Utopia: A Dark Thriller: Complete Edition

by Adam Steel

  Angela merely shrugged. It was a lot more than that, she thought. She was beginning to wish that she had invested in the necklace to go with it too.

  Alistair Crow stopped by the drinks bar and sloshed more brandy into his glass. His hands were shaking as he lit up a cigarette. He was looking at his wife (who was busy packing a set of new and expensive suitcases with her going-away things).

  She was ignoring him.

  The green ball-gown stretched out on her bed, like some scaly viper that had just eaten half his bank account. He was seething: boiling with frustration at his wife’s lack of reaction. Who did she think she was? This wasn’t the dithery bitch he was used to. He didn’t like the new Angela. He didn’t like the old one much either, but that one didn’t bring back ‘reptiles’ that ate money and had sparkling jewels for eyes. That Angela didn’t answer back either.

  His dark thoughts focused on the conference she was attending. Time for a few changes, he thought. I’ll fix this. I’ll fix her.

  ‘You’re not going anywhere. So you can put all this stuff back!’ he demanded menacingly.

  ‘Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to you cheating little whore.’

  Angela carried on packing, as though he did not exist, not bothering to look up while she spoke.

  ‘I’m going and you aren’t going to stop me. I’ve had enough of your unreasonable jealousy,’ she said firmly, as she continued to pack.

  Alistair Crow grabbed his wife’s arm and twisted it painfully: snarling at her.

  ‘I told you you’re not going anywhere. I know what you’re up to. You’ve got some creep on the side. Who is it? That guy at work you’re always banging on about. That chink Mr Li? Is that who you’re fucking?’ he demanded.

  Angela wrenched her arm free. He had left an angry red mark on her wrist.

  ‘Leave me alone. I’m not having an affair with anyone. I’ve never been unfaithful to you, Alistair,’ she said assertively.

  ‘Don’t give me that, you ungrateful bitch. I know you’re up to something. That’s why you’ve bought that dress, isn’t it?’

  He gestured at the ‘reptile’ on the bed. It seemed to grin back at him: looking very fat indeed. The jewels in its eyes sparkled at him.

  ‘Tasssssssty…’ it seemed to hiss. He could hear it in his mind.

  Alistair’s frustration boiled over.

  ‘You’re not fucking going! – over my dead body…you’re not!’ he screamed.

  Angela was thinking that she wished it was over his dead body, but then that would have been too simple.

  ‘I’ll cut you off, you hear me!? Consider your cards cancelled. Spend my money will you?’

  Angela just stared at him. It did not matter anymore. Angela was taking control of her own money from now on. The fat pig was just beginning to realise that.

  He was stomping around the room waving his hands in the air and yelling. He was pulling big drags from his cigarette. The fat man in his underpants reminded her of the scene from the Three Little Pigs, running around in a panic after the wolf had blown their house down. It was almost comical...And I’ll huff and I’ll puff…He certainly was, she thought.

  ‘You’re never getting your hands on any of my money again!’ he ranted.

  ‘See how you like that you fucking bitch!’

  He had gone very red in the face. She hoped that his high blood pressure might cause heart failure, but not until after she had left the building.

  Angela struggled with her cases to the door of their penthouse, still ignoring his outbursts. She put her cases down at the door, and felt in her pocket for the keys to their luxury penthouse suite. She shakily toyed with the keys, memories came flooding back of the first time that she had used them. She had been so happy back then. Alistair had been the perfect gentlemen, and she had married him after a very short romance. She had been so proud of him and delighted to move into his luxury apartment. Then the drinking had started, then, the jealousy and gradually it had eaten away all the love that she had for him.

  The ‘pig’ came trotting after her and stood, swaying, behind her. His breath reeked of brandy when he opened his mouth to give her yet another stream of verbal abuse. Angela started to open the door, but he slammed his ‘hoof’ down hard, holding it shut.

  ‘You aren’t fucking going! Get that through your thick head,’ he spat.

