The Devil and the Red Ribbon

by Theo Rion

  John looked at him.

  “You’ll see.” He smiled and went into the house.

  Kurt looked around, as if he wanted to understand something. Kurt followed John into the house. There was no one in the hall on the second floor, from where the garden and courtyard were entirely visible. John sat on the couch and pulled out a cigar from a wooden box on the table. Kurt, not waiting for an invitation, sat opposite in the chair by the window and looked at the garden. From here he couldn’t see the arbor, but Kurt’s thoughts were wandering in darkness, filled with the scent of blooming roses.

  John lit the cigar. They were silent again. Kurt suddenly found his soul was filled with surprising calm and serenity. Thoughts, slow and easy, quietly followed one after another without creating a fuss. Intimacy with John at this time didn’t scare him, didn’t worry him. Kurt furtively glanced at the other man’s face. John seemed lost in his own thoughts too; he didn’t look at Kurt, and from aside, it could seem that he had forgotten about Kurt altogether.

  Suddenly Kurt felt uneasy again. In his head the thought appeared and destroyed his charming serenity. It seemed that John had skillfully manipulated my feelings.

  Kurt looked back at John, who continued calmly smoking the cigar, leaning back on the couch in a relaxed manner. Kurt felt doubt.

  It is impossible. He can’t manipulate my feelings, he doesn’t know about…or he knows…. or…

  Anxiety gripped his soul again. Kurt winced and looked away. He was sorry the precious moment of peace hadn’t lasted. Kurt didn’t dare break the silence; for some reason, John grinned, as if reading his thoughts. He put the cigar aside.

  “Want to play poker?”

  Kurt stood up and sat down at the table. John’s hazel eyes gleamed in the light of a dim lamp. In the moments when Kurt’s mind managed to prevail over his senses, he saw clearly John was barely holding back some childish delight. Like a mischievous child who, in his opinion, invented a brilliant stratagem and couldn’t bear to wait for when the victim would fall into it. Kurt was bothered by only one question—who would it be? What was weird, it didn’t scare Kurt if John chose him as his victim. It was even predictable. So, Kurt was afraid it wasn’t him who needed to be aware.

  They didn’t have time to finish the game, as the butler came into the room.

  “Miss Conte,” he reported in a restrained manner. John let him go with a nonchalant nod.

  John no longer held back; he smiled openly and almost rubbed his hands in anticipation. Startled, Kurt looked at him and moved away from the table.

  “Kurt!” John called him. His joy was instantly replaced with a wolfish grin. “Finish first.”

  Kurt didn’t like John’s tone. It was an interesting feeling, as if something rebellious had awakened inside of Kurt. The fact that John ordered him stirred Kurt. His heart fearfully hid.

  In Kurt’s salon, all was also quiet. Suddenly out of the dark corner a shade arose. It was a lady in a black dress. She walked around the room quickly, but dignity was in each of her steps. Not looking at anyone, she sat next to the lady in red.

  Kurt looked at John without fear or embarrassment. Neither his voice nor his face now seemed beautiful to Kurt; his wolf’s eyes didn’t scare and didn’t besot. Pride spoke in Kurt clearly.

  Not looking away, Kurt quietly put his cards on the table and stood up. He wanted to go home; he didn’t want to see John ever again and feel what he had felt before. Pride fettered his heart with cold so quickly that it froze in amazement. In Kurt’s head, John’s voice echoed again and again.

  Kurt pursued his lips. He looked again at John, trying to unravel his thoughts. But John was absolutely impervious; he looked at Kurt with interest, but his eyes glittered dangerously. Obviously, John wasn’t used to disobedience.

  To Kurt’s surprise, this outbreak of courage faded, leaving him in silence and perplexity. John stared at Kurt, and although Kurt wasn’t going to sit at the table, he retreated.

  “I assume that victory is yours, Mr. Fenririr,” Kurt said calmly. But John didn’t accept that answer. On the contrary, now his gaze became fierce. It seemed to Kurt that John would pounce on him. He just realized he had showed an inexcusable condescension. Well, he wasn’t good in cajolery, and no matter how Kurt felt about John, he couldn’t cringe as easily as John’s retinue. John pursed his lips and looked at Kurt with indifference.

