Crossing the Line

by Solomon Carter

  Now she had the proof. Victor Marka was demented, absolutely insane. The things he said made sense, in context, and as she looked back, she saw many were probably true. Back then as events unfolded, they made her think Dan Bradley was a selfish loser, a scumbag who didn’t care for her life or career, a man cracking up and taking her down with him. All of those things had happened as a result of the Tregenev case, and pursuit of Marka. But she could not believe the conspiracy at all back then. Yet from the moment Parker appeared, her own version of reality had been disturbed, and she had learned bit by bit that nothing was as she had thought. Nothing at all. She hoped her face was passive, inscrutable.

  “You made mistakes too, Marka. You think you are a genius? What about Devon Parker? What about the Somalis?”

  “Experiments. When an artist paints, sometimes he paints over his mistakes, and still he produces a masterpiece. Devon Parker? What did you make of him? He was an imbecile, yes? But he served his purpose. He caused you to disrupt the life of the fat toad who wants to eat into my businesses. I had no aspiration for Parker to do more other than cause irritation. He was too old, too past his best to be of real use. But he was close to Bradley and you trusted him. It was enough for me. That he died, well, he received the reward he was due. The Somalis? They are present, so we deal with them. They are the conditions we work with. Like the weather, we cooperate with the weather, we accept it, or we deny it, no? If we deny it, the weather still exists. I used the conditions to help my cause.”

  “So you fear them?”

  Marka shook his head and blew smoke into the air. “Of course not. If weather can be changed I am the man to change it. I bide my time, that is all. Now, please, Eva, indulge me. Why did you waste your life in this distasteful mess?”

  “You mean helping Dan? I did what I thought was right.”

  “Wrong. The man was beneath you. You should have rejected him. He is the biggest mistake you ever made, I know because I have the perspective, the distance to see it. You should have stayed out of this altogether and taken the chance I gave you.”

  “The chance you gave me? You ruined our lives!”

  “No. I ruined his. I saved yours. I gave you the chance to reinvent yourself when he was imprisoned. And you repaid me with this escapade at my newspaper building. You do realise that no matter how much I would like to spare you from punishment, you have given me no choice. It is against my code and I have to live by rules. Such things help emperors stand above the crowd and keep the hordes in order.”

  She said nothing. She would not be beaten by this arrogant bastard.

  “So, on to business.” His voice changed and he stubbed out a cigarette. “Here are your options. This is how much I respect you. I can be frank with you now because everything from here is in my hands. You cannot escape; at all, this is certain. Bradley has no chance of rescuing you here. My men are posted downstairs and in the hallway outside. For you now it is as if we are the only two people alive. Your whole world has shrunk to this apartment. Believe me.” He paused and let his words sink in. “I know a lot about you, Eva. You underestimate yourself, you could have achieved much more. But those opportunities are over now. You are beautiful and sadly you have wasted your best years on a fool. You are still in your prime, but in a few years, this will be gone. A beautiful woman is a good wine in season. Your season is here, but will be over very soon.”

  “You really know how to woo a lady. How was charm school?”

  “We are past flattery now. This is time for truth.”

  Now Eva’s eyes began to scan the room, using her peripheral vision to take note of any obstacles without letting on her intentions.

  “So Marka, you’re a genius. You’ve got it all worked out. Dan’s life, and now mine.”

  Marka shrugged. “You’ve given me no choice. You had a chance, Eva. But now you have only two options left.”

  “Which are?”

  “One. Survival. You live here and only here. My staff will attend to your needs. You will have minimal rights, you will be mine of course, but at least you will live. ”

  Eva didn’t reply, but she felt queasy. She saw the hungry desire in his eyes, she knew Marka had set himself off with confessing his urges.

  “Or I take what I want by force and dispose of what is left. I will use excessive force. There will be no half-arsed jobs.”

  “How many women have turned down this beautiful offer?”

  Marka shook his head, “Eva... I would rather you accept my proposal.”

  “I find it interesting, that’s all.”

  “Stop talking. Please. Or I will start hurting you and Daniel Bradley will receive the evidence in carrier bags.”

  Eva was unbowed and not ready to die just yet. She needed more time – to find his weak spot, to get him exposed, and to wait for Gillespie’s mob to arrive, if they ever could.

  “I know what you are thinking. You are think you can bide your time until you can escape. But there is no way.”

  There is always a way.

  There were vast windows all around, but there was also a sheer drop down to the concrete quayside. A quick fall to sudden death. There was the straightforward path to the front door, taking on the Russian’s henchmen into the bargain. They knew she was dangerous now, so she could not rely on the power of surprise again. No. Death was out there. And here with this grotesque man, death was here too. It was a death that lied, cheated, promised agony, and spoke with a mouth full of empty words. But it was death all the same. She scanned the room still, evaluating the weapons and escape routes. Marka watched her with amusement. There was a hatstand, umbrellas, and there was porcelain, none of it was of any use. Except maybe that…behind Marka on his right was an oversized brass candelabra, as theatrical and ridiculous as the man who owned it. There were sculpted chains and gargoyle faces along its surface. It looked heavy enough to break bones if she lifted it high and swung it well. Further on, behind the vast brushed steel drawers and cupboards of the kitchen would be knives and cleavers and all the things a pretentious chef would own. Knives had proved useful so far. She blinked so he could not see her eyes linger or read her thoughts. But he was trying to, she felt it. His gaze was fastened on hers. She saw his chest rising and falling a little unevenly now. He was barely able to keep his breath steady let alone stay in control.

