Broken Serenade

by Dorina Stanciu

  “Teee! Teee!” she screamed writhing helplessly into the terrible claws of horror.

  * * *

  Timothy awoke slowly and peacefully. At leisure, his content mind sent him delightful messages that filled his soul with happiness. It was the second morning he was waking up in his lover’s bed. For a moment, he even thought that Vee was already up, and that she had begun to caress him. He could feel her leg moving rhythmically along his. He turned his head and saw her lying there beside him with her eyes closed. Her eyelids were quivering. In fact, her whole body had a slightly perceptible tremor. As he got up on his elbow, she started to moan, visibly in distress, and she called his name in repeated, barely heard whispers. Timothy touched her face gingerly with his fingers and his lips.

  “Vee, I’m here. Vee, my love, wake up! Vee…”

  Vivien opened her eyes, frightened to tears. She wrapped her arms around his neck and began to sob uncontrollably. He pulled her closer to his powerful chest and rocked her gently.

  “Shush, my love, it was only a nightmare. I got you now, baby.”

  Her mumbling sounded like an excerpt from a Dadaism poem. After a while, her crying subsided, and her words began to make some sense.

  “I saw her, Tee,” she said through sobs. “Now I know she’s not dead. And she wants to avenge the death of her lover. That’s why she’s back! She wants to kill you this time, Tee!” she uttered terrified.

  “Vee, calm down, my love! Nobody is going to kill anyone. You had a bad dream, that’s all. Whom did you dream about?”

  “Mademoiselle Lili. And it’s not only my dream that I’m worried about. I actually saw her in the flesh! I did! She came to Arlene’s memorial service. She was inside that church. As she left, I caught a glimpse of her ankle, the one with the birthmark. I even felt a faint whiff of her favorite perfume.”

  “Vee, Lili is dead,” Timothy said calmly. “I saw her corpse. It was the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

  “It wasn’t her body, Tee…” Vivien argued.

  “Vee, put a stop to this madness.”

  “But I saw her. Why can’t you believe me?” she insisted.

  “Vee, you had a nightmare. Now pull yourself together, baby! Lili is dead. Period. Don’t trouble your mind with such a thing. Just stop thinking of it,” he said, kissing her tear-wet face. “Make love to me and forget all that’s sad and bad in this world,” he urged her.

  “Tee, how many breasts did the corpse have?”

  Timothy sighed exasperated, but continued to kiss her.

  “Vee, please! Maybe you should consult a doctor, baby. Sometimes it helps. It’s worth to try. I’ll come with you if you want me to. It worries me to see you so affected by a bad dream.”

  “Tee,” Vivien called firmly, holding his head in her hands. “Look at me!” she asked him, lifting his head from her naked bosom. “I’m not crazy. OK? I’m terribly scared, that’s all. Now, answer my question. Please. How many breasts did that dead body have?”

  “What do you mean? Two, of course. Half incinerated, but surely two.”

  “Come with me,” she demanded flatly, getting off the bed.

  Timothy groaned frustrated. He wanted her so badly. Vivien hurried toward the door. His eyes followed her, mesmerized by the reflections of her skin in the warm light of that sunny winter morning.

  In the doorway, she paused and called him again.

  “Tee, come along, honey! Please! You must watch something. It’s going to make you reconsider what you witnessed that day.”

  The man heaved a long, deep sigh and obeyed reluctantly. His hungry gaze refused anyway to be torn away from her body.

  In less than a minute, Timothy was watching Igor’s tape. Taken aback by the intriguing scenes, he was mostly speechless through the entire film. From time to time, a softly spoken “Oh, my God!” left his lips. As the tape ended, he hurried to voice his inculpability.

  “Vee, that’s not me in that jacket,” he said in an unwavering tone. He was starting to get over the initial shock. “You have to believe me. I did have a jacket like that one, but I lost it at a baseball game a couple of weeks before the wedding. Someone could’ve stolen it from me. And I had no idea about these women’s… unusual relationship. It never crossed my mind that Nadine would have such sexual preferences. At least now, I can explain why she never slept with me. I was so naïve to believe the lies she told me, that the wedding night was a special night for her,” he added smiling ironically.

