"Gina."
"Well, Gina. What do you want to hear?"
"Something fast and loud. Maybe that Knock on Wood song."
"You got it." He slid the window shut. He turned and lined up the next six songs on various turntables and walked out of the booth. Time to check out the house.
Chapter Three
"A dead body has its coffin, and a live man his hut."
Russian Proverb
Olga watched the man in dark sunglasses walk toward where she sat waiting for a good time to cut out of the club. Every time she slid half a butt cheek off the bar stool to make her escape, Gina darted a glance her way. How the hell Gina could tell Olga was moving from the dance floor where she was shaking her own ass so fast it looked in danger of causing someone severe bodily harm, Olga didn't know. Did she plant a GPS in my cheek in the lab when I wasn't paying attention?
The man moved past Olga's perch at a fast clip but, before he went too far, someone yelled, "Gabe," and grabbed the man's arm. Only then did the man called Gabe stumble.
"Shit man, I'm blind, not deaf. You don't have to yell." Gabe said to the person who held his arm.
Fascinated, Olga couldn't help but listen in. The man was blind? He'd made his way across a crowded bar and nightclub and she hadn't even realized he was impaired. How the hell did he do it?
She heard the first man say, "Why'd you leave the booth? Looking for trouble?"
"It seems trouble found me all on its own. Leave me be, Martin. I have to take care of something before the CDs run out."
"You don't have to get so mad. I only wanted to talk."
"The time for talking ended a long time ago. Now, I suggest you get out of my way." Gabe tried to move past Martin but, before he could, the other man placed his hands on Gabe's chest and shoved him backward.
Gabe stumbled into Olga's table, her drink wobbling and clattering to the floor with a crash. Liquid sprayed up on her feet and legs. The table tilted precariously as Gabe tried to maintain his balance.
Olga held on to the edge of the table to stabilize it. To Gabe, she said, "Do you need some help?"
He turned toward her. "I'm fine. I'm used to wankers like that trying to give me a hard time. Makes them feel powerful over a feeble blind man."
Olga looked Gabe up and down and took in his fine physique. He clearly worked out. He filled out his jeans very nicely. The way the worn blue Eric Clapton tee shirt molded to his chest tempted her to run her hands up his pecs. Yes, this man was not feeble at all.
By the time Olga could tear her eyes away from Gabe's body, the man named Martin had vanished into the crowd. She sighed. "He's gone. I guess you can go on and take care of what you needed to do before he stopped you."
"I can tell he's gone. I don't need you to point that out." Gabe took a step away from the table.
"Wow." Olga bent down to pick up the broken glass from the floor. "Unbelievable."
She was surprised to hear, very close to her face, "What's unbelievable?"
"You." It was a bit disconcerting to look up from the floor and see the man with the sunglasses appearing to look her in the eyes as he knelt beside her.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You come past my table, get into words with some guy who pushes you, you spill my drink all over me and when I try to be nice to you, you talk to me like I'm lower than the tiles on the floor in here. It's typical."
"Typical of what?"
"Men like you." She stood and set the pieces of glass on the table top.
He rose from his crouching position as well. "I don't like the sound of that."
"Too bad." Olga pivoted on her heel. Before she could take a step, he took hold of her upper arm. She looked down at his fingers curled around her bicep. "Let. Me. Go."
Gabe released her. "At least tell me what you meant by 'men like me'."
"Nothing. I meant nothing by the comment."
The music stopped. All the dancers on the floor stopped moving. Many glanced around in obvious confusion.
Gabe smiled a tight little smile. "We'll have to finish this conversation later. It seems that I've fallen down on the job.
Olga watched him walk away. Impressed again with the way he maneuvered his way through the now staring crowd, she sat back down on the bar stool and stared as he easily made his way to the deejay booth.
The music started again. In a few moments, Gina stepped off the dance floor and over to the table. She bounced around as she addressed Olga. "Hey, I saw Gabe over here talking to you. How lucky can you get? Isn't he cute? And what the heck did you two talk about that the drinks went flying?"
"Nothing. He's cute all right, but he's a little bit brusque, isn't he?"
"I can't say I've ever noticed. I've heard he's really nice. Of course, I don't know him at all. Only here at the club and by reputation. He was sweet when I made a request for Marisol a little while ago."
"Look, I've got to go home. We do have to work tomorrow, you know." Olga stood.
"You're a party pooper."
"Nope. I'm merely a realist."
"See you tomorrow then." Gina pouted as Olga moved away.
Olga walked past the deejay booth on her way out of the club and couldn't resist a look in the window at the handsome Gabriel. She knew she'd be back if only to look at the handsome guy. No way would she ever get in another conversation with him though. He was too rude for words. The opposite of the usual British men she met.
*****
Gabriel could see enough to tell shapes and sizes. He could discern a bit of most everything around him but not enough to move into the streets without some kind of guidance. He hated the white cane with the red tip, but knew he'd never make the trip back to his flat without it. Luckily, he'd had the place near the Waterloo station within a few blocks of the club and his day job at the radio station before he lost his sight.
