Good Girl Bad Girl

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Good Girl Bad Girl Page 5

by Ann Girdharry


  Abandoning the rest of her smoothie, she headed for the underground.

  ***

  “Dr Scott has agreed to see you.”

  Kal smiled. So Richard Scott liked to puff himself up with titles. The male receptionist didn’t bother hiding his surprise that Dr Scott would see anyone on such short notice. The polite man in front of her clearly wasn't someone to pass comment - Kal judged him to be a theatre or arts lover, with a somewhat sensitive temperament. Maybe he was an out of work actor. He handed over a security tag and pointed to the elevators.

  “Please go to the top floor.”

  Her own reflection stared back at her in the elevator mirror. On impulse, she'd stopped by a department store to purchase and apply make-up. She pressed her glossy, dark red lips together. They stuck a micro-second longer than normal. Usually Kal avoided cosmetics, never quite seeing the point, but right now she wanted to make an impact and though she couldn’t explain the decision, she’d let her hair down too, and wore it styled over one shoulder in the same way her mother often did. Those two small adjustments added a touch of sophistication.

  As Kal stepped out of the elevator, Richard Scott's personal assistant glanced up from her desk. Kal noted the astonishment on the assistant's face, which the woman quickly suppressed.

  “Good morning, I'm Kal Medi.”

  “Welcome, Ms Medi, and if you don't mind me saying, you look as striking as your mother.”

  “Thank you.”

  Kal saw a blush rise up the woman’s cheeks and watched her struggle to find the right words.

  “I’m sorry to hear about your mother's disappearance, it must be hard for you.”

  “That's very kind.”

  An over-sized door of dark, exotic wood dominated the right hand wall. Glancing towards it, Kal shifted her weight from one foot to the other, hinting at her impatience. The assistant straightened up.

  “We'd better not keep Dr Scott waiting. Please go through.”

  Hugely thick and heavy, the mahogany door spoke of extravagance and of a colonial era long past. On the other side, she found a waiting area. Massive windows gave a panoramic view over the City. The famous, glass-covered landmark of the Shard soared to the skies. In the distance, lay the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben and beyond, rose the smooth, white curve of the London Eye, the capital’s huge, touristic Ferris wheel that attracted so many visitors. Winding and curving a route through the buildings and glass and concrete, the ribbon of the river Thames reflected the light, the surface of the water giving the impression of beaten, bluish silver. Only huge wealth could buy such a magnificent view.

  She turned her attention to the waiting area. An illuminated display stood in the centre where, underneath spotlights, an android hand clenched and unclenched with mesmerising fluidity. The shiny, internal metal structure of the hand was more like science fiction than reality.

  “Come through please, Kal.”

  A second mahogany door stood ajar. She pushed it open and Scott came forward, extending his hand.

  “I'm very pleased to meet you and I only wish it had been in better circumstances,” Scott said.

  Richard Scott had a deep voice and the smooth tone of someone who’d paid for voice coaching. Kal used all her skills to assess him. As her palm contacted his, her system reacted with an extra shot of adrenalin. Tingling sensations ran up and down her arms.

  “You must be going through a hellish time, my dear. Detective Inspector Spinks visited yesterday and explained everything.”

  Scott emphasised the word 'everything' and kept hold of her hand. He had a handsome face and white, European features and grey eyes. His whole expression seemed intent on reassuring her. Kal made a split second decision on her strategy, ignoring his irritating endearment and keeping her hand limp and helpless in his, as was her ploy when she wished to deflect from her own strengths. Yes, this man demanded delicate handling. He was used to being a king and because of that he’d be hypervigilant to any threat. To gain maximum information, she must make herself convincingly weak, winningly fragile.

  “Dr Scott, I...”

  “Please, call me Richard, and take a seat.” He watched as she moved to the double couch by the window and the quality of his attention surprised her. Not many people had high-end observation skills like Richard Scott.

  The leather of the sofa creaked as Kal draped one leg over the other.

  “Can I get you a drink?”