  Will he let it go? Kurt suddenly thought, but John had already turned away and thrown his cards on the table, leaving the money untouched.

  “You almost managed to spoil my mood,” he said dully, inhaling the cigar that had been smoldering in an ashtray on the table, and turned back to Kurt. His face was the same, however, Kurt felt something ominous in the air.

  If he doesn’t avenge me, he will recoup from someone else. However, nobody can stop him from doing both.

  John went to the door, and Kurt followed. They came down in the yard, and John came to a girl. Kurt assumed it was Miss Conte. Dressed in a purple dress with lace, Miss Conte looked at the numerous guests. She was a little confused. A lady like her hardly could imagine such an event, when the host, who had invited her, didn’t deign to go out and meet her. Noticing John, she flushed and frowned.

  “Good evening, Michelle,” John said and surprisingly gallantly bowed and lightly kissed her outstretched hand. Kurt limited his gesture to a polite bow. Michelle looked back at John.

  Ah, what a hypocrite. John very skillfully controlled his face; he smiled so charmingly that Michelle’s confusion was completely understandable.

  “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. Please,” he said, escorting her through his crowd of guests toward a table in the arbor. Everyone moved aside and watched with interest. Obviously, John’s behavior was unusual.

  Kurt followed John, hearing the whispers from all sides as John seated Michelle at the table in the arbor and started a conversation with her. At first Kurt was surprised how easily John accepted the role of suave gentleman, but then he understood. This was only the beginning and only for the sake of what was coming next, that John was ready to play this role. And it scared Kurt. Without feeling any sympathy for Michele Conte, he, nevertheless, didn’t wish any harm to her.

  Hasn’t she heard anything about John Fenririr? Kurt wondered. Or she hopes he won’t dare play a cruel joke on her in front of so many people. Perhaps she hopes she will be the one he finally falls for.

  Meanwhile, John lowered the tone of his voice, making their conversation more intimate. Kurt sat at a table next to the arbor. He tried not to stare at John and Michelle, but didn’t lose sight of them. John seemed to be attempting to persuade Michelle to do something, but what? It was a mystery for Kurt. Michelle blushed and tried to object.

  Kurt again could only wonder how in ten minutes John had turned Michelle from a prim, haughty lady with a contemptuous cold glance into a blushing young lady who admired John’s face out of the corner of her eye.

  Kurt suddenly noticed how John leaned over to Michelle’s ear and whispered something, and Michelle’s cheeks flushed. She jerked away, but then sat up straight and shyly looked down at the floor. It seemed John instantly lost interest in her. He grunted with disappointment and started looking around. Faced with Kurt, he winked at him, letting him know everything was going as he wanted, and it disappointed him.

  Kurt didn’t show any reaction to that and looked away. John came to him a few minutes later and sat down.

  “I hope you’re having a good time,” Kurt suddenly said. His voice was aloof, but he was angry. And Kurt could not understand why.

  “As you see,” John said as he looked at Kurt with satisfaction.

  Hardly hiding his irritation, Kurt asked, “You decided to befuddle another girl. How is that interesting?”

  John squinted slyly and looked at Kurt.

  “Why did you decide she’s my aim?” Yellow eyes glistened with passion. Kurt thought he heard the trap snapping closed. “I’m really a bit disappointed. She turned out to
be such a simpleton. And what posturing!” John mockingly shook his head and looked in the direction where Michelle sat still, obscenely blushing. “I wanted to kill two birds with one stone,” John continued. “But one bird walked in the cage willingly. Still, it was worth it,” John said, then stared at Kurt and said nothing. And Kurt finally understood, and that John it.

  Awareness was scalding cold.

  So, you did this in order to look at my feelings? Kurt wanted to ask, but he could not. Not only his tongue was numb, his whole body was numb. John knew everything from the beginning; he had seen all my feelings, all of them! And I thought I had been so clever to hide them, thought Kurt.

  He stood silently.

  “You need to play to the end,” John said and grinned. But Kurt didn’t answer him and walked away. It seemed to him that he could hear John’s laughter behind him, and so he walked faster and faster, until he was at the gate of the garden. Everything seemed black and white. Here he paused for a moment and took a deep breath. Thoughts flew one after another.

