Spirals

by Scott Bergin

  "You honestly think that I would have brought her here if we were having an affair?" Robert asked.

  "Maybe I just caught you before you had your goodbyes." Dana replied.

  "We haven't done anything." Gabrielle said.

  "Yeah, I heard that already." Dana replied. "Save your breath for the bedroom, harlot."

  "Oh, have some dignity." Gabrielle replied.

  "Look who's talking." Dana said. "You'll spread for anything that shows an interest."

  "Yeah." Gabrielle replied. "Don't insult him too much. You married him."

  "Ladies." Robert interrupted. "I think that is about enough."

  "Too bad you didn't think it was enough before you fucked her!" Dana yelled.

  "Too bad he didn't think you were enough, period." Gabrielle replied.

  "That's it." Robert demanded.

  "Oh." Dana said. "You mean, you're done fucking her?"

  "You don't even know her." Robert insisted.

  "Apparently not." Dana replied.

  "If you'd give her half a chance, you might like her." Robert said.

  "What, you expect me to have this cunt over for dinner or something?" Dana asked.

  After that remark, Robert found himself trying to hold back Gabrielle. She proved to be more of a challenge than Dana, but he still managed to keep them apart.

  "No, I don't expect to see you two get along." Robert admitted.

  "Good." Dana replied. "Because if I ever lay eyes on this floozy again, I'll kill her."

  "Good luck." Gabrielle replied. "He probably doesn't want you, because you fuck as bad as you fight."

  "Let me go!" Dana shouted, trying to get passed Robert to take another shot at her.

  "If he lets you go, I'll kick your drunk ass." Gabrielle said.

  "Let me at her!" Dana shouted, still trying to get by.

  "Give it up, bitch." Gabrielle replied. "You've got all the fighting power of a moist turd."

  "Gabrielle!" Robert shouted.

  "Oh." Dana replied. "It's still Gabrielle, not Gabby, or Gabs. How come we are all still so formal?"

  "He shouts much better things than that in bed." Gabrielle lied.

  "Gabrielle, I still have to go home with her." Robert insisted.

  "No." Dana replied. "You don't have to."

  "I am still going home with her." Robert corrected himself.

  "So." Gabrielle replied. "I feel very sorry for you."

  "Tell her we are not sleeping together." Robert demanded.

  "She won't believe me." Gabrielle said.

  "Tell her anyway." Robert insisted. "Or I'll tell Alex that I was sleeping with you. How well do you think he would take that?"

  "How many men are you banging, tramp?" Dana said, shocked by the possibility that Gabrielle might be involved with Alex as well.

  "I'm not sleeping with anyone." Gabrielle protested.

  "Robert, if you're going to sleep with someone, try to make sure it's not a complete slut." Dana said. "I would hate to have you bring home any diseases."

  "I'm not sleeping with anyone." Robert insisted.

  "Well, you two certainly have ironed out all the little kinks in your lies." Dana replied.

  "Believe whatever you want to." Robert said, giving up the fight. "Let's just leave."

  "No." Dana replied. "I'm not through with her yet, and I'm not leaving until I'm through."

  "Dana, let's go!" Robert demanded, motioning for her to turn away from Gabrielle.

  "Fuck you!" Dana screamed at the top of her lungs. The fact that she was only three inches from Robert's face caused her to slobber spit all over him. It also caused him to get violent.

  Robert took one step backward, then let his fist fly. He struck Dana square on the chin. Her body lifted off the ground, and she flew backward through the air. She knocked over Robert's luggage, and landed on the cart. Gabrielle's jaw went wide with disbelief. She never would have believed that Robert was the violent type, if she had not seen it for herself. Dana stumbled over the cart, and tried to stand up. Robert leaned over her. Gabrielle thought he was going to offer her a hand. She was startled to see Robert punch her in the cheek. Dana fell flat against the floor.

  "Enough!" Gabrielle hollered.

  "What, you're going to take her side?" Robert asked. "After what she called you."

  "She's drunk." Gabrielle replied. "You said so yourself."

  "That's right." Robert said. "And now I say that she has to be taught her lesson."