  “A mineral water would be nice, please.”

  While Scott’s back was turned, she studied him. A similar age to her mother, he was greying at the sideburns, his hair cut short, though not military short. He clearly worked out and wore a freshly-pressed, tailored shirt which highlighted his physique and he emanated authority except not from an advantage of height, since he was of average height, no, Richard Scott was unusual, he radiated power from within and he spoke with an abundance of confidence born of success.

  Kal switched her scrutiny to the room. It was large and notably sparse, housing a drinks bar, an enormous, sculptured bureau which held nothing but a tablet and a silver hard-drive, a plush couch and two armchairs and a coffee table which was a masterpiece of enamel embedded in glass. The only other adornment stood in an alcove by the side of the couch. It was a bronze statue of a naked woman. The woman was in a kneeling position and had her head flung back, hair streaming down behind, breasts thrust forward. On the far wall, an enormous window gave a second view of the London skyline. No desk-top clutter. Everything perfectly positioned. Every surface immaculate.

  Scott turned away from the bar. In publicity shots, he often had a beautiful woman on his arm, though allegedly he never had long-term girlfriends, a fact which triggered the press to speculate on his sexuality. She might concur with that. His gaze hadn't lingered for a moment on her dress nor on the exposed expanse of her leg. In Kal’s view, the naked statue was a ploy.

  Richard Scott’s sapphire cufflinks glittered as he passed her a glass. Scott's pristine personal appearance, and the room, spoke of someone who demanded perfection. Kal reclined and sipped her drink.

  Scott took a seat beside her, draping one arm along the back of the couch.

  “You must forgive me. It's been mega hectic this week. We've an important launch coming up and I’ve been so up to my neck in it I missed my usual date with Alesha, otherwise I'd have realised she was missing and notified the authorities myself.”

  Why would he have a ‘usual date’ with her mother? Kal shot him a quizzical look.

  Scott cleared his throat. “I see your mother hasn’t told you yet, well... she and I have been seeing each other for a while. We decided to keep it low-key until Alesha completed her contract with Capital Towers. You see, your mother has become a very special person to me.”

  No, it couldn’t be true. Surely Alesha would have told her? For once, Kal couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

  Scott swirled his drink, his grey eyes giving nothing away. The ice tinkled. Then he raised the glass to his lips. Not rushed, not hurried. No obvious sign of dishonesty though he displayed little emotion. Scott was successful in masking himself. Well, she thought, he'd make a great poker player, he must be used to veiling himself for his business affairs. No one got to the top in the city without knowing how to play at psychology and conceal their secrets.

  “I’ve hired a private agency and it’s the best in the business. You can rest assured they'll find her. I care about your mother very much.”

  Scrutinise him all she liked, Kal couldn’t detect any flaws in his delivery. As far as she could tell, Scott was telling the truth.

  “I see I’ve taken you by surprise. It really was so strange meeting Alesha because I was married to my work and business always came first. I see now what an idiot I was - I suppose it’s because I’d never been in love until Alesha. Your mother told me the only time she’d been in love before was with your fa…”

  Kal almost dropped her glass. That her mother find love after all th
ese years seemed impossible. Alesha would never have kept it to herself. Kal stared at Scott and she felt the power and dominance rolling off him in waves. A warning registered in the back of her mind – the only way she’d get further would be to play ‘I am helpless’ to its limit. The stereotypes took a few generations to die so better to make the most out of them - play it as her Ace card.

  “I’m sorry, I’m going too fast. I didn’t mean to upset you, please forgive me,” Scott said.

  “No, it’s not your fault. Everything’s been happening at once.” Kal flapped her arm in a hopeless gesture and dropped her eyes.

  “Is there anything I can do to help? Alesha talked about you often, she's so proud of you.”

  “It’s crazy. She's disappeared without a trace, without a word. She’d never do that; I know she wouldn’t.”