  Not here. Not now.

  Kurt wanted to go home. He was about to leave the gate, when he heard a loud crack and a muffled groan in the bushes. Kurt turned and peered into the darkness. Suddenly, out of the bushes, a young man got out on the walkway. He shook off his suit and checked something in his pocket. He wanted to move on, but noticed Kurt.

  The moon shone in cloudless night sky, and Kurt recognized him. It was Archie Tains.

  “Good evening, Mr. Tains,” Kurt threw out.

  “Hello, Mr. Rhein.” Archie’s voice sounded uncertainly. “Are you leaving already?”

  “Yes, I have to go. And you…”

  Kurt paused.

  Archie said, “I lost something in the garden.”

  That’s a lie, Kurt immediately realized, but didn’t say it out loud.

  “Well, I must go,” said Archie and turned to leave.

  “Wait,” Kurt stopped him, obeying some vague sense. “I haven’t seen you for a while. How are you doing?”

  “I’m…I’m fine, Mr. Rhein. I’m much better.” Archie pursed his lips and nodded.

  A lie again, thought Kurt and noticed that Archie put his hand in his pocket, as if he checked something.

  “Good night, Mr. Rhein,” Archie said, turned around and went into John’s house.

  Kurt paused. A vague feeling finally took a shape. It was anxiety, and it grew stronger with each passing second. Kurt had never really believed in intuition. He believed that human behavior could be predicted based on observation. And if this ability was perfected, it began to seem that the understanding of what happens worked by itself. But it wasn’t. It was just an amazing speed of analysis.

  Now Kurt had no time to ponder how he had this feeling, because he had no idea what was on Archie’s mind, but clearly, something was wrong. They had met several times, and it was enough for Kurt to realize that Archie wasn’t behaving as usual. And besides, he was lying. Archie was already far away, but Kurt hurried back.

  He began to look for Archie among the guests, but he had cleverly lost himself in the crowd. Kurt walked to the arbor, where John had cooed with Michelle, but no one was there. At first Kurt felt relieved, but anxiety didn’t leave him.

  He saw John walk out of the garden, and rushed to him. But then he noticed Michelle following him.

  They came out of the walkway that led to the arbor in the depth of the garden. Kurt was filled with pain and jealousy. He wanted to go away, to be as far as possible from here.

  John walked to the stairs of the mansion among the guests, and it seemed he had forgotten about Michelle. Then Kurt saw Archie at the side entrance; he was looking edgily at John. Archie put his hand in his pocket.

  Not paying attention to his feelings, Kurt hurried after John. He wanted to outrun John, but on the stairs, they almost stumbled into each other.

  John looked at Kurt with a sneer, but obviously, he saw something in Kurt’s face that alerted him.

  Kurt just wanted to say something, when he saw that Archie had gone down the side stairs to the guests. Kurt sighed with relief.

  “Hey, Kurt…”

  He didn’t hear the rest. It seemed to him the second lasted an eternity. All sounds around him stopped. Not understanding how, Kurt suddenly saw Archie in the crowd. He slid to the other side, to the massive railing of the stairs leading to the mansion, where John was standing.

  Archie put his hand in his pocket. And somehow Kurt already knew that in the next moment a small black revolver would appear in Archie’s hand. And it would shoot. And it would be the only sound Kurt would hear before he—not knowing why—would take a step forward and shield John.

  Someone would not hear the shot because of the music; someone would not understand that it was the sound of a gunshot. But John would realize it immediately.

  It became difficult to breathe and Kurt felt dizzy. He sat down on the steps and absentmindedly put his hand to his left breast. A red mark appeared on his palm. Kurt looked at it, puzzled, and had time to look at John. In John’s eyes was reflected what he had never seen before. The next moment, Kurt fell unconscious.

  Chapter 10

  Kurt woke up in the hospital ward. He didn’t immediately remember what had happened to him, and when he did, he hastily pulled back the blanket and looked at his bandaged chest. Kurt looked around the room. It was a common room with a big window and hospital bed.

  It was morning. Kurt clumsily rubbed his eyes. Waking up little by little, he began to ask himself questions that he couldn’t answer.

  “Nurse!” called Kurt. A moment later a woman in a white robe and cap entered the room.

