“I get that. I’ve had enough too. Think I’ll make a quick trip to the ladies’ room before we decide when this interview will actually happen. Watch my coat please?”
Ana slid out of her seat and then moved gracefully between the tables until she was out of his sight. As Ben scanned the room he noticed that the scruffy man had returned to the pub. He was seated at a table with another man, and they were deep in what appeared to be a serious and very private conversation. The other man looked to be in his twenties and was dressed in a suit and tie, but in spite of such attire he did not look the part. The scruffy man leaned back in his chair as his companion leaned forward and pounded on the table several times. He rose quickly, grabbed his old wool coat and made another quick exit, this time heading for the men’s room. The man in the suit waited for a short while, finishing his beer, then got up and left. By this time, Ben’s curiosity was more than piqued, and his imagination had started to work overtime.
There was a long queue for the Ladies, but Ana joined it and waited. She tried to avoid eavesdropping on the friendly conversations of the women lined up against the wall. She noticed an elderly man come out of the men’s room and tried to step aside for him as he squeezed by the line of women in the narrow hallway. Another man entered the hallway from the opposite direction, and as he strode by, he very nearly pushed the elderly man against the wall. As he passed Ana, she caught the scent of sweat and damp wool. He went into the Men’s and came out rather quickly. He pulled a phone out of his coat pocket and dialed. When the party answered, he spoke in a hushed tone. Even though he was turned away from her, his proximity allowed her to hear his anxious words over the women’s banter.
“He’s still here. He’s drinking at a table. Talking to some woman,” he said, turning around to see who might be listening. He paused, waiting for the person on the other end to stop speaking. “Our unwilling associate Mr. Logan hasn’t turned out to be very cooperative. I’ve been talking to him at a table and he got wound up, started banging on it and drawing attention. We need to change our plan. He won’t like that, or what’s going to happen to him if he causes trouble.”
Before he had finished his call, it was finally Ana’s turn to enter the restroom. She went in, freshened her hair and makeup, and tried to push what she had overheard out of her mind. After all, there was a handsome man waiting for her, and he probably wondered where she’d gotten to after all this time. Coming out of the restroom she noticed that the man had left the hallway. She didn’t understand why that fact made her feel relieved.
Ana returned to the table, and Ben stood to push in her chair as she sat. She had brushed her hair and applied lipstick. Her cheeks were still rosy from the cold, and Ben became even more taken with her. He pushed the two men from his mind and returned to the matter at hand. “I think we’ve squeezed all we can from this evening,” he said. “Would it work for you if we set up another meeting, maybe tomorrow or the next day?”
“I’m sure we can work out something that’s convenient for you. I must admit, my feet are really cold now. I think I’d be smart to get back to the hotel for a warm bath and some sleep.”
Without being summoned, Ben’s previous train of thought returned. But in this fantasy Ana was languishing in a perfumed bubble bath, surrounded by soft candlelight. Her hair was piled high on her head, and the soothing sounds of Debussy filled the air. Once again he shook himself back to the present, mystified by how she had become the main character in a variety of possible story lines going through his head. It was much simpler than that. He wanted her.
Ana stood and reached for the raincoat Ben had slung onto the back of a vacant chair. He got up quickly and helped her ease into it. She wound the silk scarf loosely around her neck and glanced up at Ben, wondering what would come next. He seemed to be hesitating, and Ana could tell he was thinking ahead, perhaps deciding how to play out the rest of their first meeting. When Ana picked up her handbag and tablet case, obviously anxious to leave, Ben knew he wanted to slow things down.
“We still haven’t decided on a time for the ‘real’ interview. I’m only in London for another three days. Then I’m expected at my parent’s country house for a scheduled period of questions and suggestions about my life.”
“Well, your tone of voice didn’t sound resentful, so I guess you don’t mind, or else you’re used to it.”
“No, they’re great. I don’t mind their efforts to micro-manage my life. I listen politely and then do as I please. And though they wouldn’t admit it, by now they know it goes in one ear and out the other. Actually, I think it’s a case of needing a periodic catharsis for all of their secret worries about their children. These few days of ‘advising’ will last them for months.”
Ben’s expression softened as he spoke of his parents, and although he wouldn’t have guessed, it gained him some points with Ana. As they headed for the door Ben stuffed a generous tip into the jar at the end of the bar, earning him a smile and a nod from the harried bartender. As they started through the doorway, Ben put his arm around Ana’s waist. She turned to him with a devilish expression and said, “No worries. I plan to make an exit that’s much more graceful than my entrance.”