  Tiny droplets of brandy sprayed her face.

  ‘Get out of my way,’ she insisted.

  ‘You ain’t goin'…bitch,’ he spluttered.

  He couldn’t understand this new Angela. She did not cave in. The chink had changed her. He was sure of it. Angela only heard him ‘Oink’ and ‘squeal’. Angela felt the keys in her hand. She did not know how it happened, but something snapped inside her that moment. The keys jabbed hard into his flabby wad of flesh and he reeled back. She stamped down hard on his bare foot with the stiletto heel of her shoe. He squealed out loud. His glass dropped to the floor and smashed into pieces across the wooden floor. She gave him one shove back and he stepped back on the broken glass. As he was hopped up and down in agony she seized the chance to escape. Her heart was hammering in her chest, as she hurried down the corridor with her cases. She could hear him shouting and screaming abuse all the way along the corridor – even in the lift, until the doors swished shut.

  As the lift descended, she thought about Jon Li and smiled. Jon Li, who she had confided in one night when he had found her sobbing her heart out in the office back room, after everyone had gone home. Jon Li, who she had spilled out her troubles to, and who had arranged ‘very kindly’ for her finances to be put in order. Jon Li, who controlled the bank accounts, the staff salaries of public offices (including those of the civil law courts) and, of course that of Barrister Alistair Crow.

  Crow’s entire fortune (most of which had been amassed from Angela’s earnings) had already been transferred and was waiting for her in a new account at Eden City. About 7:45 a.m. (when they would be safely in the air) CURE Officers would be paying a visit to Mr Crow: courtesy of a tip off sent to them from an ‘unknown' source.

  Tap...Tap...Tap on the door.

  He would be there (still in his underpants, with bloody battered feet, stinking of brandy) when they arrested him for fraud. She pictured him being carted off in his underpants. The pig in the new prison outfit made her smile even more. The angry squealing played out a victorious tune, all the way to work that day.”

  ‘Thank you, Jon Li,’ she whispered to herself, as she put the little green bag and matching shoes neatly by the dress.

  She looked at herself in the mirror and thought, a new life in Eden for Ms. Angela Bitton.

  Just one more task to do.

  Just one last job for Jon Li.

  Room 1002: Sky-Scraper 1: Eden City

  Jon Li had never felt so relieved to get into a hotel bedroom before. He tossed his Lecturon on the bed, where it bounced and landed on the floor the other side. He dropped his overnight bag and suit holder on the bed and headed straight for the bathroom, ignoring the buzzing noise coming from the Lecturon.

  He caught sight of himself in the mirror, as he splashed cold water over his face. I made it without puking my guts up. He wasn’t looking forward to the banquet that had been arranged after the meeting. He would be expected to socialise, shake hands and nod politely. He hated the social engagements that came with the job. Thankfully for him, they were rare. They always made him feel awkward and uneasy. At the Masquerade Ball he had had Ellie to keep him company. Up here, he was alone. It was a chore that had to be endured.

  He was more interested in the imminent boardroom meeting that would be the precursor to the conference. He had some smart ideas for a systems improvement, and increased efficiency, which he wanted to discuss with Lance Powers, the head of finances for Eden. He had communicated with Lance Powers over the last year, since he had taken up the position of executive, via the up-link between Coney City and Eden. It would be the first time that he h
ad met him in person and he was excited about the challenges of implementing the new, phase two protocols, from Coney City to Eden.

  He found it frustrating that he and his colleagues were only given limited information from which to work. He was sure that if he knew the grander scheme of the financial system, he would have been able to make it more efficient. In fact, he was sure of it. He found some relief in being able to concentrate on what he loved doing, rather than worrying about Ellie.

  He lay down on the bed and tried to talk his body into not feeling motion sickness. He had been lying on the bed for a while, thinking about the boardroom meeting, when there was a gentle ‘tap’ on the door.

  ‘Just a minute,’ he called out.