  “Please, I’m here to help, you only have to ask and I apologise I can’t spend more time today, you see we’re about to release our third generation product and my publicity team are demanding all my attention. I squeezed you in at the last minute and I’ve solid back to back appointments all day and half the evening. Though I’ve got a very special idea.”

  Scott leaned to place his glass on the coffee table and then sat back against the cushions. Her eyes followed the movement and a tiny detail in the background caught her attention. Whatever it was now lay blocked from view by Scott's body. With him staring straight at her, Kal couldn’t re-examine the desk area. Keeping her face relaxed, she blinked and concentrated. Yes, on some subliminal level, she’d noticed an important detail.

  “Your mother was going to accompany me to my Charity Gala. Perhaps you’d agree to come in her place and we could get to know each other a little better?”

  She left it a few seconds before replying. “Yes, I think that's a lovely idea.”

  Scott’s smile displayed white teeth of perfect alignment.

  “Excellent. My secretary will give you the details.”

  Already, Scott rose to show her to the door. “I’m sorry, I’m keeping my media team waiting. They’re ravenous out there about the new hybrid limb and we launch in two weeks. I’m afraid I shall have to go.”

  Kal walked with Scott and on the way she pretended to trip, making as if her heel caught in the deep pile of the carpet. It gave her an opportunity to throw a glance in the direction of the desk. Scott moved to steady her and blocked her line of sight. As Scott took her arm, Kal’s hand brushed his chest. The physical touch made her clench her abdominals.

  Scott gave no reaction. “Are you all right?”

  Staring at his buffed complexion, for a moment, Scott’s image seemed as manufactured as his office. As if his face could slip away like melting wax and reveal something utterly different. The signals weren’t right - no trace of personal in the office, everything luxurious and sanitised. As Scott stood close to her, the hairs on the back of Kal’s neck stood on end.

  “I'm sorry, I don't know what happened, I must have lost my balance.” Pushing her voice, she made it crack. “Everything's going wrong.”

  “Don't worry, you have my assurance we're going to find your mother.”

  “I can’t tell you what a comfort that is, thank you so much.”

  She dabbed at her eyes as Scott swung wide the mahogany door. In a few paces she was back in the waiting area, purposely slowing her footsteps and adding a little wobble as she skirted the display stand, until she sensed Scott no longer observed her.

  Chapter Ten

  At Nannie’s nursing home, Kal marched down the cream corridor, her footsteps hard and staccato on the tiles. When she reached Nannie's room, she slammed the door with such force a picture swung on its hook and a glass rattled on the bedside cabinet. How simple it would be to feel delighted her mother had found love, except all Scott stirred in Kal was a deep unease. Why did her mother have covert photographs of him? How could Scott be telling the truth? What was she missing?

  Worse, she’d failed to pinpoint the feature that snagged her attention. Damn. Every drop of information was vital. Topping that, somebody tailed her all the way from the City. Kal turned, taking in Nannie's unkempt look. Her grandmother's hair was uncombed even though it was early afternoon and she still wore night clothes. Kal crossed the room, righting the picture on the way. She put her hands gently around Nannie’s face. Her grandmother kept her eyes closed, muttering under her breath, repeating nonsense phrases. It was a bad day for Nannie.

  “Oh no, Nannie. Mum’s fallen in love and I’m being stalked and I can’t talk to you about any of it.”

  Kal gave her grandmother a kiss. She’d not gain any information about the letters today. Nannie had consoled her many times in the past and now that was all over. Time for other people to care for Nannie.

  The window gave a clear view down the front lawn all the way to the parking area. Kal scrutinised the hedgerows on either side of the main gate, then scanned the parking lot and the front approach. Nothing stirred. Not even a solitary bird flew startled from a branch. Well, if the stalker wanted to play games, they’d picked the right person on the right day. To hell with waiting, she wanted answers.

  Kal found Nannie’s hairbrush in a bedside drawer. As she rammed the drawer shut, the glass rattled again on the cabinet. You’d better rein back that anger, she told herself, and focus on your next move.

