quip. Luke ignored the attempt and walked to the room’s end. He then took a left and began to take note of the various numbers. He found a row which started at 103 and slowed his pace. The row was at knee level. He walked for a few seconds and then came to a standstill. Box 1032 sat a few inches from the ground on one of the very lowest racks. Kneeling down, Luke pulled the small tin box free wiping a thin film of dust from its lid as he did. The numbers 1032 had been written in thick, black felt across the lid itself. Standing up, he found a space on one of the higher racks and placed the box carefully there. Then, a nearby murmuring of conversation distracted him. He took a step closer towards the rack of boxes and peered through the tiny gaps. He could see the door at the far end. He could see the receptionist too; only now, he was talking to a second man. The second guy was a lot taller. He wore a long grey overcoat with the belt hanging loose at either side. This man also wore a large, grey trilby hat. Luke couldn’t see his face because of this. He could only pick out certain words from their hushed conversation. He heard Lena’s name and then Claire’s. He was sure he heard the second guy mention Andre too. Luke waited and watched the two men talking from a distance for several minutes. He didn’t move fearing his movement would tip them both off and instead he kept himself close to the racks of boxes. They talked for maybe two minutes more, the receptionist occasionally glancing nervously in Luke’s direction. The guy in the hat did not look his way once. Luke noticed something strange about the second guy. Every so often, as he spoke, he would reach out with his right hand and, using the tip of his little finger, tap one of the nearby racks. He would tap the rack twice very quickly so that no one would see unless they were looking carefully. It was a compulsive movement. He was, Luke suspected, suffering from a form of obsessive compulsive disorder. He waited for their conversation to conclude. After a minute more it did, the receptionist frantically ushering the second guy back upstairs. Luke kept close to the rack of boxes, waiting until both men had disappeared before he stepped out into the narrow corridor. He caught a glimpse of the stranger’s boot heel clearing the top step before the door was closed and the room below became that little bit darker. He waited until there was complete silence. He walked back to the rack and placed the box carefully on top of a second container. He then took out the notepaper and began to tap the numbers into the box’s square keypad. A few seconds later, he heard a sharp click. He glanced towards the corridor. It was still empty. Carefully, he opened the box. The lid opened freely. Inside, Luke found an envelope with his name written across the top. Beneath the envelope he found a small key. He removed the envelope first. Inside he could see fifty pound notes wrapped up in little bundles by elastic bands. She’d promised him five thousand. At first glance it looked to him like five thousand. He quickly stuffed the bundles into his jacket pocket and placed the key into his shirt pocket. In the envelope he also found a note. She’d scrawled down the address of Chatterton Hall along with a second address. He decided to read it later and placed the note carefully with the key and then closed the box. Not bothering to put the box back into its original place, he walked towards the staircase. He found the door above now slightly ajar. The reception was empty. The receptionist sat sheepishly behind his desk. He glanced at Luke but didn’t hold eye contact. Luke looked out the front window. The street outside was empty. There was no sign of the stranger. He walked over to the receptionist.

  “You get much business these days?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You have many people use your services?”

  “We do okay.”

  The receptionist looked nervous. He fumbled a little with his reading glasses before taking them off. He then said, “Is everything okay, Sir?”

  Luke paused. There was, he reasoned, no point in asking any further questions. Had Lena sent someone to watch over him? The receptionist had been expecting him too. Was Lena keeping an eye on her investment? He couldn’t be sure.

  “Cold down there, isn’t it?” Luke replied looking straight into the receptionist’s weasel eyes.

  “I can’t say I notice, Sir. I guess one gets used to the temperature after a while.”

  “Smart move. It’s a lot warmer up here. No point in getting cold.”

  “If you say so. Is there anything else I can do for you, Sir?”

  “No. Everything is fine, thank you. I’ll be on my way now.”

  The receptionist scuttled out from behind his desk and jogged over to the exit door. He opened it, smiling. It was a fake grin. He then said, “Well, I hope you use our services again. You are always welcome, Sir.”

  “Thank you. I’ll give it some thought.”

  With that, Luke left the hotel and made his way back into King’s Cross.

  5 - Country Retreat

  “Who is it?” Benny questioned half-hidden behind his net curtains.

  Luke was smoking a cigarette outside the flat’s front door. He was leaning against the door and looking out across the balcony. He could see the tip of the London shard from where he stood. Looking to his left he could make out the beginnings of the Crystal Palace Park.

  “Who is it?” Benny repeated, this time pulling back the curtains even further. He was half dressed and unshaven. His large belly hung over a pair of crumpled denim jeans. There were crumbs stuck inside his belly button.

  “Are you going to open the damn door or not?” Luke eventually spoke, taking a final inhalation on the cigarette. He then threw the cigarette on the concrete floor and crushed it with his boot. Benny was standing at the door by the time its embers had died.

  “You couldn’t just say your name?”

  “I have a sore throat.”

  “You know I’m running scared at the moment. You should shout your name if you want me to open,” Benny continued, nervously eyeing the balcony in either direction.

  “Did you see anyone follow you up? Has anyone asked about me?”

  Luke sighed. He then said, “It’s cold out here Benny. Can you just run along and make me a cup of tea? I’d appreciate it if I could come in too.”

  Benny flung out an arm and dragged Luke quickly inside.

  “I can’t go on like this, Luke. The postman banged on my door this morning and I nearly had a heart attack.”

  Luke grinned. They were sitting in Benny’s front room. Benny sat in h
is armchair facing Luke. Luke had taken a seat at the dining table.

  “I’ll never be able to find that sort of loot, Luke. I’m screwed. I know I’ll be getting a knock at the door any day now. If I don’t open, it’ll be kicked down.”

  “It won’t come to that Benny. Stop worrying,” Luke replied taking out an envelope from his jacket pocket and placing it across the dining table. Benny didn’t notice the movement, so engrossed in his own melodrama. His eyes were constantly darting towards the flat’s front window, checking for any unwanted visitors.

  “That’s easy for you to say. You don’t owe these psychopaths anything. You can go about your day as free as a bird.”

  “You should have more faith in your friends Benny. A good friend will always come up trumps for you. How many times have I explained that to you?”

  Benny fixed his eyes on Luke. Luke smiled, leaning back in his chair. He gave the impression he had everything under control. It was a quality that Benny had always admired in his friend. It made him feel safe. Deep down, Benny knew he’d always struggle through life. Befriending Luke all those years ago had been the best move Benny had ever made.

  He shifted his full body weight towards Luke and said, “Are you saying you can help me out of this mess, Luke? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? Please, no games or riddles this time. I just need a straight answer. Will you help me?”

  Luke picked up the envelope and flung it towards his friend. Benny caught it first time between his large, shovel-shaped hands. He didn’t waste any time and ripped it open. Immediately, its contents began to tumble. Benny counted four bundles of fifty pound notes on the flat’s floor.

  “Oh, my. Oh, my!” he yelled quickly scraping up the bundles of cash and snapping open the elastic bands which imprisoned them. He was counting out each bundle when Luke said, “There’ two grand in total.”