by Jeanne Rose
“I believe it is the anonymous troublemaker you should be searching for, Detective,” Val said. “He is the one who claims to know all.”
“And wants to blame you?” said Panchella. “Why?”
Val shrugged. “Perhaps he thinks I’m a good target. I admit I am a loner, that I keep to myself most of the time.”
“Except for your lady friend here.”
“Except for Adriana,” Val agreed, but went on, “Perhaps in the murderer’s fevered imagination, I am some kind of night fiend. I assume he mentioned vampires again.”
“The girl’s body was drained of blood.”
“Like Eddie Szewicki’s.” Val seemed calm, centered, as well as deadly serious. “If you investigate the marks on this newest victim’s neck, I am also sure you’ll find they were made with the same type of equipment that was used on the unfortunate Eddie. A sick, twisted man is obviously wandering the streets. You must stop him before he strikes down another innocent person.”
Was he right? Was there a killer stalking the streets who wanted to implicate Val? Someone who was lurking about, who’d watched them converse with both Eddie and Lilly?
Panchella affixed Val with a hard eye. “Like I said before, you seem to know an awful lot about this case. Maybe you’re even acquainted with the guy who’s been making these calls.”
“There are many people who may have observed me, who may have come to know my habits. The neighborhood in which I live is none too savory.”
A nebulous answer, one which didn’t satisfy Panchella, if the detective’s suspicious expression were any indication.
The reply didn’t soothe Adriana either. Furthermore, she suddenly realized that one or both of the anonymous phone calls might never have happened. Panchella could have made them up as a ploy to get Val to confess. She and Val might be under police surveillance.
Mulling things over, she didn’t hear the detective’s question until he’d repeated it a second time, “I said, do you have anything to add to this, Ms. Thorn?”
“Hmm?”
“You look upset.”
She glanced at Val, who was no longer staring so hard at her. She could lose herself in the gold of those eyes, had tenderly traced the line of those elegant cheekbones with her fingertips, had kissed that wonderful mouth . . .
She admitted quickly, “Certainly I’m upset. Who wouldn’t be at the mention of murder?” But she simply couldn’t turn against Val, at least not yet. Perhaps he had a reason for leaving out big chunks of the truth. If nothing else, she wanted to confront him herself first. “I’m also afraid.” Either of Val or the person he claimed might be watching everything they did.
Panchella nodded. “I can understand your misgivings. Don’t know as I can give you much advice on what to do, though, stick with Kadar or stay away. The anonymous caller seems to be afraid of him, mentioned something about him being the devil incarnate.”
The detective gave Val one last pointed look, but if he was expecting any sort of reaction, he didn’t get it.
Instead, Val asked, “Isn’t there a way to trace these phone calls, Detective?”
“Yeah, we’re on automatic, getting the numbers – but they’ve been coming from pay phones.”
“In what neighborhood?”
Panchella smiled tightly. “I’m asking the questions here, pal.” He slipped the notebook back into his jacket pocket before standing. “And since I’m getting next to nowhere, that’s about it for now.” He started to leave, then turned. “But something ain’t right. My gut is giving me weird signals. Like I said before, don’t either of you be leaving town.”
“Certainly. We shall be most happy to cooperate.” Val stood as well, as if he would politely see the detective out of the building.
Panchella objected, “I can find my own way,” and slipped out into the corridor.
Before Val could make another move, Adriana darted out from behind the desk and shut the door. She turned, staring at him accusingly, keeping her voice low. “You lied.”
“I merely kept some of the truth to myself.”
“What’s the difference? We were in a restaurant with Lilly last night. And now she’s dead.”
His nostrils flared, his eyes seemed to glow. “And you believe me responsible for the crime? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
He looked so fierce, so angry, but Adriana refused to cower, even as she felt a thrill of familiar fear creeping up her spine. “Lying doesn’t help your case any.”
“I was not worried about my case. What I said was meant to protect you.”
“Protect me? What are you talking about?”
“You were with me last night, Adriana. Even if there had been no phone call, we would have both been taken down to the police station if I had admitted we had anything to do with that girl. It’s likely we may have been put in jail . . . and while I myself can say that I will never spend a day behind bars, I cannot promise the same for you.”
“I don’t understand.”
He waved his hand imperiously, as if he were some type of royalty dismissing a peasant. “You don’t have to understand. Things are as they must be. I did what I thought was best for you and I always will.”
Anger burned in her own breast. “Thanks so much, your lordship, but I don’t exactly appreciate your high-handed thoughtfulness.”
“I am not surprised. You were cold, unhappy with me before I appeared this evening.” He stepped closer, looming over her. “You even feared I would harm your former lover. Have you decided to take him back?”
She willed herself not to flinch before his fiery gaze but she was caught like a nocturnal animal transfixed by bright light. Blood thrummed in her veins.
Yet she managed to croak, “I already told you I have no interest in Stone.”
He moved even closer, leaning over her until she felt his breath on her face. Her heart thundered in her ears.
“He can never make you feel the way I can, Adriana,” he said, voice low, harsh, throbbing. “He can never take you to the highest pinnacle of ecstasy.”
