by Estelle Ryan
His face lit up with a toothy smile the moment I opened my arms. He pushed off Colin’s lap and crawled onto mine. He turned to face me and immediately started telling me about Joey, François, Pierre, Joelle and Marchelle. These were his friends in kindergarten and they seemed to be inseparable. Even their teacher mentioned their bond.
“... and I tolds them I no have grammy. I have you.” Eric paused as I tried to figure out how the conversation had gone from Pierre messing up Marchelle’s art project with blue paint to talking about grandmothers. “Their grammies are old. You’re pretty.”
My research had also informed me that the clarity of his speech would improve. Some of his words were hard to understand, but we spent enough time with him to comprehend his meaning. Out of the corner of my eye, I registered Vinnie, Roxy and Nikki quietly watching our exchange.
Eric was being serious and I’d learned to pay attention whenever he felt the need to impart some important information in this tone. He shifted even closer and put his hands gently against my cheeks. He stared into my eyes, his expression pensive. “I tolds them you loves me like Mommy and Pink. And I loves you more.”
I froze. The strength of the emotions bombarding me at this small person’s declaration left me overwhelmed. And speechless. I blinked away the tears filling my eyes and swallowed at the tightness in my throat. “You can’t measure love, Eric.”
He frowned. “What’s ‘meh-shuh’?”
“‘Measure’ gives us the quantity of something. Love is abstract. It can’t be quantified.” I was immensely relieved to be explaining a more neutral concept to him. The emotionality of his declaration was hard for me to process. But my venture into a more neutral concept didn’t have the effect I’d expected. His frown was even deeper, his confusion clear.
“Jenny is detailing again.” Colin moved closer and rubbed Eric’s back. He looked up at me and winked. He’d explained to Eric a few times the concept of detail so Eric would understand when my responses confused him. He leaned back and looked at Eric, his expression mischievous. “But we know we love her...” He waited for a moment until Eric realised Colin’s intention. They both threw their arms wide open and finished together, “This much!”
It felt like my heart was increasing in size and was about to burst out of my chest. I touched Eric’s cheek with my left index finger, avoiding a sticky substance that looked like his favourite blueberry jam. He turned to look at me and I lowered my chin, for a moment making eye contact. “My love for you is immeasurable.”
He scrunched his nose, still confused.
Colin leaned in. “She loves you to the moon and back. Like I do.”
“Me too!” Roxy called out.
“Me three.” Vinnie’s voice sounded rough with emotion.
“I love you the mostest.” Nikki was wiping away tears, her voice light, but I saw the effort it took her to push past the emotions threatening to overwhelm her like they did me.
A beep sounding from the front door startled all of us. Eric giggled when Vinnie swore and stalked to the door. I wasn’t worried about the guest. Seven months ago, we’d upgraded the building security. Everyone who received a keycode to enter the building had a unique sound issued to them. Francine was on her way to us.
Eric shifted around in my lap to look towards the front door as it opened. This time he didn’t giggle when Vinnie swore out loud. My large friend was blocking the view to the door, but the change in his muscle tension brought panic to my mind.
“What the fuck, Franny?” Vinnie opened the door wider, but looked over his shoulder at Nikki. He nodded his head towards Eric and widened his eyes.
Nikki immediately jumped up. “Hey, bud. Want to go see what Vinnie is hiding in his room?”
“Yeah!” Eric shuffled off my lap and ran to take Nikki’s outstretched hand. They disappeared into the other side of our joined apartments and I had to force myself to look towards the door.
Francine was hanging her coat on the coat tree, her movements lacking their usual grace and fluidity. I looked up at her face and gasped. Blackness entered my peripheral vision and I barely managed to keep my focus on my breathing.
Blood was drying on the left side of her face, but a small trickle was still seeping from a cut above her eyebrow. Her cheek was swollen and the side of her mouth already discolouring. I felt as if something was anchoring me to the sofa. Even though I wanted to get up, I couldn’t get my muscles to respond.