  He sat up, ran his fingers through his hair. He knew that it was Angela Bitton knocking on his door. They had agreed to meet for a few minutes before the start of his board-room meeting.

  Jon Li opened the door to the ‘all-new’ Ms Angela Bitton. He smiled at her. I like to win, he thought, and we really kicked his ass.

  Angela smiled warmly back. That’s more like the Jon Li we usually see. He looks so much better now he’s freshened up and got over the air sickness. For one minute, back there on the copter, I really thought he would throw up. Alistair might well have been worried if Jon had been interested in me. Lucky Ellie. Royale’s going to eat him alive. I feel sorry for Ellie. She’s got no chance of holding her man with that cougar on the prowl. Angela was standing in the hallway, with a batch of papers in her hand.

  ‘We did it Jon,’ she said, wearing a cheeky grin.

  ‘We sure did. I believe that makes you a very rich woman,’ he answered, closing the door of his room behind him.

  ‘I know, wish I could have seen his face when he finds out. Serves the fat pig right,’ she said, and walked down the corridor with him.

  ‘I don’t need to see his face. The thought is good enough for me!’ he replied.

  ‘I’ll never be able to thank you enough for what you have done for me Jon,’ Angela said.

  ‘It was my pleasure. He got exactly what he deserved,’ Jon Li replied.

  Angela was smiling to herself. She was thinking about how good it felt to empty her ex-husbands bank account. Alistair Crow had been a crafty swindler, but he had not counted on Jon Li’s intervention. Jon Li knew what Angela was smiling about. It gave him a buzz to know that he had put Alistair Crow where he should be – bankrupt and in the hands of the CURE officers.

  ‘Is everything ready?’ he queried.

  Angela smiled and held up a small disc

  ‘All ready, Jon. Guess this means I’m out of a job,’ she quipped.

  He looked at the computer disc and smiled awkwardly.

  ‘Yes. Maybe me too. But even if that does happen, this is going to be worth it,’ he replied.

  Angela would not be returning with them to Coney City. She had given in her notice to Royale the week before. She had no intention of hanging around to suffer Katcher’s wrath when he discovered that she had not complied with his plan – which was to hide the work files from Jon Li. It was career suicide, but she did not care. With Jon Li’s help, she had enough credits to live comfortably to the end of her days and she had escaped Alistair. Privately she was worried for Jon Li. The contents of the disc would be catastrophic for Katcher, and she feared what might happen when he discovered their duplicity.

  They stepped into the lift. It was going down to the lobby, where the board-room meeting had been set up. The lift doors closed.

  Jon Li turned to her and said, ‘Of course. This does mean that I’ve got to fly back on my own. We’ll all miss you in the office.’

  ‘Thanks, Jon. You’ll be okay. Doubt Royale will miss me though. I’m just glad I don’t have to go back and work for her after tomorrow,’ she said, and then added ‘The only thing I’m going to miss is you, Jon.’

  ‘Likewise,’ he replied.

  Angela would be staying behind in Eden with her new life, and Jon Li had arranged a little company for her. Down in the lobby, Rexton was waiting for her. The two of them had hit it off, when Jon Li had given her a lift home. He had seen the chemistry between them, and had no real need of a chauffeur any longer. It was a final gift to her, for helping him deal with Katcher and his lackey, Maxwell Blunt.

  The lift rode downwards to the boardroom. As the floor numbers ticked down, Angela lightly touched his arm.

  ‘Jon…won’t you and Ellie consider coming to Eden with us?’ she pleaded.

  He looked at her in surprise.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he queried.

  Angela looked at the floor. There was a strange knowing look in her eyes.

  ‘You have plenty of money, everything you need. Jon, why don’t you get out of Fin-Sen?’ she pleaded again, this time, a little more forcefully.

  He laughed.

  ‘Are you worried about Katcher? Ha! Don’t worry. He’ll get his. Royale is in charge. Not him. Besides, I love this job!’ he said, boldly.

  Angela continued looking at the floor, and said nothing.