  “Good morning, Mr. Rhein!” she said kindly. “You finally awakened. How do you feel?”

  “I’m fine, I guess,” Kurt replied.

  “The doctor will come soon and answer all your questions. Please lie down quietly.” She went to Kurt and lightly fluffed his pillow, and Kurt lay back again. “You’re very lucky, Mr. Rhein,” she smiled and left.

  Kurt even chuckled.

  Yeah, lucky! I got shot…because of John. I shielded him. I could’ve pushed him away or screamed, but for some reason…

  The entry of the doctor interrupted his thoughts.

  “Good morning, Mr. Rhein. My name is Dr. Stephen Mulligan. How are you?” He looked at Kurt through oval glasses. The doctor was old; his hands, which held the folder, were wrinkled. He furrowed his bushy grey eyebrows, studying Kurt’s case, and sometimes scratched his trimmed grey beard.

  “Good morning, doctor. I think I’m fine. Though you would have a better idea about that than I.”

  “You were delivered with a bullet wound. The bullet snagged your lung and stuck in your shoulder blade. We removed it and handed it over to the inspector.”

  “Inspector?” Kurt asked.

  “Of course. You don’t think someone can get away with attempted murder, do you?” the doctor said and looked emphatically at Kurt, who didn’t say anything.

  “The bullet could’ve struck your heart!” added the doctor.

  “And was there anyone else with a bullet wound?” Kurt asked cautiously. He feared that Archie could’ve finished his plan.

  “No,” Mr. Mulligan said and shook his head.

  “And was the one who attempted to murder…me…caught?”

  “The inspector will be here soon, and you can talk to him about it.” The doctor closed the folder and looked at Kurt. “You’ll have to stay at the hospital for at least a week,” he concluded.

  Kurt had nothing to say. He didn’t have time to think about anything thoroughly, so he just nodded absently.

  It should be noted that Kurt felt better, if not physically, but mentally. Oddly, he didn’t feel any excitement or mental confusion, though he probably should have. An attempted murder wasn’t an ordinary incident in his life.

  But this incident affected something else. The woman in red was sitting in the farthest and darkest corner of his salon, not behin
d the counter where the woman in black sat.

  John’s portrait still hung in the gallery, but somehow the colors had lost their brightness. Kurt was in a calm mood, and with idleness, analyzed everyone who caught his eye, and found in this a special treat.

  The conversation with the inspector didn’t bring anything new. Police didn’t catch a shooter, and they didn’t know who it was. And Kurt didn’t say that it was Archie. John hadn’t been hurt, Kurt was alive, and in the best case scenario, Archie would go to prison for this.

  Yes, Archie was guilty, absolutely. But…

  But Kurt understood him. Understood why he’d done it. Kurt himself was a prisoner of his feelings for John, and though he tried to keep them under control, applying all his knowledge and will, he couldn’t help himself. And what was to say about Archie? He had suffered much longer.

  Kurt remembered when he saw Archie at Solar, how exhausted he was. His love for John had burned him to the ground. He was unable to resist the pain. And no one could help him. And I didn’t help him, thought Kurt.

  The moon rose in the sky. Kurt got out of bed and went to the window.

  In his salon, he was still a janitor, but he stood quietly, leaning on a mop, looking at the floor. The lady in red was sitting in the darkness alone, without anyone paying attention to her.

  McGlow was wrong, he thought. The talent of the psychologist is to control his emotions, not plunge into them. I made a mistake and rushed into them. And now I feel like I’m coming back to myself.

  Suddenly there was a noise and the sound of people’s anxious voices in the hallway. Kurt peered out of the room. Two nurses carried a stretcher past his room, and a doctor and another nurse walked quickly ahead.

  A young man was on the stretcher. That was all Kurt could conclude, because the face of the young man had been turned into a bloody mess. Kurt turned away, and his chest went cold. He didn’t fall asleep until morning.

  * * * *

  “Mr. Rhein, it’s time to take your medication,” the nurse said, gently shaking him by the shoulder, Kurt immediately sat up in bed. “You shouldn’t sit up like that,” she said, clasping her hands. “Lie down, lie down,” she said, giving him some pills. Kurt hastily swallowed them, without even drinking any water.