Roxy jumped up and ran to their side of the apartment. Francine glanced at her retreating form, then turned to me. Her nonverbal cues revealed more than I thought she would’ve wanted me to know. Fear, anger, worry, pain, but most of all a plea. I didn’t know exactly what she needed from me, but it was enough for me to push past the paralysing shock and move to the edge of the sofa.
I realised that Colin had his hand on my forearm and was now resting his other hand on my lower back, gently rubbing his thumb against my shirt. I focused on that contact for two seconds, then nodded.
Francine’s shoulders sagged in relief and she walked to the dining room table just as Roxy rushed back, carrying a large dark blue medical bag. “Let me have a look at that.”
I got up and pulled out a chair to sit next to Francine, facing her. It took a lot of effort for me not to put the safety of the table between us, but rather sit close enough to see the dark red spots marring her elegant cream silk shirt. Some of the blood had run down her neck, the dark stain temporarily drawing my eyes until I realised I’d stopped breathing.
I forced my gaze to her eyes. She was scared. I put my hand on the table and leaned forward until I was close enough to touch her, yet not making contact. Her eyes became watery and she put her hand next to mine, not touching me, but close enough that I felt her body heat.
I had so many questions, but blurted out the first one that came to mind. “Where’s Manny?”
Deep concern and guilt flashed across her face. “Home. I don’t want him to see me like this. Please, Genevieve.”
Roxy cleared her throat and looked at me with wide eyes. She probed Francine’s cheekbone gently and froze when Francine jerked.
“How bad is it?” Vinnie was standing next to Francine, his fists on his hips, but his face a textbook study of worry.
“Bad bruises, but I don’t feel any fractures.” Roxy reached into the blue bag. “Of course, I recommend getting x-rays, but the cut won’t need stitches.” She opened a small container with a selection of plasters. “The cut will leave a scar, but it’s close enough to your eyebrow not to show too much.”
Francine snorted, then grunted. “I don’t really care about a small scar.”
“You might care about the swelling and bruising.” Roxy’s smile was gentle.
Vinnie stormed to the kitchen and returned with a bag of frozen vegetables and a tea towel. He wrapped the bag in the towel and handed it to Francine as soon as Roxy finished cleaning the cut and carefully fitting the plaster over it. Francine nodded her thanks at Vinnie and put the towel-covered bag of vegetables against her cheek and eyebrow.
Colin pulled a chair next to mine and sat down. “What happened?”
“I was mugged.” Francine closed her eyes for a second. “Dammit.”
Her vulnerability was what made the decision for me. I got up and took my phone from the coffee table next to the sofa.
“Genevieve, please.”
“He needs to know.” I swiped the screen and tapped on Manny’s number. Then I tapped the speaker phone icon.
It rang only once. “What’s wrong?”
“Francine was attacked.”
For a moment, I thought Manny hadn’t heard me. When he responded, it sounded like he was running. “Where is she?”
“Here.” I realised I wasn’t clear. “In our apartment.”
“What the fucking, holy hell happened?” He paused and I heard keys rattle. “Put me on video call.”
Francine slumped in her chair, then sighed and straightened.
&
nbsp; I tapped the video icon. A moment later, Manny’s face filled the screen. He was in the car driving, his phone in the holder on the dashboard. “Let me see her.”
I walked to the dining room table and handed Francine the phone. She still held the frozen vegetables to her face and I wondered if it was partly to hide the extent of her injuries from Manny. “Hi, shnookums.”
Manny didn’t respond. He glanced at the phone a few times, but continued driving. Then he shook his finger at the phone. “Twelve minutes.”
The screen went blank as he ended the call. Francine rolled her eyes and put my phone on the table. “Well, that’s that. He’s coming.” She looked at Roxy. “Can you rustle up a drink for me?”
“No.” The word came out more forceful than I’d intended. I looked at Vinnie. “Camomile tea.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Vinnie grinned at Francine. “You pissed off Mama Bear.”
Francine slowly raised her hand, then popped out her middle finger at him. Vinnie laughed and walked to the kitchen. Despite the levity, it was clear to me that Francine was still deeply distraught. I watched her fight for inner control. “Ready to talk?”