Once outside, they paused under the portico and noticed that the rain had stopped. A chilly breeze carried the scent of wet pavement and an eclectic assortment of aromas from nearby restaurants. The sky was cosmos-dark, and stars peeked through the wisps of gray clouds that remained after the all-day rain.
Ben turned to her and asked, “Are you still cold? I’ll need to dash up to the street to get you a cab. Do you want to wait here or come with me?”
“I’m too cold to just stand here and wait. It’ll save time if I come with you. Remember, I won’t be able to keep up with your long legs. I have to tip toe around the puddles or these boots will be history.” Ana looked down and sighed. “They may be already.”
“Hold onto my arm for balance. And by the way, what possessed you to wear suede in this weather?” His laugh said that he was teasing, not criticizing.
“I travel light. It’s the only pair I brought. Guess we Americans don’t know English weather very well. Live and learn.” She slid her arm through his and said, “Let’s go.”
When they had made their way up the alley and reached the street, Ben stepped out to the curb to see if he could spot a cab approaching. He looked both ways and saw that the street was devoid of vehicles. At the same moment, a dark sedan came around the corner, tires screeching, slammed on its brakes, and stopped directly where he stood. A man jumped out, ran around the back of the car and lunged for Ben, startling Ana and causing her to yell for help. The man had a shaved head and wore a frayed leather jacket. He kicked at Ben with muddy motorcycle boots, trying to knock him to the ground. Ben momentarily lost his balance and the man grabbed his arm and violently twisted it behind his back. Ben cried out with pain, but managed to spin around, only to meet his assailant’s fist with his face. Ben fell backwards against the car, disoriented. As he rushed forward in another effort to fend off the attack, Ana once again screamed out for help.
In a brief moment of serendipity, a trio of robust-looking young men came lumbering up the alley from the pub. Seeing what was happening, and being full of beer and bravado, they willingly jumped into the fray. The driver of the sedan finally got out to assist in subduing Ben, leaving the engine running for a quick getaway. Ana felt helpless and terrified, but she immediately recognized the driver as the man whose conversation she observed while waiting in line for the restroom. The young men tackled the two assailants. The largest of the three pounced on the man with the shaved head, and the other two took on the other. Both men were pushed to their knees and then face down on the sidewalk, while their arms were held behind them, ready for handcuffs. Ben was still staggering from the blow to his face, but had tried to join the fight. They told him to stay back, and Ana ran to his side.
There wasn’t a policeman in sight, so without handcuffs or weapons, they
had only two choices: They could stay and continue struggling with their prisoners while a bystander called 999, but the two would continue trying to free themselves; the other choice was just to release them and send them on their way. Evidently, the young threesome felt they had given enough of their time, so they released the assailants, kicked each of them in the ‘arse,’ all yelling expletives, and watched them jump into their vehicle. As quickly as they had come, they were gone, the dark sedan screeching away on the wet street and disappearing into the night.
The huskiest of the three took Ben squarely by the shoulders and asked, “What in hell did you do to piss them off?” His buddies chuckled and slapped each other on the back. “Are you all right, mate,” he asked, his tone now serious. “Do you need an ambulance?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. No ambulance needed,” he said, showing a bit of bravado himself. He reached up to wipe the blood from his chin.
Ana wondered if the bravado was for her benefit or theirs. At that moment her only focus was the terror she felt when he was in danger. One of the other young men could see that she was shivering, obviously shaken by the experience. He took her aside and asked if she wanted him to call 999, in spite of what Ben had said. She shook her head no, but then countered with her concern for whether Ben had any significant injuries. The miscreant had hyper-extended his arm, kicked him, and punched him once, hard. Blood was trickling from his nose and the side of his mouth, and his bleeding lip was beginning to swell. The sight of his handsome face in that state brought a lump to Ana’s throat. She revisited the need for medical assistance, but again Ben declined. The three men hung around for a short while, high on the excitement and mindful of the possibility of another try to abduct Ben. The resulting noise from the goings on had drawn a small group of curious minded pub-crawlers, and when they crowded in around Ben, Ana warned them off and asked them to disperse. Since there was no more excitement, they quickly lost interest and did as she had asked.
Within a few minutes a cab happened up the street, and in the hope of a fare, began to slow as it approached the group. The three men flagged it down and escorted Ben and Ana into the back seat. Ben asked for their names and addresses and couldn’t thank them enough. They declined, and because of the trio’s collective youth, tried to make light of what had happened, saying that it was all in a night’s work.