  "By beating her?" Gabrielle asked.

  "She has to be punished." Robert replied. "Just like any animal."

  "She's not an animal!" Gabrielle insisted. "She's your wife!"

  "So she is." Robert admitted. "So she is."

  "So, help her up." Gabrielle replied.

  "All right." Robert said. "I don't feel like arguing anymore."

  Robert helped Dana get to her feet. Once she was up, she fended off his attempts to help her any further. Dana put a hand to her swelling cheek. She also felt the blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

  "Bastard." She muttered, then turned and walked away.

  "Satisfied?" Robert asked.

  "No." Gabrielle admitted.

  "Then what would you have me do?" Robert asked.

  "Try treating her like a human being." Gabrielle replied.

  "I only treat her like she treats me." Robert insisted.

  "That's the problem." Gabrielle said. "You should always treat her better than she treats you."

  Robert gathered his luggage together, and placed it on the cart after standing it back up. Then he began pushing it toward Dana, who was slowly meandering down the long hallway, from which she had first appeared.

  Gabrielle headed off in the opposite direction. She was certain that she no longer had a job. Gabrielle was not looking forward to breaking that news to Alex, when he arrived in less than an hour.

  Chapter 44

  April 18

  9:15 a.m.

  Paris, France

  Alex stepped through the gate, and into the main terminal. Gabrielle had obviously gotten the message he left at World Portraits. She was standing only twenty feet down the hallway. Having not slept on the second flight made Alex feel very groggy, until he spotted Gabrielle. When he saw her standing in the hallway, it was as if he had just gotten a full night's rest. Alex felt like racing toward her, though all he did was walk. Without either one saying a word, they embraced for a full minute. When Alex released her, he noticed that she was wiping tears out of her eyes.

  "I thought you were dead." Gabrielle said, regaining her composure.

  "You can't get rid of me that easily." Alex assured her.

  "No." She said. "But Dana Barlow did."

  "What do you mean?" Alex asked.

  "We are out of a job." Gabrielle replied.

  "Your pictures were that bad?" He asked.

  "No." Gabrielle replied. "She never even saw them."

  "Then what makes you so sure we're unemployed?" Alex asked.

  "I got the hint when she started choking me." Gabrielle explained. "And I was sure of it when she was beating my head into the baggage claim, about an hour ago."

  "She was here?" Alex asked. "In France?"

  "Yup." She replied.

  "What did you do to push her off the deep end?" Alex asked.

  "She thinks I was sleeping with her husband." Gabrielle replied.

  "I didn't know that she had one." He replied.

  "I think that might be part of why we're fired." Gabrielle said.

  "What might be?" Alex asked.

  "I found out about her best kept secret." She replied.

  "Maybe she'll change her mind when she sees the pictures." Alex said.

  "I'm not about to go back there begging for a job." Gabrielle replied.

  "What then?" He asked.

  "Either we go begging somewhere else, or we just go independent." Gabrielle insisted.

  "Then, we cannot go to the police." Alex said. />
  "Why not?" Gabrielle asked. "We could make a name for ourselves."

  "We have to solve this whole thing first." Alex insisted. "We can't just give this story up to the authorities before it's finished."

  "If we crack this thing open, we can write our own ticket." Gabrielle replied.

  "Exactly." Alex said.

  "So where do we start?" Gabrielle asked.

  "I don't know yet." Alex admitted.

  "Well, how do you know that he is in France?" Gabrielle asked.

  "He's not." Alex replied.

  "I don't understand." She admitted.

  "He's from France." Alex said. "Or he travels here."

  "Okay. How do you know that?" Gabrielle asked.

  "When I searched his room, I found a franc." Alex explained.

  "That's it." Gabrielle replied.

  "No. That's not it." Alex insisted.

  "He might have just stopped in France on his way to Africa." Gabrielle said.

  "He might have." Alex replied. "But I don't think so."

  "Where's the rest of your proof?" She asked.

  "That's it for proof." Alex explained. "The rest is just a hunch."

  "Well, let's hear the hunch." She replied.

  "Back in Cameroon, he was trying just a little too hard to convince us that he was an American." Alex replied.