She nodded. “I went to a contact who has access to places on the dark web very few people have.”
“Fuck it, Franny!” Vinnie shook a clean mug at her. “You went alone?”
I raised my hand at Vinnie. “Don’t.” His anger was counterproductive. I looked at Francine. “In chronological order.”
A small smile lifted her cheeks. It amused her to annoy me regaling stories in chaotic order. She shifted the frozen vegetables and placed her free hand back on the table. I put my hand as close to hers as I could handle. She exhaled loudly. “I’ve been to Ty’s place twice. It’s a relatively safe area. I’ve never had any issues.”
“Why didn’t you conduct your contact online?” I preferred this method. Especially in the face of viral infections.
She shrugged. “Ty is special. He’s one of the few brilliant hackers who is older than me. He’s in his late sixties and never gets any visitors. And when I meet him in person, he always gives me what I need much faster.”
Vinnie placed a steaming cup of tea in front of her, then put one next to my hand. I looked at him and he smiled. “Thought you might need a cup as well.”
I nodded and looked at Francine, waiting for her to continue. She didn’t. Instead, she widened her eyes at me and tilted her head towards Vinnie. I closed my eyes on the realisation, then looked at Vinnie. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, Jen-girl.”
“So...” Francine cleared her throat. “I parked a few blocks from Ty’s house like I usually do. It’s in a quiet street and I always take care not to draw attention to him. Or to myself. But—”
A beep sounded and she glanced at the door. “Showtime.”
We didn’t have to wait long. Not even a minute later, the front door swung open and Manny rushed in. He took one look at us before focusing all his attention on Francine. As soon as he reached her, he hauled her to her feet and hugged her tightly against him. Immediately, all of her muscle tension lessened and she leaned into him, resting the uninjured side of her face against his shoulder. Seeing how safe she felt in Manny’s arms aided in calming my mind as well.
“I’m sorry,” Francine mumbled against Manny’s shoulder.
“I’ll shout later.” He inhaled deeply and pressed his cheek against her head. Then he pulled away from her, holding both her shoulders. His lips tightened when he took in the bruising and the cut on her brow. “Bloody hell, Francine.” He kissed her bruised cheek with such care, I wondered if she even felt it. Then he kissed her on her uninjured cheek and moved away. “Sit.”
She smiled and sat down, much more relaxed than before. I moved my hand to my lap and waited for Manny to grab a chair from the other side of the table and sit next to Francine. “Everything. Every bloody detail.”
Francine nodded and told him what she’d already told us. “They must’ve followed my car. I parked and sent you the SMS that I’d be a bit late. When I got out of the car to go to Ty, they attacked me.”
“Are there any CCTV cameras in the area?” I might find something that could help us identify the thugs.
Francine’s rueful smile was my answer. “I made sure to park away from any cameras. Usually that’s a wise thing, but clearly not today. Anyhoo... there were three of them. Men. They were wearing masks as well as hoodies, so I couldn’t see anything to really identify them by. I’m convinced it was only a scare tactic. They could’ve killed me.”
I gasped and pressed my fist against my chest.
“Sorry, girlfriend. I’m okay now.” She waited for me to nod, then continued. “Two of them held me. The biggest one punched me twice in the face.”
I noticed her hesitation. “Where else?”
“Dammit, Genevieve.” Her expression was becoming familiar. Every time I noticed something she didn’t want to reveal, an annoyed resignation flitted across her face. “A few punches in my stoma... my torso. But before you all shout at me, nothing is broken. He was pulling his punches.” She pointed at her brow. “He hit me with the handle of his knife and told me this was a reminder.”
“Of what?”
Her expression changed as if someone had turned on a light. “To stay out of the Collector’s business.”
The excitement on her face confused me. “Why would you be happy about this?”
“It means the Collector is getting nervous. Whatever we’re doing is getting us closer to him.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you see you were followed?” Vinnie got up so fast, his chair fell backwards. “First Nikki, now you?”
Francine glared at Vinnie. “I’m a hacker. Not Jason frigging Bourne!”
