by P. K. Abbot
By the time Brandon sped by Lord & Taylor, the Mercedes crested the hill behind him and caught sight of him again.
Brandon had just passed the Empire State Building and was waiting at the stop light at 32nd Street when the Mercedes at last pulled up close behind him.
When the light turned green, the Vespa rolled into the intersection and started to accelerate. The Mercedes lurched forward suddenly and crashed into the rear of the Vespa. The collision threw both Brandon and the scooter into the air. Brandon landed very hard in the street. The Vespa bounced on top of Brandon and snapped the tibia in his left calf, before landing a few feet away from him.
The Mercedes backed up a few feet. When Brandon tried to raise himself with his arms, the Mercedes inched forward, rolling over Brandon’s legs and torso, popping bones along the way. Brandon screamed until the weight of the sedan forced the air from his lungs and he could scream no longer.
The sedan backed up again, then rolled over Brandon one more time.
The sedan drove on at a moderate speed, turned toward the Hudson River, and disappeared from view.
Brandon Rush expired in the street, in a pool of his own blood.
Chapter 10
Alex led Ryan to the elevator, which took them to the mezzanine where the private room was.
Inside the room, Ryan noticed that the floor sloped downward toward a floor-to-ceiling wall of glass on the far side of the room. It was dark inside the room, except for the aquariums’ undulating, other worldly glow, which drifted in from the main room below. Alex touched a dimmer switch and adjusted the lighting to a comfortable level inside the private room.
The room was divided into three, tiered platforms. On the lowest tier, in front of the window, was a row of theater seating — black leather power recliners with side tables. They faced the window so that their occupants could watch the stage show and the activity on the club floor below. On the next level were a number of cocktail tables and chairs. And on the highest tier was a wide and deep divan or couch placed against the back wall. The back wall was covered in gold leaf, and the side walls were mirrored from one end to the other. A bar stood on the left side of the room.
Ryan was standing at the window, looking down on the stage and club below.
“That is a one-way window,” she said. “The other side is mirrored. No one can see into this room. Whatever you say or do in this room will stay between us alone.”
Ryan looked back at her and simply nodded.
“If I made you feel uncomfortable earlier tonight, Mr. Ryan, I apologize.”
“If you are going to be formal, Alex, it is actually Sergeant Ryan.”
“Oh?”
“But I definitely prefer Billy.”
“Certainly.” She smiled at him and asked, “May I offer you some refreshment, Billy?”
“Only if you will join me, Alex,” he said.
“Of course. Would you like vodka?”
He hesitated.
“Would it be so terrible to bend your rule a little... just between us?” she asked.
Ryan looked toward the window, paused for a moment, and then looked back at her.
“Sure...why not,” he said.
As Ryan selected a seat at the bar, Alex went behind the bar and retrieved a bottle of Stoli Elit from the bar’s freezer. Ryan was very attracted to her. She was wearing a shimmering turquoise silk dress, which accented her curves with its plunging neckline and flattering cut.
She set two rocks glasses on the bar and filled them each halfway with the vodka but left out the ice.
“A twist?” she asked.
Ryan nodded, and she put it into the glass with the vodka.
She picked up the two glasses and walked around the bar to sit next to him. As she set his drink in front of him, she brushed against him, and Ryan inhaled her perfume — a subtle scent of vanilla, morning rose, and Jasmine.
“You should enjoy this,” she said. “It is potent... yet discreet.”
“Thanks, Alex. Here’s to you.”
“And to you, Billy.”
As they toasted, he looked into those beautiful blue-green eyes and smiled at her, and she smiled back at him. She was uncommonly beautiful, he thought.
“I am truly sorry for making you feel uncomfortable earlier, Billy.”
“Why? I thought that I had disguised the details about my identity, but then I discovered that they were so plainly evident to you. Realizing that I could be so easily exposed is what made me feel uncomfortable.”
“Still, you are a guest here, and I should not have made you feel like that.”
“You are not to blame, Alex. You simply revealed what was obvious to you and most likely to many other people as well.”
He was quiet for a moment. He stared at his glass as he slowly swirled the liquid inside.
“If you would indulge me,” he continued, “I would like to know what else you can tell about me.”
“I do not believe that you know what you are asking me to do, Billy. I have not yet had the time to know you better. I do not want to hurt you again.”
He stared at her. “I simply want to know what else you know. Please, Alexis, I need to know this.”
She looked at him, hesitated, and then offered him a faint smile.
“If you insist,” she said. “I watched you from the moment you entered the club with Eduard. The first thing that I noticed about you, Billy, was that you have the eyes of a hunter. You are like a leopard on the prowl. As soon as you walked into the club, you started to assess the women, the prey available to you. You noticed the singer right away. I could tell from your eyes that she was very attractive to you, but she was on the stage, unavailable to you. Then you noticed the dancer at the bar. It was then that you decided to leave Eduard and to take a seat at the bar. I think that you were hoping that the more desirable prey, the singer, would come to you; but, if that did not happen, you would have been willing to take the dancer. But you must be careful, Billy.”