  "You mean all the Orlando clothing?" Gabrielle asked.

  "Exactly." Alex replied. "It looks to me like he lives in France, and was a tourist in Florida."

  "Okay. You've convinced me." She admitted, after recalling how obviously Thomas had acted.

  "Good." He replied. "Now where do we start looking?"

  "I've got plenty of choices for you." Gabrielle said, waving a bundle of travel brochures at him.

  "I don't think he'd be hiding in a vacation spot." Alex said.

  "You never know." Gabrielle said.

  "You just want a vacation." Alex replied.

  "Well, as long as we're here, we might as well make the best of it." She said.

  "Do I have to remind you that we are out of a job?" Alex asked.

  "No." Gabrielle replied, feeling the back of her head. "I think I still have the bruises to prove it."

  "Then I shouldn't have to explain how we can't afford anything too extravagant." Alex said.

  "Okay." Gabrielle said. "I'll let you pick the spot."

  She fanned out the twenty brochures. Because there were so many, the names of the locations were not visible. When Gabrielle saw that Alex was reluctant to pick the spot from a blind deck she gathered them back into a pile.

  "Okay." She said. "We'll do it another way."

  "All right." Alex replied. "Show me what you have."

  "We have Paris." Gabrielle said, holding up the first brochure.

  "That's a good place to start." Alex said. "Let's go."

  "Don't you even want to see the other ones?" She asked.

  "No need." Alex assured her. "We'll start in Paris. We're already here."

  "What about the French Riviera?" Gabrielle asked, holding up another brochure.

  "Oh, now that's nice." Alex said, snickering.

  "It doesn't say 'nice'." Gabrielle replied, turning the brochure around. "It says 'Nice'. You know, like the opposite of nephew."

  "Holy shit." Alex said softly.

  "What?" Gabrielle asked. "You just realized that you're illiterate."

  "No." Alex replied. "I think I know where Thomas lives."

  Alex thought back to seeing the piece of paper that he had found in Thomas' room. He had originally read it as '4 me Catherine nice'. Now he thought of it as '4 me Catherine, Nice'. It still didn't make perfect sense, but it was better than before.

  "Don't keep me in suspense." Gabrielle insisted. "Where is Thomas LaRue?"

  "That's it." Alex mumbled. "That's the answer."

  "What are you talking about?" She asked.

  "Remember when I said that I found some strange paper in Thomas' room?" Alex asked.

  "No." Gabrielle replied. "But if it makes you happy, I'll say yes."

  "Good." He said. "Because now I understand it."

  "What did it say?" She asked.

  "Originally, I thought it said '4 me Catherine nice'." Alex explained. "Now I know what it was really saying."

  "Do explain it, Mr. Holmes." She replied.

  "It's elementary Watson." Alex said, grinning. "You simply place Thomas' name where it belongs. What you end up with is '4 La Rue Catherine, Nice'. In English, he lives on Catherine street in Nice."

  "So you're saying that we will get to go to the French Riviera after all?" Gabrielle asked.

  "In a word, yes." Alex replied.

  "I'll go buy some plane tickets." Gabrielle said.

  "I don't think so." Alex replied.

  "You don't want to fly?" Gabrielle asked.

  "I think I'm through with planes for a little while." Alex said.

  "What then?" She asked.

  "We'll rent a car." He replied.

  "Okay, we'll drive." She said. "It'll take a bit longer, but okay."

  "We've got all the time in the world." Alex assured her.

  "How do you know that?" She asked.

  "The last time I saw Thomas, he was heading south across Africa." Alex explained. "Since he is afraid of flying, it will take him a hell of a long time to get back here."

  "Don't worry." Gabrielle said. "I have no problem with driving."

  "Good." Alex said. "Do you have a problem with riding?"

  "What do you mean?" She asked.

  "I saw the way you drove in Cameroon." He said. "If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to drive."

  "Okay, granny." Gabrielle said, smiling. "You want to crawl there? We'll crawl."

  "We've got all the time in the world." Alex reminded her.

  "That doesn't mean that we have to use it all getting there." She replied.