  Positioning herself in full view in front of the window, Kal brushed Nannie’s hair. All the while, with a steely precision, she planned the journey she'd take home, noting each landmark, each turn. She’d grown up in the neighbourhood and knew every dark corner and hidden alley. By the time Nannie's hair was twisted up into a neat chignon, Kal felt clear on her strategy, and after smoothing down Nannie's night clothes and planting a goodbye kiss, she moved away from the window.

  It took Kal twenty minutes to go through a full sequence of stretches for the muscles in her back and legs, followed by her arms and shoulders. When she left the nursing home her body felt light and reactive, ready for action. Okay sucker, let’s see what you’re made of, she said.

  ***

  Taking a bus, Kal found it quarter full. It trundled along the inside lane, the hiss of the hydraulic doors indicating the flow of passengers getting on and off. She flexed her fingers and waited, breathing coolly, maintaining a clear mind, just like waiting on the bench for her turn in a tournament. The sky was overcast - a typical early spring day in the capital. In a couple of hours, this bus would be full of children in their school uniforms, their bags and chatter would fill the seats and overflow into the aisle. This had been her own route home from school all those years ago.

  About fifteen minutes into the ride, Kal rang the buzzer and, alighting alone, she walked for a few minutes before turning down a side street. On both sides of this stretch, high-rise, social housing reached skywards, the buildings silent and grey. As she walked, Kal kept her eyes forward and at the same time gave all her attention to the zone behind her. Had her pursuer picked up the trail again? Yes, she was sure of it. She could sense it with that sixth sense you can enhance when you’re alert and focused. Her field of awareness shrank to include the stalker, the grey of the buildings, the sound of her own footsteps. Her body tingled. She became aware of clothing touching her arms and the brush of material against her legs. Her own breathing came smoothly, her heart beat steady. She still wore the velvet dress and heels but that wouldn't be a problem, on the contrary, it would give her pursuer a false sense of security.

  At this time of day, the path stretched empty ahead, exactly as she'd anticipated and Kal kept going until she spotted the sign for a small, twenty-four-hour shop.

  The bell over the door chimed. The counter was as packed with confectionery as it had been in her day and the air smelled of warm chocolate. Kal took her time selecting a bag of crisps and then stuffed the packet and her change back in her jacket pocket.

  Exiting the shop, she continued along the street before turning down a narrow alley. The alley ran around the back o
f one of the housing blocks and served as a gloomy short cut. Her pursuer followed as if she led them on a string. The tack of Kal’s shoes sounded out a steady rhythm as she passed a line of bins. The stink of refuse filled the air and she strained for the slightest sound behind her, flexing her knees slightly, balancing her arms lightly away for her sides. This would be the part where her tracker might make his move.

  She felt them padding, wolf-like, closer and closer and she resisted the urge to turn around. The velvet dress felt soft against her calves. Her heart pounded, the beat deepening as she controlled her pace.

  A small click sounded some distance behind. Perhaps a shoe catching a stone. Or the flick of a knife.

  Ahead, the alley went past a second bank of bins. The concrete walls were a deep grey and she stopped in the darkest patch, pretending to fumble in her pocket. By turning slightly to one side, out of the corner of her eye, she could see a solitary figure approaching. A man. Kal flexed her toes, ready to kick off her shoes.

  Slowing her breath, she felt the cool air flowing over her lip. She could sense her pursuer’s concentration. He walked lightly, well-balanced. Likely he wasn’t an amateur because his footfalls were too practised, too sure. The man approached until he was thirty metres away, then twenty-five.

  A sweat broke out on her palms as she anticipated over-powering her pursuer, pinning him to the ground and grinding information out of him. Twenty metres, fifteen. Come on now, come closer. Kal purposely dropped the crisps and the bag fell with a light rustle onto the tarmac. All the while keeping her pursuer in sight, she bent to pick it up. When she stooped, she saw her prone position give him impetus and he picked up his pace, recognising his chance.

  Kal began straightening her knees, slowly at first so as not to put him off, readying herself for a full burst of power.

 

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