  “Well… It must’ve been special indeed, but in a terribly wrong way, I’m afraid. At least for her, poor Nadine.”

  “Who gave you this tape?”

  “Igor. Just before the accident. Well, it’s a long story. Actually, he left it for me at the studio. But that’s not important now.”

  “Is this the reason why you suspected me of killing Nadine?”

  “Partially,” Vivien admitted embarrassed. “But now, I hope you understand why I think that Mademoiselle Lili is not dead. She missed a breast. You noticed that. The burned corpse you, people, found in that house was someone else’s. I know you didn’t kill Nadine, Tee. I wouldn’t believe it even if you told me that you killed her. Still, I have this intuition that Nadine is dead. Igor thinks so too.”

  “Maybe Lili killed her,” Timothy suggested, surprisingly composed. “Because she wanted to marry me. Lili could’ve done it out of jealousy. However, I can’t imagine how she convinced her to write that absurd letter she signed your sweet love. I’m absolutely sure it’s Nadine’s handwriting. And it doesn’t seem that she’s been forced to write it. It shows beautiful, precise, unstressed calligraphy. I still have it in a drawer somewhere - a sad memento of that day. I kept it on purpose, as a reminder that I shouldn’t trust women.”

  Vivien bit her lip and smiled sadly. Timothy touched her face gently and followed the contour of her lower lip with his thumb.

  “But now it’s time to throw it away,” he said, leaving a quick kiss on her forehead.

  “That letter wasn’t written for you, but for Lili,” Vivien told him. “I think Nadine truly loved you, Tee. She really wanted to marry you.”

  “How do you know all these things, Vee? You were only eight years old,” he said sentimentally, looking at her from head to toe, as if he were seeing her for the first time after all these years. Without another word, he gathered her in his strong arms and pressed her on his hard and desire-filled body. The skin-to-skin feeling sent waves of pleasure through both of them.

  “A few hours before the planned wedding, I was in Lili’s house,” Vivien spoke with her lips on his chest. “Nadine was there with her. I was probably the last person – besides Lili, of course – to see Nadine alive. Can you see, now?” she asked, lifting toward him her fairy-like eyes clouded with passion. “I’m not that crazy,” she stated, guiding him boldly to her welcoming paradise. “Maybe… a little,” she smiled seductively, moving her hips, eager to receive him even deeper.

  “But I am, Vee,” he admitted in ecstasy. “I’m crazy… about you, my love…”

  With his right pointer finger, he traced a winding line that started from between her round and full breasts and descended to the point where their bodies united.

  “I’m so madly in love with you,” he whispered in her hair.

  Sometime later, they were lying on the living room sofa still closely embraced, breathing on each other’s lips, and waiting for their pulses to return to normal.

  Vivien’s landline phone began to ring.

  “Don’t pick it up,” he pleaded with her.

  “It is mom. If I don’t answer, she calls again… and again… and again… The more she calls, the more explaining I have to do. Or even worse, she leaves a message longer than the answering machine’s tape.”

  “Tell her that you couldn’t pick it up because you were making love to me.”

  “Good morning, mom!” Vivien greeted on the phone, as she signaled Timothy to keep silent. “I’m fine. S
afe and sound! You shouldn’t worry about me. And you don’t have to check on me every single morning, mom,” she added in a hurry.

  “I didn’t call yesterday,” Alison Hopkins exculpated herself from her daughter’s insinuating remark. “You did, Vivien dear. Suspiciously early, I noticed! Anyway, who’s with you, Vivien?” her mother asked confidently.

  “How in the world did you find out so fast? Ok, mother. It’s better you hear it from me directly. Tee is here. We spent the last couple of days together. And I’m… I’m very happy, mom.”

  “Oh!” her mother exclaimed surprised. Obviously not pleasantly surprised, as Vivien sensed. “I thought your boyfriend was with you. You should give that poor guy a chance, dear. He’s a delightful person, and he comes from such a good and influential family! ”

  “Mother, Mark is history. Tee is my boyfriend now.”