“Why is that?”
“This is not your part of the savannah. You may be a leopard expecting a gazelle, but in its place you may end up facing a lion. That is why you must be careful.”
He chuckled at what she had just said.
“Are we still talking about Oksana, or are we now talking about you, Alex?”
She smiled at him, but then she too became quiet for a moment.
“I sense something else about you, Billy. You are a predator, but I sense that you are also an injured predator. Something happened to you to make you this way. What was that something?”
“You are right, I guess. My mother died when I was young.”
“Tell me about her please,” she asked.
“I remember that my mother was a stunningly beautiful woman. She adored my father, and he was very much in love with her. She was also particularly affectionate with me. She loved playing and reading with me, but she also enjoyed teasing me in a good natured way in front of my friends. The three of us had the best family life. The first decade of my life was the happiest for me.”
“But your happiness did not continue, did it?”
“No. When I was twelve, a terrible thing happened. One Saturday my father and I were playing ball in the yard, when he told me that he did not feel well. He tried to walk to the house but collapsed on the lawn. His eyes rolled back in his head, and his face turned gray.”
“Oh, no,” Alex said.
“I called to my mother in the house. She burst through the door, her eyes wide with panic as she ran to my father. She screamed at me, ‘What is wrong with him? What did you do to him, Billy? – What did you do!’ She tried frantically to revive him, while I called for help. It was all hopeless, however. He had a massive heart attack. By the time the ambulance arrived a few minutes later, my father was already dead.”
“How terrible!” she said.
“He was the center of my mother’s world, and she could not bear his loss. She was distraught, and she was no l
onger thinking rationally. She seemed to blame me for his death somehow. She continued to ask me, ‘What did you do to him?’ She cried all day and all night for days after his death. Finally her physician gave her a prescription for a very strong sedative.”
Alex looked pained as she rubbed his arm and squeezed his hand.
“I am so sorry,” she said.
“After the funeral service, my mother withdrew totally. The house was filled with guests, and she sat in a chair, staring at nothing and talking with no one. People attributed her behavior to the shock of my father’s sudden death and to the effects of her medication. But it was more than that. That evening, after all of our guests had left the house, she swallowed her entire bottle of sedatives and went to bed without saying even one word to me.”
She saw tears welling in Ryan’s eyes now. She reached out, grasped the back of his head, and pulled him close to her.
“That must have been horrible for you, a young boy, to deal with all of that guilt.”
“I could not understand why she preferred to die rather than to live with me.”
“And you are still angry with your mother for abandoning you?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“Is that why you don’t form meaningful relationships with women? Why you see us as objects rather than people? Why you see us as prey sometimes?”
Ryan just looked at her and said nothing.
“Look, Billy, I am not criticizing you. I think that I am very much like you. I know this because something happened to me as well.”
Ryan looked at her skeptically.
“When I was an infant,” she said, “my father abandoned both my mother and myself. He left us no means of support, and we struggled to secure the basic necessities for life. At times, we had no place to sleep, and we had not enough to eat, but we did what was necessary to survive.”
She was very quiet now. She ran her finger along the rim of her glass. She seemed to be thinking about those times. She seemed as if she were about to cry, but she did not. Then Ryan broke the silence.
“Have you seen your father since then?”
“Twelve years ago he made contact with us again.”
“Do you have a relationship with him now?”
“I do see him, but my mother refuses to have anything to do with him.”
“Do you still love him?”
“I hate him.”
“Then, why do you bother to see him?”
“To use him, I suppose.”
“To use him?”
“Yes. He paid for my education. I studied at a private academy and graduated from Columbia University. I see my father occasionally now, but we do not have a loving relationship.”
She went on. “Because of my issues with my father, I think of men in the same way that you think of women. I understand you, Billy. We both were abandoned by a parent of the opposite sex, and we both have difficulty in dealing with the opposite sex because of that. We share an experience which few people can relate to. We have an understanding of each other which few people have. We are very much alike, Billy. We have a very special relationship.”
“Abandonment is our common bond then,” he said.
“Oh, it is so much more than just abandonment, Billy. We are very much alike. We have both experienced the dark side of life – the darkness that most people do not know exists. We are all born with some darkness within us, and a traumatic life event can bring that darkness to the forefront.”
“You are not saying that everyone has the potential for evil, are you, Alex?”
“I am, Billy. Everyone is born with some darkness within.”
“From my own experience, Alex, I can tell you that that is not the case. There are people who are evil, and there are people — the vast majority of people — who are basically good. Darkness or evil is not an abstract concept that exists independently outside of people. It is very real, but it does not exist universally within all people. There are incredibly evil people, and there are also very good people. They are not the same.”