When closing time finally came, he grabbed the cane and opened the door to the booth. Jacob stood right outside leaning on the wall. "Hey, Gabe. Want to have a cider before we go?"
"Nope. I'm knackered and ready to call this day over."
"No can do, my man. It's only three a.m. The day is young."
"Very funny." Gabe shoved Jacob a bit as he passed him. "See you at the regular time tomorrow. I'm out."
Gabe kept the cane folded until he arrived at the street. It was a good thing he could see enough to not run into anything large in front of him.
At the corner of Bayliss Road and Webber Street, he slid his hand along the pole and pushed the silver button to activate the cross signal. He waited until he heard the traffic stop, although it sounded like only one or two cars were out and about in the night.
When Gabe arrived at the other side of the road, he turned into the small side street that ran behind the stores and restaurants on the main thoroughfare. He used his cane to feel for small items that might trip him.
He stopped in shock when the tip of the cane made contact with something soft and thick. He leaned down and felt along the ground. Now that he was on the same level as the obstacle, his hand came in contact with what could only be a woman's body. The strong metallic scent of blood hit his nostrils. He reached up to her carotid artery and felt for a pulse. Nothing.
He whipped out his cell phone and called 999. When the operator answered, he said. "There's a woman here who's injured and not breathing. She seems to have some kind of wound that's bleeding. Can you send an ambulance to the alley behind 103 The Cut? You know, behind the Old Vic? The theatre?"
"I have emergency and police on the way, sir. What happened?"
"I don't know. I found her on the street. She's lying here, bleeding from somewhere. I'm going to try to do CPR on her." Gabe laid the phone down.
He could hear the operator continuing to speak but he knew he needed to act fast if he was going to do anything at all for her. He flipped her over, cleared her airway and put his hand behind her head to tilt it back. He quickly pulled his hand back. Well, there
was the blood. Uh-oh. Now he was messing with a crime scene. There was too much blood for it to be from a mere fall. The stench of it wafted over him.
Torn about what to do, he picked the phone back up from the sidewalk. "Ma'am?"
"Yes, I'm still here. Were you able to revive the woman?"
Gabe heard the sirens blaring in the distance. "They need to hurry. I found blood on the back of her head and I don't know if she was attacked or it was from a fall to the sidewalk. There's too much blood for it to be from a trip and fall from what I can tell. I'm afraid to touch anything else if this is a crime."
"Sir, does she look like she was attacked? Can't you tell?"
"No, ma'am. I'm legally blind and I can't see well enough to ascertain exactly why she's on the ground. I only found her because my cane touched her on the side."
"Sir, you could be in danger. You should step away until the medical personnel can get there."
"I'm fine. They're here now." Gabe hung up the phone and turned toward the arriving emergency crew. "I found her. I think she's dead."
The first man on the scene said, "Yep. I think you're right there, mate. She's pretty cut up."
Cursing his blindness for perhaps the millionth time, Gabe stood up. "I wish I could've helped her."
"I'm sure the detective inspector will have some questions for you. Now, if you'll step aside so I can get to her, I'd be much obliged."
Gabe moved out of the way and stood aside while the local constables called to the scene supervised the medical techs. He heard one of them call for a detective inspector to come out. So much for going home to relax. Should've stayed for that drink with Jacob. As soon as he had the thought, he berated himself. This woman was all alone out here dying while he was playing music for some silly club. So much for his career as a fireman which he had hated from the beginning but at least he'd been useful back then.
One of the officers addressed Gabriel. "What's your name, mate?"
"Gabriel Swicord."
"You live around here?"
"Down that way a few steps and then up to the second floor of that set of flats there." Gabe pointed in the direction of his building.
"Are you out this late every night?"
"Most of the time. I work over at the Retro Club. I'm the deejay."
"Ahh," the officer nodded. "I thought your name sounded familiar. You're that celebrity guy who became a record jockey when you lost your vision in that fire." He spat on the ground. "Hell of a thing to find on the way home, yeah?"
"Yes, it is. I sure would like to go on home and crash, but I bet that's not a possibility, is it?"
"Afraid not, pal. Detective Inspector Carlyle will be here soon and I'm sure he'll have a lot of questions for you."
"I thought so. Darn."
"It's a shame about the girl. She looks like she was right pretty. Must've been one of them brides out for her hen party."
"Wait, what?"
"Yeah, she looks like a bride. She has on a tiara and a sash. Really short skirt. You now how some of them dress for these parties. They look awfully slutty. She's pretty but she's all tarted up."
"I should tell you that there was a hen party at Club Retro tonight. The women had on Alice in Wonderland costumes, I heard. What does this one have on?"
"A blue dress and a headband. Socks over her knees. White ones."
"Better tell your detective inspector to look in on Jacob Rhys, the owner of the club. He may know who she is if there's no identification on her. If it's the bride, she may be the daughter of a baronet."
"Oh, my God." The officer let out a low whistle. "The daughter of a peer? I think I better call in the big guns on this one." The officer lightly touched Gabe on the shoulder. "I'm going to walk over to the body now. Stay right here."