  “Yes? Aren’t you a bit too hasty, child? You didn’t even mention his name the day before yesterday. And now he’s your boyfriend? I want to talk to him,” she demanded firmly.

  “Mother,” Vivien lamented, rolling her eyes.

  “Only a few seconds, dear. No need to panic, just put him through,” her mother insisted.

  Vivien handed Timothy the receiver. Her darling face wore an embarrassed, childish expression.

  “She wants to talk to you,” she whispered. “Can you bear it?”

  Timothy nodded enthusiastically and took the receiver. He intended to get off on the right foot with his most likely future-mother-in-law.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Hopkins!”

  “I don’t doubt for a moment that the morning is extremely good, especially for you, young stud,” Alison Hopkins replied quite stiffly. “You’ve been screwing my daughter all night long, haven’t you?”

  Her unfriendly and quite spicy tone took Timothy aback. He recovered quickly and answered her question to the best of his knowledge!

  “Well… yes. More precisely, I made love to your daughter last night and the night before,” he informed her.

  Vivien blushed and covered her face with her hands. She gave a muffled giggle on his shoulder.

  “Is that so?” her mother scoffed at his reply. “What I’m going to tell you now, young man, shouldn’t find its way to Vivien’s ear in any way. That, of course, if you don’t want me to put you directly on my black list. So, it’s all clear now?”

  “Absolutely, Mrs. Hopkins,” he answered in his most pleasant voice.

  “Listen, Don Juan De California! Don’t imagine that I don’t know who you are and how you treat women. Vivien means the world to me…”

  “And to me,” he said quickly. “I swear to God!”

  “Don’t… interrupt me, Timothy!”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Hopkins.”

  “Vivien loved you ever since she was a child. She adored you, and it seems that for some unknown, strange reason she still does. If you dare to break her wonderful heart, I’ll break your balls. Literally. As simple as that. Tooth for a tooth and eye for an eye! Got it? Good! Now, smile nicely, bid me goodbye, and let me talk to my daughter, Ok?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Hopkins,” Timothy uttered and flushed lightly. “Thank you for the wonderful wishes. You have a great day too!”

  He returned the receiver to Vivien, barely containing his laughter.

  “She’s something else,” he whispered amused.

  “Isn’t she a sweetheart?” Vivien said, beaming.

  “Yes, indeed,” he acquiesced promptly. “She’s the perfect…mother-in-law.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Detective Leonard was definitely a matutinal person. Morning was his favorite part of the day. He loved mornings even for the fact that he could eat at breakfast anything he wanted – especially his to-die-for omelets made with spinach and mushrooms.

  Art Leonard hated evenings and nights - particularly the cold and rainy ones – and his empty and frigid bed. My description could contour quite well the portrait of a suicidal man, he thought, as he stepped hard on the accelerator to beat a red light. His ex-wife had walked out on him more than two years ago. He was paying child support for his two children, but he wasn’t able to see them as often as he wanted. Not in the least. His ex-wife had moved on purpose on the other coast. Art was living in a modest apartment in Redwood City now. That was all he could afford after his ex-wife’s divorce lawyer had practically plundered him.

  Robert Kane, on the other hand, was the most unlikely person to give up on his life so easily. The successful civil engineer apparently had endured no sentimental problems, and financially, he had been solid as a rock. Before he had allegedly put a hole through his head with an unregistered gun, he had left a farewell text-message to his wife of fifteen years of a happy marriage. In fact, that was the only text-message he had ever sent. Strange, the detective reflected.

  To park his car, Art Leonard chose the furthest parking space he found at Stanford Plaza, even though the mall was almost deserted at that early hour in the morning. He grabbed the sealed plastic bag with Kane’s cell phone in it and strolled toward Macy’s department store.

  The young woman in the perfume department approached him promptly. She wore an ethereal smile on her lips that shone with quality lip-gloss.

  “Good morning, sir! How may I assist you?” she initiated the conversation.

  Detective Leonard adopted a rather penitent tone. He knew from experience that the trick worked in most cases.