“You simply have not seen it yet, Billy. Someday you will see it, and then you will believe that darkness exists in each of us. We must realize that there is darkness within us, because, when our darker nature rises, we must find a way to control it… or, if we cannot control it, we must find a way to channel it.”
“In my line of work, I have seen too many truly good people — innocent victims, first responders, medical professionals — to believe that we are all capable of evil. I am sorry, Alex, but I just cannot accept your theory.”
“Okay,” she said. She had decided that she would no longer argue with him on the issue.
He looked at her more closely now. She seemed softer to him than before. She no longer displayed that hard air of authority that she showed earlier to Oksana and Gabriela. She seemed more approachable now. She had become more attractive to him, and he wanted to change the tone of their conversation.
“Alex, I was surprised at how direct both Oksana and Gabriela were with me. Does the club encourage the girls to date guests or members?”
“No... But we don’t discourage it either. We will not allow prostitution at the club, but, if two consenting adults want to make a connection, who are we to stand in the way of love...or whatever that may be?”
“Have you ever dated a man from the club?”
“If the man interests me, I would date him.”
“Well, have you?”
“No,” she answered.
He noticed how flawless her light peach skin was and how inviting her full, pink lips had suddenly become to him.
“Perhaps you have not met an interesting man yet,” he said.
“No, I have not.”
“Until tonight?”
She smiled again to herself and continued to run her finger along the rim of her glass.
“I like you, Alex. Perhaps we could see each other again?”
She simply smiled to herself and looked at her glass as she ran her finger along the rim.
“What would be the harm, Alex? I’ve dated a lot of women, and I have never disappointed any of them.”
“Oh, you’ve satisfied a lot of women, have you?”
“I have never had one refuse me a second date.”
“How many women did you… ?”
“More than I can count,” he laughed.
She was laughing at him now. When he saw this, he tried to steal a kiss from her, to kiss her on her lips.
She quickly placed her hand over his lips.
“Not so fast, Romeo,” she said, but she was still laughing.
“You can’t blame a man for trying, can you?” he smiled.
He was still very close to her – their eyes only inches apart. She was still smiling at him, and her blue-green eyes seemed ready to laugh again.
“I suppose that I should be flattered,” she said, “since you satisfied so many women…”
Then she drew her face very close to his, brushed her cheek against his own, and whispered in his ear, “...but I wonder if any of those women ever suspected …” She paused here, and Ryan could hear the smile in her voice as she continued, “...if any of those women ever suspected that you were not making love to her ...that in your mind you were always fucking mommy...punishing her for leaving you and choosing death over you?”
Ryan could not control himself now. His face was livid with anger. Within an instant, he seized her by her throat.
Her hands went immediately to his. She did not remove his hand from her throat, but she pulled at his thumb and kept him from crushing her larynx.
He was sweating now and breathing very heavily. When he looked at her, he could see that she was still smiling at him.
“We all have some darkness, don’t we, Billy?” she whispered to him.
He pulled his hand away from her and turned away in disgust.
“I am sorry,” he said. Then he looked at his watch and saw that it was very late.
�
�I have to get back to my hotel,” he said. “My appointment is not going to show tonight, and I have to be in Trenton tomorrow afternoon. I will find my own way out.”
He looked at her and could see his red finger marks still on her neck.
“I am sorry, Alex,” he said. “Goodbye.”
Ryan extended his hand to her. She took it and drew him closer to her. Then she looked into his eyes and kissed him softly on the lips.
“Goodbye, Billy. I hope we do meet again,” she said.
On his way out of the club, Ryan found Eduard at his desk in front of the aquariums. Ryan walked up to him, took out his credentials, and showed them to Eduard.
“Yes, Mr. Ryan?” Eduard asked.
“Eduard, I am a Detective Sergeant with the New Jersey State Police. I had an appointment to meet one of your members here tonight. He claimed to be a material witness in a high profile murder case, but he did not show for our appointment tonight. It is imperative that I find out who he is. I will need to ask you to tell me who he is.”
“I am afraid that will be impossible, Detective. The club has very strict guidelines pertaining to the confidentiality of our members’ information. If our member has not given you that information, we are not authorized to do so. I am sorry.”
“But this pertains to a murder investigation.”
“That does not matter. Our guidelines still apply.”
“This is the investigation of the murder of Trey Jamieson – the son of Governor Jamieson.”
“I am sorry, Detective, but that still makes no difference.”
“Governor Jamieson has instructed me to contact him personally, should I encounter any obstruction with this investigation. I am sure that you realize that he is capable of creating tremendous pressure on this club if necessary.”
Eduard simply smiled and said, “It will make no difference, Detective.”
“Are you forcing me to get a warrant?”
“You can apply for all the warrants that you want, Detective, but it will do you no good. You will never get a judge to sign your warrant.”