Gabe leaned on the side of the building. It was going to be a long night. Or morning.
Chapter Four
"Death will come uninvited."
Lithuanian Proverb
When Olga arrived the next morning at work, she wasn't surprised to find that Gina wasn't in yet. She figured the girl probably got home right in time to shower and dress for the day and was running late.
When Gina didn't show up after another hour, worried, Olga dialed Gina's mobile number. It went to voice mail. "Hey, girl. I hope you're not still sleeping, or worse, still drunk. It's past time to get to work. We need to finish the prototype for the presentation on Monday. Come in soon. I need you."
She worked a while on the project and finally had to go to find another engineer to assist her. By then, it was lunchtime and Olga was almost in a panic. True, Gina was a party girl but in the few weeks she'd known her, Gina always came to work and did her job.
Finally, about one-thirty, Mr. Gibbons came in. "Olga, how's it going on the presentation for Monday?"
"I'm almost ready but I had to borrow some help since Gina never showed up today."
"She called in. She's been at the police station. It seems one of her friends was killed last night."
"What?" Olga's knees buckled. She grabbed the countertop and held on to keep herself upright.
"Apparently, she and some of her friends went to a hen party and the bride was murdered on her way to Waterloo station to get the last train to Chelsea. She was found by the Old Vic theatre."
"Is Gina all right?"
"She's pretty upset. I told her to take the rest of the day off when she got done with the police. It's a tragedy. So sad for the girl and her family. "
"I need to sit down." Olga moved over to one of the metal lab stools and sat. Her hands shook and, even though she'd never been a smoker, she had the urge to have a cigarette. She almost laughed at that but choked on the thought instead. She put her fist to her mouth the hold back the sobs that threatened to come.
Her boss came to stand beside her. He placed his hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"I was there at the hen party."
"You were?"
"Gina talked me into going even though I didn't know anyone. It wasn't very much fun and I feel really bad now because I wasn't gracious at all. All I wanted to do was leave, and now that poor girl who had so much to look forward to is dead." Olga shuddered.
He pulled up a stool himself and leaned back on it. "Do you need to take some time off, too?"
"No." Olga stood. "Work is how I deal with grief, so I'll probably work late instead of leave early."
"You can let me know if you want to knock off early. You know they still have to paint some more this weekend, so the sooner we're out of the building the better." He walked toward the door.
"You're way more lenient of a boss than the folks at NASA, you know. They're all about working overtime and getting things done. You guys over here are much more laid back."
"Well, we didn't take part in that whole race to the moon, either."
"You're right." She giggled. "But you'll be the first country to have passengers to space if things keep going as they are."
"We will. I guarantee it." He smiled back at her. "Don't work too late. Have a good weekend."
When he was gone, Olga buckled down and got to work harder. Determined to prove herself on Monday morning at her first full presentation since she changed sides of the Atlantic, she stayed in the lab until way past time for everyone to leave. Several people dropped by and invited her out for Friday night, but she stayed on.
Once she was satisfied with her work, she leaned back and stretched her muscles. She glanced down at her watch. Stunned to see that it was after ten p.m., she tugged off her lab coat and straightened her work area. Time to go home. Way past time.
Olga moved down the hallway to the locker room. Alone in the building except for the security guard she presumed was somewhere on the premises, her footsteps echoed in the space. She found herself walking faster as she passed several of the open doors to other darkened offices and labs. They seemed to be sinister at night with none of the buzz of activity that usually surrounded them during the day.
She ignored the inner voice telling her to calm down and kicked off her navy blue pumps. She snatched them off the floor and sprinted the rest of the way to the locker room. Once there, she clicked on the light and dashed inside long enough to grab her purse to get the keys to her flat. She turned toward the door to head back out to the elevator and stopped. She stood still as the statue of David in the Borghese Gallery in Rome. She hadn't realized how spooked she was by the murder of the woman she'd met the night before and, now that she had her purse, she didn't know what to do. How was she going to get home? Could she walk out of the building and down the street all alone? It was late and she was frozen in terror.
Torn over staying or going, she couldn't move. Which option was safer? Spend the night in the lab and be terrified here or go out on the streets of London where a murderer was on the loose?
Finally, she shook her head. Chances of the person who killed the bride being on the same street she was on tonight were pretty slim. There are a lot of roads and avenues in the city and catching a cab outside the door would be pretty easy. She bent down and put her shoes back on, straightened her spine and walked out of the locker room. She put on her brave face and, still in her lab coat, walked toward the elevator. She poked the button to call for the car.
She screamed when a hand landed on her shoulder. Her knees gave way.
The security guard grabbed her around the waist before she collapsed. "Miss Quinn, are you all right?"
"God, Michael, you scared me to death." Her heart raced. She resisted the urge to clutch her chest. Barely.
"Sorry. I was doing my rounds and saw the light was off in your workspace. I wanted to be sure to catch you so I could lock up when you left. I didn't mean to startle you."
Moon Dance Page 2