  “It won’t work, Eva. Whatever you are thinking, unless you surrender, it will do nothing but make you die in the worst ways a woman can ever die.”

  “Come on, Victor, you really don’t want me to surrender… not entirely… do you?” she said. With survival on her mind, she changed her tack; she shifted in her chair and leaned back into her seat as she crossed her legs so that his eyes would follow her body and land on her knees.

  Confused, he sat upright, and pondered.

  “You talk about the truth, Victor. You think you know me, Victor, but you really don’t.”

  “Don’t play games - they can only backfire upon you.”

  “You’ve read up on me and maybe you’ve watched me, but you were really just watching Dan. Because I think you got as obsessed with him as he did with you. I think you know it… and I know you won’t like it, Victor, but I’ve got to be honest with you. Because when you look death in the face, honesty is pretty much all you’ve got.”

  “What?” He was tense, anger flickering across his face as he smoked.

  “You know you haven’t beaten Dan yet and for all the show you’re putting on, you’re outraged mostly because you know Dan has gotten under your skin. Someone you regard as just a cockroach almost sent you to prison. More than that, he was able to drive you mad and make you burn with anger for him. And you didn’t want that, because you are so much more important than a small man like Dan. Am I right?”

  Marka said nothing. He wiped a hand across his brow, feeling the sheen of his own sweat. She shifted her body just a little, so his eyes fell on her legs once more.

  “Playing with lives isn’t like the cross
word, Victor. It’s a real life game, and it works two ways. You can get hurt even when you think you’re above it all. You can find out that when you thought you were winning, really you were losing all along. But that’s life, isn’t it? Life’s always just so ironic, no matter your station in it.”

  She managed a smile, a big beaming smile. She had never really been a flirt, had never liked playing the tart, but right now she needed to confuse him. He was just another man and giving him enough mixed signals would keep him off-guard. She spun her body gently, just a little, and played the flirting game she had seen her friends play so well. She turned her hip towards him and crossed her legs tightly pressing them together, angling them gently. She didn’t overdo it, this was about subtlety. This was about the longer game. She saw his eyes catch the movement, and his thoughts were lost. He gazed at the shape of her hip, tracing the line of her thigh down to her knee.

  “No one wins against me, Eva. Ask my enemies. No one can answer. Not Dan Bradley, and not you. Let me remind you of your choices. Your time is running out, so listen up or I will change the rules.”

  Eva let her eyes smile while her heart thudded along quicker than the clock. His face changed again. “What do you mean…that I do not know you?”

  “You think you know me. But I am not who you think I am.”

  “Go on. Let me hear it. Charm me.”

  “I don’t want to charm you, Victor. I want to warn you.”

  He laughed out loud.

  “A lot of people have underestimated me. Parker did for many years.”

  “The imbecile is dead.”

  “And Dan underestimated me too, but I knew I was always the more professional detective.”

  Marka nodded through a cloud of smoke.

  “But mostly, I underestimated myself. No matter how quickly I turned a case, or how easy I made it look, I was always the first to berate myself; before Dan or anybody else had the chance, it was always me. It is shocking when you look back at your life and see all the mistakes you’ve made all standing in a line like that. But now I see I was as good as I ever needed to be. I’ve never ever lost either, Victor. I’ve always succeeded in every task I set out to accomplish. My reputation was always excellent, for everybody except me. Because I’ve been driving myself so hard all these years I never stopped to see I was winning - until now.”

  “Nice speech. What am I supposed to do? Give you a round of applause?”

  “No.”

  Eva smiled and shook her hair gently so her fringe fell just across the top of her eyes. She leaned forward in her chair, knowing that her blouse would reveal a hint of cleavage. And then she whispered loudly,

  “It means I am ruthless, determined, strong, and ready to do whatever it takes to win.”

  Marka smiled.

  “You are right, of course. I really don’t want you to be too easy, Eva. I want to enjoy the challenge. Now you’ve made it interesting. So. Shall I tell you your choices again?”

  “Go on. Tell me.”

  “They’ve changed. I want to pick up your mobile phone and dial Dan Bradley’s number. I want you to leave it ringing and I want to take off your blouse.”

  “That isn’t a choice.”

  “That is your first choice.”

  “Or else?”