Indeed. Her flesh grew warm. Her breasts swelled. Her knees seemed about to give way. She yearned to throw her clothes off right here and now, give herself over to him, a naked quivering offering.
He raised her chin with one hand, stroked it with a finger, let his lips hover over hers. Longing for his kiss, she opened her mouth, arched her neck, let her eyes drift closed.
Then, just as suddenly, he let her go. “No.”
She nearly collapsed, panted softly, finally opened her eyes.
He stood a few feet away, his back turned toward her. “I want you of your own free will.”
Now she was frustrated as well as angry. She straightened, finding her voice. “Meaning you think you can control me?” Over which she felt some doubt herself. To try to assert her own power, put him in his place, she said, “If I was cool when you appeared tonight, it was because I’d already heard about Lilly, It seemed strange that the two of us were the last people to see her alive . . . just like Eddie.”
“So you are back to accusing me of murder. When did I kill this girl? After I took you home?”
She refused to grant him quarter. “I suppose so.”
“And why should I kill her?”
“I have no idea. You aren’t big on explanations.” She supposed he would have to be a psychopath of some sort.
“You know that I did not kill Eddie.” He spun toward her, the fire in his eyes now mere embers. And he kept some distance between them. “I mourned him with you, paid for his burial.”
“True.” At least as far as the latter was concerned anyway.
“I mourn for the little prostitute as well. Though I cannot make the same gesture for her. It would compromise me . . . and you.”
“Right, we don’t want to forget that you must protect me,” she said, once more moved to sarcasm.
“It is the seemly thing to do, whether or not you dishonor me by accepting another man’s a
ttentions.”
What an old-fashioned-sounding statement. But Adriana was still resentful, dealing with anger. “If you’re talking about Stone . . . again . . . I’m not even going to bother responding to the accusation.”
“Then come home with me, Adriana. Now.”
She felt a wave of desire but fought it. “I have another set to do. I’m working.”
“I can wait until you’re through.”
“I don’t think so. It’ll be better if we put some space between us for awhile.” Perhaps they should even part forever.
She expected him to be furious but he remained detached, cool. “All right. Space. I will leave if that is what you truly want.”
She swallowed, again seeking strength. “I think it’s best.”
“Then I bid you farewell.”
She moved away from the door and he paused with his hand on the knob, an odd expression in his lustrous gold-brown eyes. She could swear they looked haunted.
“Be careful, Adriana,” he warned her. “There is a twisted man roaming the streets, someone who hates me. I do not think he would dare harm you, but he is aware of your existence.”
Like Panchella, she couldn’t help wondering if Val were acquainted with the murderer. “Are you sure you don’t know anything about this guy?”
“He is obviously a madman.”
An indirect answer because he himself was the real madman? Or was he making a conjecture?
“Take taxis home,” he went on. “Don’t spend your time alone.” He added, “And if you actually encounter danger, think of me. I’ll know where you are. I will come.”
“What do you mean, you’ll know where I am?”
But he was gone, his step so light, she heard no noise in the dark corridor outside.
Thoroughly creeped out by just about everything that had gone down that evening, Adriana collapsed in the insect chair and fought against tears. The curious weakness she’d felt the night before seemed to be returning.
Murder. Danger.
Darkness both without and within
For she must be self-destructive. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have found the one man on earth who could very well make an ex-boyfriend like Stone look like an amateur. Stone might swindle and pilfer, threaten if he had to, but he avoided anger and violence.
Darkness.
Even with her distrust, her fear, Adriana could only focus on Val’s departure, try to fight the overwhelming longing for him to return. The pain inside her was like an open wound.
CHAPTER NINE
HIS HEART HEAVY, his outlook grim, Val spent two nights roaming the city. On one hand he found himself regretting he’d given Adriana a free choice; on the other, he knew he would never be satisfied with anything else where a woman was concerned.
Not anymore.
He also told himself that if he really cared about Adriana, he should be willing to let her go. After all, their liaison would probably only lead to unhappiness.
His main concern should be the retrieval of his family’s heirloom, the reason he’d come to Chicago in the first place. With time on his hands combined with anger and grief, he searched for his enemy with renewed purpose.
On the second night, around midnight, he located Miklos Rakosi’s floating crap game. Having spread some money around the homeless community who wandered the streets near the Chicago River – a larger amount than necessary because Adriana had pricked his conscience on giving alms – Val heard about the gambling taking place in a deserted warehouse.
Two burly men stood guard outside the rundown brick building.
“Who are you?” one asked Val. “You don’t get inta this party unless you’re on the list.”
“I’m not on the list. But I will enter anyway.”
The thug took issue, reaching for the bulge beneath his jacket that must a gun. “I don’t think so.”
Before the weapon could be drawn, Val seized the man, throwing him back against the brick so hard, he whacked his head. As his companion sank to the concrete unconscious, the other guard whipped his gun out but found his trigger hand locked in a grip of iron.
“Ow-w! Damn it, you’re breakin’ my bones!”
Which was all the scoundrel managed to gasp before Val struck him, sending him lurching to the ground as well.