Manny pulled her into a sideways hug. “We know.”
I was trying to be sensitive to the neurotypical reaction to this situation, but was fast losing patience. It took great effort to control my tone. “Francine, you’re observant. What did you see? Hear? Feel?”
She leaned against Manny and took a moment to consider her answer. “They were dark-skinned. I can’t say for sure whether they were African or mixed-race or even Middle Eastern. I didn’t smell anything revealing.” She closed her eyes. For a few moments we all sat in silence. Her eyes opened. “Their accents.”
“What about it?” Colin asked.
“They spoke to me in French, but with heavy Portuguese accents. I’m pretty sure they didn’t expect me to recognise a Portuguese accent.”
Not only were Francine’s Brazilian roots evident in her mixed-race beauty, they also added Portuguese and Japanese to her language repertoire.
“Bloody hell.” Manny rubbed his hand over his face. “First the bloody consulate general of Portugal gets set on fire, then Armando with his demand that we go to Portugal with him, and now this?”
“They’re not from Portugal.” Francine shook her head. “And not from Brazil either. Their accents were different.”
“You heard all that from them speaking French with a Portuguese accent?” Roxy’s eyes were wide. “Respect.”
“Ooh, no.” Francine blinked. “They were speaking to each other in Portuguese when they left me lying in the street.”
Manny, Vinnie and Roxy swore. I sighed. “Chronological order, Francine.”
She huffed a soft laugh. “Sorry, girlfriend. Bullet points? I stop my car. SMS Manny. Get out. Baddie One grabs my arm from behind. Baddie Two grabs my other arm and holds out his phone to record it. Baddie Three hits me in the stomach. Then again. Then slaps me with his open palm in my face. Tells me to stay out of the Collector’s business.
“Then he hits me again in my stomach. Then on my brow with the handle of a very scary-looking knife. The last few punches are in my tummy again. I decide to play possum... um... pretend I’m much more hurt than I am. When Baddie One and Baddie Two let go of my arms, I fall onto the street, dramatically gasping for air.”
At this point, I was tempte
d to roll my eyes the way Nikki often did. Only Francine could make an attack sound like the screenplay of an action movie.
“As the three Baddies walk away, I listen to anything that can help me find the mofos and get my own back.” She winked at me. “That’s when they were speaking to each other in accented Portuguese. And don’t ask. I can’t place their Portuguese accents. But they spoke fluently like only native speakers would.”
“What did they say?” I wanted her to get to the point.
Again her facial muscles lifted with excitement. “One of them said the Collector would be pleased with them. They were the first to have finished the job.”
“Fucking hell!” Manny got up, then sat back down. “There’s a contract out on you?”
“Contract? Maybe.” Francine shrugged as if it was nothing to worry about. “Baddie Two said he’d get onto White Elephant to tell the Collector the job was done. And upload the video.”
“White Elephant?” I asked.
“Yes!” Francine shifted in her chair, her eyes wide with delight. “Ty knows about this forum. He’s looking into it for me as we speak.”
“Wait.” I held up my hand to process what she’d just told us. “You went to Ty after you were attacked?”
“Of course.” Some of her enthusiasm left when Manny and Vinnie again swore long and loudly. “I wasn’t going to break my promise to him. He relies on my visits. Although it was quite a bit shorter today than usual. He didn’t even want me to sit down in case I bled on his old, ugly sofa.”
“Francine.” Colin shook his head slowly while the others expressed their displeasure in detail.
I leaned towards her, ignoring everyone else. “Why do you react so strongly to Portugal and White Elephant?”
“Genevieve.” Her shoulders sagged. Then she flicked her hair over her shoulder and straightened. “I noticed something in the code the Collector or the Collector’s hacker is using when hacking into museums and galleries. That code, the name ‘White Elephant’ and other small things are adding up for me. But I’m really worried that I’m just seeing things I want to see because I want to catch the Collector.” She put her hand on Manny’s thigh. “Please allow me to do my research to be one hundred percent sure. I don’t want to take us on a detour simply because I have a hunch.”