  The Board-Room: Ground Floor: Sky-Scraper 1: Eden City

  Jon Li walked through the large wooden doors into the boardroom. He felt a little flutter of excitement mixed with apprehension. He slotted his thoughts into an orderly fashion like moving beads on an abacus.

  There were no windows in the rectangular boardroom. The crimson carpet was deep and soft like a sea of blood. The room was dominated by the magnificent conference table which stretched its full length. It was a thing of great beauty and craftsmanship. He recalled the conference table back at Fin-Sen Headquarters and was irritated by Katcher’s choice. Katcher had chosen it some years ago and it had been far less impressive than the one he was now admiring. Katcher’s got no class, he thought. He felt a pang of jealousy at not having the control to install something similar at their offices at Fin-Sen.

  He assessed the table in front of him. He had no doubt that it had been hand made to order. He calculated the cost of such an item against its credentials and concluded that they must have overspent their budget for capital expenses for a whole month. He ran his fingers down the silken surface of the boat shaped table, as though he were caressing a woman’s body. Lovely. Solid Eastern Black Walnut. High end stuff. An import from the good old U.S of A. They have picked the scarcest and most coveted of native hardwoods they could find for this piece of art. The grain is fine – straight, the colour fabulous and rich, he thought.

  His mind raced back to his childhood in West Virginia. His family had taken a holiday to the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains where the Black Walnut trees grew in the wild. He almost felt sorry for the trees which had been cut down to make the stunning object, but then dismissed the idea, because he wanted one for the conference room back at Fin-Sen headquarters.

  He leaned over the seal of the masons (which had been inlaid in gold) and thought longingly. Gold inlay. No expense spared. Perfection…and that smell…it’s been hand rubbed with natural oil. Soft profile edging and real black leather seating to accompany it. I’d like to meet the person who designed and ordered this piece of history, they obviously have excellent taste. We should have one like it. No - better than it. Which he doubted was possible.

  A tiny, digital name-disk had been placed where each of the board-room candidates were to sit. Each one blinked with a different name. He found his place and sunk down into the plush seat. He put both hands flat down on the table. It felt cooling to touch. He had the urge to put his face down and kiss the object. He reminded himself that it was quite a ridiculous thing to do in public.

  He doubted that any of the boardroom candidates could appreciate the place where the magnificent thing of elegance had been born. He could. He had been there. He recalled holding his mother’s hand and standing in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, listening to the trees whispering in the cold mountain air.

  The seating arrangements had been carefully thought out. Masons Royale and Katcher had b
een placed at the head of the table. They would be facing the holographic screen, which covered the whole back wall. A large clock and minutes-recorder ticked away the seconds on the wall above the holographic screen. He had been placed next to Katcher. The Mayor of Eden, Governess Farquhar, had been placed the other side of him.

  He did not recognise the names of some of the other people around the table. It did not matter to him because he knew that each time a delegate spoke, their name would appear on the holographic screen. It negated the need for remembering ‘or forgetting’ a person’s name.

  Angela had found her seat, nearest to the screen from where she could insert the holographic disk at his signal. Maxwell Blunt, the SSA for Eden City walked in and sat down opposite to Jon Li. He did not acknowledge Jon Li. Instead, he was talking to three other men, who were taking their places along his side of the table. They were the Trio of Eden City analysts, Harvey Belushi, Henry Cribbs and Stephan Mark. They were all wearing the same suits and matching ties. He knew who they were from the descriptions that he had heard back in the Fin-Sen building. Descriptions like. “The terrible trio,” and. “How many analysts does it take to fuck up the system? Three if they are wearing matching suits and ties!” He had overheard a lot of amusing quips about them.

  Maxwell Blunt was making side glances at him. He could feel it. He did not make eye contact with Maxwell Blunt, rather, he avoided it altogether. The battle lines for the game were being drawn. The armies were moving into position. He knew of Maxwell Blunt and his sloppy sabotage efforts. He liked him even less than he liked Katcher.