  “I have a difficult problem to solve,” he started, knowing that he would not buy anything and feeling somehow guilty. He was going to encroach on this young seller’s time, and incidentally, he found that she was a real femme fatale.

  “I would be glad to help you,” she offered politely.

  The detective pulled out Kane’s phone from his pocket. He opened the plastic bag and made desperate efforts not to contaminate the object inside with his thick and clumsy fingers.

  “This cell phone has a mysterious feminine scent. I’m not an expert, but I believe it’s an expensive perfume. Could you possibly tell me, without touching it, what fragrance brand is it?”

  Her brown, perfectly contoured eyes treated him briefly with a certain expression that Art interpreted it without mistake.

  “No, no, I’m not a lunatic,” he highlighted with an awkward smile. “I’m a detective.”

  “That explains,” the woman breathed a sigh of relief. “And that’s a dead man’s cell phone,” she pointed out.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Intuition.”

  You’d make a damn good detective, cutie!

  Art Leonard lifted the black cell to the woman’s face. Amused, he noticed that the ivory face powder she was wearing didn’t integrally manage to mask the piquant freckles on her small, pretty nose.

  “Obsession, by Calvin Klein,” she declared on the spot.

  “Are you absolutely sure?”

  “No doubt whatsoever!”

  She turned around. From that multitude of perfumes that populated the metal and glass shelves, she picked up an oval bottle with a dark brown lid. She sprayed a few drops on a testing paper strip and handed it to him.

  “Perfect,” he said, satisfied, stealing a glance at her ring finger. She didn’t have anything on it. A transient thought passed through his brain involuntarily. How would it be like to return home to a woman like that? Madness, pure and simple!

  Art Leonard babbled a short “thank you” and walked hurriedly toward the exit. He felt a bit embarrassed, as if the woman were able to read his daring thoughts.

  “Detective,” she called out. “You forget your scarf, sir!” She giggled charmingly and buried her perked little nose into the garment’s thick texture. “Hmmm… Polo for Men, my favorite male fragrance,” she whispered boldly, and then she handed him the scarf. “Come and buy a new one when you finish it.”

  “I believe… tonight I’ll use the last drop,” he mentioned, pleasantly surprised.

  “The sooner, the better,” she chir
ped happily.

  * * *

  It was definitely hard; it was next to impossible to find a parking spot on a residential street in Menlo Park on an early Monday morning.

  Police officer Nick Alberman cursed silently as he drove around the enormous Waste Management truck that collected the garbage. The awful noise, and the pestilential smell it exhaled, stretched Nick’s patience to the limits. He rolled up the window swearing nervously. He didn’t need this stupid truck to drive him nuts this morning. He already had multiple other issues that gave him headaches.

  “Like the lack of a parking space, for example,” he mumbled alone, even though he knew the real reason of his bad mood too damn well.

  His girlfriend of over 2 years had asked him to make a decision. She wanted children, and she wanted a family. She had given him an ultimatum that morning. “I can’t wait forever,” she had told him. The message left by Miss Hopkins had helped him evade a particularly difficult discussion with a possibly terrifying conclusion. He loved his girlfriend, but marriage was not on his list. At least not yet! The examples around him were not highly encouraging either. Most of his fellow police officers and detectives were either divorced or separated. The perspective of a failed marriage appealed to him as much as monkhood.

  Miss Hopkins had not been very explicit in her message. Now, a fancy car stationed beside hers kept him from going directly to her door. After circling around a second time, Alberman found that the silver Mercedes had vanished. He entered her driveway and parked behind the young woman’s Lexus. He checked himself into the rearview mirror, straightened his tie, and climbed out of his car. As he stood in front of her door, Nick got the chance to push the doorbell button only once. An adorable, radiant Vivien Hopkins popped up instantly from inside the house. She wore no make-up at all and was dressed only in an oversized blue T-shirt that left exposed to his view her long and gorgeous legs. He stared at her bewildered. It occurred to him that if his girlfriend had known where he had headed after their earlier fight, she would’ve dumped him that very morning. The mere thought left him horror-stricken.