Taking one of the guns, a weapon he neither feared nor respected but thought would best serve his purposes for the moment, Val then opened the warehouse door.
Smoke hung low over the motley group of a dozen or so men who either crouched or stood about as one of Rakosi’s gang rolled the dice. No one turned a hair until someone noticed that Val was holding a gun on the group. Then there was a sudden silence, a stiffening of posture. Hands moved toward pockets or jackets, where Val knew other weapons resided.
He brandished his own pistol menacingly. “Do not try anything. I will shoot you where you stand. Where is Miklos Rakosi? My business is with him.”
Heads turned to the dice-roller.
“I don’t know where he is,” the man stated. “He ain’t showed up here yet tonight.”
“When is he expected?”
“Don’t know that either.”
Val approached Rakosi’s henchman, keeping his eyes on the surrounding host, no doubt all unsavory characters. “You had better not be lying.”
“I never argue with a gun.”
“Bullet holes are not the worst injury you can suffer.”
To illustrate his point, Val grasped the dice-roller by the throat, lifting him easily, one-handed. Training his eyes and the gun on the audience, he let the man hang, feet dangling, arms swinging at him uselessly, mouth gurgling as he choked. Fear paled many faces and the crowd drew back, murmuring.
Which made Val glower even more fiercely and bare his teeth. “I issue a warning, tell Rakosi to return the item he stole from the Kadars . . . and I will leave him alone. If not, he will soon wish he had died and gone to hell.”
Lastly, he threw the man directly into the throng, knocking several to the floor. There were yells and curses, a low grunt from the dice-roller as he regained his breath. A shot rang out as Val exited, but the bullet merely whizzed past his ear.
Outside, he sought the shadows and tossed his own borrowed weapon into the river. Good riddance. One less danger to a society that possessed far too many of such things.
Meanwhile, he scanned the area to find a hiding place with a good view of the warehouse – the roof of a building seemed suitable. Not that lurking and waiting would do much good. The treasure Rakosi possessed gave him special sensibilities.
Eventually, though, Val knew his path and Rakosi’s would cross. When that happened, he would likely have to risk his very existence to regain what had been stolen from him.
Not that life looked so inviting without someone with whom to share it.
Once more, Val felt Adriana’s loss like a stab through the heart.
“IN MATTERS OF THE HEART, I see that there is only one woman you will ever love,” Irina told a customer who’d paid to hear his fortune according to the Tarot.
Passing by the booth, Adriana was surprised when Irina glanced up to catch her eye, making a subtle but urgent gesture that meant she wanted to talk when the reading was finished.
Adriana nodded and pointed to the bar, indicating she’d wait there. Taking a seat on one of the tall stools, she ordered her usual tonic water from Peter who was full of gossip about mutual acquaintances.
After a minute or two, he brought up the subject he really wanted to discuss. “Heard you and Stone Drake used to live together. That true?”
“Uh, huh,” Adriana admitted reluctantly, not having taken any action on the Stone matter yet. And Irina had been the only club employee with whom she’d ever said much about Stone, even when she and the performance artist had been sharing an apartment. “I’d really rather not talk about Stone Drake if you don’t mind.”
“I see.” Peter winked. “Must be kinda tricky with the new guy hanging around and al
l.”
Adriana made no response to that, relieved when Peter was called away to make some fancy frozen daiquiris.
She already knew the whole staff of After Dark was buzzing about her and “her two men.” They were especially curious about the tall dark Hungarian and why she and Val had been questioned by a detective the night before. To Frank, she’d hinted that it had been part of the continuing investigation surrounding Eddie Szewicki.
It had been the strange situation with the murders that had made her decide to wait on talking to Frank about Stone. Since Val had threatened her ex-boyfriend and seemed to be a serious suspect with the police, she thought it best to avoid making waves.
Naturally, she also intended to avoid Stone himself. Which seemed surprisingly easy. For some reason – the threats from Val? – he was concentrating on his job and leaving her alone.
Val. She wondered where he was, what he was doing. After their argument and his cool departure, she seemed to be operating in a restless, drifting fog.
Not that she’d forgotten about the violence that seemed to lurk beneath his surface.
Or his claim that he had an enemy who was dangerous. Playing it safe, she’d taken a taxi home the night before and intended to do the same this evening. She also tried to be aware of the people who surrounded her.
Now she glanced about at the crowd, noticing nothing different or out of the ordinary . . . unless it was Irina scurrying toward her with an intense expression on her face.
“Come on.” Irina grabbed hold of her arm. “I’ve got something to show you.”
“Where are we going?”
“The ladies lounge. I need some light and Meggie will let us use her table.”
Meggie was the young woman who had a jewelry business set up in the bathroom’s anteroom. When customers checked their makeup and hair, she was ready to sell accessories to go with their outfits.
Adriana drew up one of the few chairs in the lounge, while Meggie offered Irina another.
Irina had barely hit the seat before she was pulling out a packet of photographs. She laid five on the jewelry table, looked around and lowered her voice. “I had these developed at one of those overnight places.”