  “Or else… I’m going… to…”

  Marka dipped his hand into his jacket, which hung on the back of the sofa where he sat. Before his hand was free, Eva was out of her chair. She sprung across the space between them, past Marka, half out of his seat. Suddenly aware of her escape, Marka left his jacket and jumped from his seat towards her. With one hand, she swiped up the cold metal candelabra, her hands gripping it, but it was too heavy for the move and it fell thudding on the white carpet. Her heart stopped; she was exposed. She let it go and leapt to move past him, but as she moved, he hit her and she reeled away. There was no pain, just the shudder of the violence. She was knocked sideways, blood trickling down her lip, but she kept her balance and kept moving.

  “You are a beauty, Eva. I’m going to enjoy every second of this. Call him. Let him hear every little yelp of pain and pleasure. It will be exquisite.”

  She didn’t look back. By now he would have the weapon in his hand. A gun? A knife? If it was a gun, she would be dead. The pistol she had taken from the Germans was gone, taken away back in Brixton. Her feet touched the cold tiles of the kitchen floor.

  She looked around the kitchen feverishly, snatching at the flat shiny drawers with no handles, hoping to find the drawer that would reveal a knife.

  “Turn around. Now. Do it slowly.”

  Eva froze, took a breath and began to turn. Marka stood by the sofa with a glimmering silver pistol in his hand, aiming at her approximately, but not carefully, his arrogance on show again. He seemed lazy about his aim. He was confident, and he was drunk.

  “No one has ever beaten me. And you say no one has ever beaten you. And I like that, Eva. I do. So I am not going to beat you… yet. I am going to let you live, untarnished, until you have to die. And I will allow you a little dignity. In return, I need entertainment.”

  She breathed in deeply. His chest was rising and falling quickly.

  “Take off your blouse.”

  “Where’s the dignity in that?”

  “You have beauty, Eva. There is dignity in that. Your beauty is keeping you alive.”

  She hesitated again, breathing deeply, thinking it through. The rescue committee were still nowhere in sight and she needed to believe they were coming. She needed more time. Her hands fluttered upwards. She began to move her hands towards the buttons on her blouse, slowly. Marka looked eager, greedy even.

  “Good. Very good.”

  She blinked it out of her mind, the loss of face, the shame, the burning indignation, and undid the first button. Her eyes looked high, away and directed to the ceiling, looking to the left as if she could avoid him that way. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. She had promised herself. Her eyes glazed with involuntary tears, angry tears, her eyes all the time looking upwards. Then she noticed something even further to the left, high up. There, on a magnetized strip, on a metal galley which hung from the ceiling, were a row of extremely neat, elegant long knives. The tears fell, but the emotion gave way to a new feeling. She looked back at Marka, a smile gradually creeping across her face, deliberate, and full of promise. Through teary eyes, she tried her best version of alluring.

  “I’m just not used to this,” she explained, mock shy.

  “I don’t want you to be used to this,” said Marka. “If only Bradley could see you now."

  “I wish you wouldn’t mention him. It puts me off.”

  She undid another button.

  “Then don’t think of him. Just take it off.”

  She chuckled, her own laugh sounding hatefully false to her ears. Marka paid no attention. He watched her chest, and the lowering buttons.

  The buttons lowered again. There were two left. A long thin triangle of flesh from the bottom of her bra to her navel was exposed, Marka reveling in the sight, in excitement.

  She wavered, hoping, waiting. Marka sweated. He looked up at her eyes, and waved the gun at her gently. Her hands hovered over the last buttons.

  His gun wavered. There was a faint noise – a thud, smothered into a dull sound by the walls. It was there, and then it was gone. She looked at Marka, Marka looked at her. They had both registered the sound, but he was still watching her, ravenous. He’d dismissed it. He pointed the gun at her blouse.

  “Take it off.”

  “I told you. I’m not used to this.”

  “I don’t care. Take it off.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. DO IT!”

  Eva thought she heard another noise, more muffled sounds from afar, but Marka was busy now, eyes all over her.

  She undid the last button. The two triangles of her skin – chest and stomach became a strip of pale flesh. She hated him. She felt exposed, suddenl
y feeling just a weak girl.

  “Now, take it off.” He said, triumph in his voice.

  “Do I have to?”

  “Of course.”

  The sounds had stopped.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Now!”

  “Okay.” She shook her head at herself, at the situation, then Eva crossed her arms and peeled her blouse out from her waist and pulled upwards. As she lifted up, the white cotton came high up over her face. Marka got swept up in the great reveal of Eva’s soft pale skin, and the delicate pattern of her bra, and the gentle movement of her breasts as her arms came down. And when the blouse came down, screwed up, tossed in front of her, he wasn’t ready for the new reveal. Eva had seized a blade from the hanging array. As the blouse landed on the tiles, a flash of glinting steel came, swept through the air. It landed clean and soundlessly into the high right section of Mark’s chest, by his shoulder. He howled. A shot went off, slamming into the metal kitchen high above Eva’s head. He had lost control of the weapon. Eva snatched another two knives and dropped down out of sight behind the steel counter. Marka was unseen, badly injured, but he was still alive, and had a gun. Eva was half naked and had only knives for company. The odds were against her; even so Eva reckoned she had a chance. And for a few seconds that was enough. Except five seconds later, everything changed. The world got split apart by the loudest noise.