  "Tell you what." Alex said, looking at the brochure. "We'll take turns driving. It looks like it's going to take a while, no matter who is driving."

  Gabrielle gave Alex his passport. She offered to show him where the baggage claim was, but he informed her that he had no luggage. Alex and Gabrielle walked through the endless hallways of de Gaulle. They eventually came to a car rental facility.

  Fourteen hours, and no sleep later, their black Mercedes pulled up in front of a small hotel in Nice. Alex was relieved to find a hotel that had a vacancy, and was willing to check them in at eleven at night. Unfortunately, the hotel had only one room available, and that room had only one bed. Neither of them was willing to travel another block for a hotel with two beds. Alex was more than a little relieved to save money with the single bed. Within minutes of their arrival at the room, they were fast asleep on the bed. As they drifted off to sleep, both regretted the decision not to fly. The drive had been far more exhausting than they had anticipated.

  Chapter 45

  April 19

  4:45 a.m.

  The Atlantic Ocean

  Thomas awoke several minutes before his shift was supposed to begin. The sounds of the Monkees grew too loud for him to continue sleeping any longer. He quickly got out of bed, and raced up the steps to the deck. When he opened the door to exit the cabin, he was blasted by the radio at full volume. Thomas ran out the open door and onto the ship's deck. The first thing he noticed was that Hector had tied the wheel off with his shoe laces, without removing them from his shoes. Thomas looked around for the imbecile. Hector was not sleeping. He was dancing on the ship's tiny bow. Thomas quietly made his way to the back of the boat. He carefully untied the anchor line from the ship. Then Thomas continued walking toward the back of the ship, with the loose end in one hand. When Thomas reached the back of the boat, he opened a large built in cooler. Inside was the ship's harpoon gun. Thomas took out the gun, and quietly set it on the deck. Then he removed two of the harpoons that had been resting beside the gun in the cooler. To the first harpoon, he attached the rope from the anchor. Then he pl
aced the harpoon on the deck. Picking up the gun, Thomas loaded the harpoon without a line on it. Thomas stood up, took aim, and fired the gun. He missed his target, but in doing so, he learned that the gun pulled to the left while firing. Hector still danced like an idiot on the front of the boat, having not noticed the first harpoon. Thomas loaded the second harpoon into the gun. He walked up to the blaring radio. His first shot had been intended to take out the radio. Instead, it went sailing off the side of the ship. Thomas reached the radio, which was just outside the cabin door. He could have turned it off as he left the cabin, but that would not have made loading the harpoon gun so easy. After checking to make sure that he was not tangled in the harpoon's line, Thomas set the loaded weapon at his feet, and turned off the radio. Ten feet in front of him, Hector stopped dancing.

  "Hey." Hector griped, turning around.

  "Hey, what?" Thomas asked.

  "Hey, I was listening to that." Hector complained.

  "So was I." Thomas replied.

  "Then why did you shut it off?" Hector asked.

  "Because I was sleeping." He explained. "And I didn't want to be listening to it."

  "Are you saying it was a little too loud?" Hector asked.

  "No." Thomas insisted. "I'm saying it was way too loud."

  "Well, you can turn it down if you like." Hector replied. "Just don't turn it off."

  "I can do better than that." Thomas said, throwing the radio overboard.

  "What did you go and do that for?" Hector asked.

  "Because." Thomas replied. "I am sick of your stupid music. And I am sick of your stupid dancing. And I am sick of your stupid singing. And I am sick of you."

  "Somebody is in a bad mood this morning." Hector noted.

  "What did I tell you about tying the wheel off?" Thomas asked.

  "Nothing." Hector replied. "You told me not to tie it off and go to sleep. I did not go to sleep."

  "I told you not to tie it off or go to sleep." Thomas replied.

  "Did not." Hector replied.

  "Stop it!" Thomas shouted. "You're acting like a baby."

  "Am not." Hector insisted.

  "Enough!" Thomas hollered.

  "Sorry." Hector said, seeing how frustrated Thomas had become. "But since you've lost the radio, I'll only be forced to sing more."

  "And what will you sing?" Thomas asked.

  "Songs." Hector replied.