As the cab pulled away, the good Samaritans continued their evening, loping down the street, punching each other in the arm, laughing, turning to look at a pair of young women who were passing them by as quickly as possible. Ben and Ana settled back in the seat, both incredulous about what had just happened. He informed the driver that her hotel would be the first stop. Ana replied that she was worried about leaving him on his own, but told the driver the name of her hotel.
“So you don’t think I can take care of myself?” Ben sounded a bit offended, and Ana knew he was only half kidding. “You know, that guy took me by surprise. If it had been just one guy, he would be sporting more than fat lip and aching shoulder.”
“What in the world would they want with you? It was obvious that he wanted to get you into that car. Clearly, it was meant to be an abduction.” She paused then added, “They didn’t seem to have any use for me. It was definitely about you.”
“Thank God for that!” he said, shaking his head and reaching for her hand. Other than the assistance of his arm as she navigated the puddles, this was their first real touch. In spite of the fear and violence of the last hour, his warm hand on hers, the feeling of his fingers closing around it, the squeeze that was just strong enough, all served to send a different kind of adrenaline rush throughout her body. During the quiet moments that followed, Ben’s hand remained there, his touch easily taking away Ana’s fear.
As the taxi continued to jockey in and out of traffic, they both looked out the windows into the night. The streets were still wet, and reflections from the street lamps and lighted signs sparkled on the pavement. Eventually, Ben spoke. “The whole thing is odd. I may have sold a few books, but I’m a very unlikely candidate to bring a decent ransom.” He was quiet for a few minutes then continued to assess the incident. “But the strangest part of it is about the guy who was driving. It was that disheveled man in the wet wool coat. I couldn’t forget that smell. He’d sidled up next to me at the bar while I was waiting for you.”
“Oh my God… I saw him too, when I went to the restroom. I couldn’t help but overhear him talking to someone on his mobile. He was almost mumbling, definitely didn’t want to be heard, but I was in line rather close to where he stood, and I did hear part of the conversation. He said that some guy was at a table drinking with some woman. Could that man have been you?” Ben didn’t respond, waiting for her to continue. “Then he pushed an older man who was leaving the men’s restroom against the wall. Seems our smelly man was trying to get out of the hallway in a hurry. From his expression I thought the guy he pushed was going to go after him, in spite of his age.”
“While I was waiting for you to come back, I watched him at a table with some young guy— rugged type. He had his back to me so I didn’t see his face. I could tell they were arguing. I’m sure the young guy wasn’t the one who grabbed me. But it happened so fast that I didn’t see much before whoever it was punched me silly. All I remember is that he smelled of leather and fried fish.”
“I got a look at him. His head was shaved, and it had a black tattoo across the top.” Ana shuddered, made a sound of disgust, and added, “But it’s still not much to go on, is it?”
She pulled a handkerchief out of her handbag and turned toward Ben. There was a fair amount of blood on his mouth and chin. A small amount had dripped onto the blue sweater, the whole scene making it look as though his injuries were more severe than they actually were. Ana dabbed at the blood on both his face and sweater, but it had dried. When Ben saw the nurturing look on her face it comforted him. He leaned his head back against the seat and whispered, “Fuck, my shoulder hurts.”
CHAPTER TWO
The taxi driver had no choice but to join the heavier traffic flow on Regent Street, one of the main thoroughfares leading to Ana’s hotel. Neither Ben nor Ana had made any effort to separate their hands. His grip had relaxed, and when glancing aside she saw that his eyes were closed; however, his forehead was creased and showed his level of discomfort. She noticed the driver glancing at them in his mirror several times, possibly curious about the blood on Ben’s face.
At the next red signal, he turned to them and in an unrecognizable accent asked, “Might be he need doctor?”
Ben and Ana both started to talk at the same time. He said no and she said thanks anyway. The driver shook his head and turned back to face the road. Several minutes later the taxi turned a corner onto a quiet street, where about half way down there was a lighted hotel sign. Ana scooted forward preparing to get out. Ben turned slightly to reach for his wallet. He let out a stifled sound of pain as his left arm refused to reach back. Seeing the grimace on his face, she reached for his arm and gently rearranged it in his lap.
“I’ll get this,” she said, digging into her bag. She handed the pound notes forward and then hesitated. “Ben, you just can’t go back to your hotel. You won’t manage with so much pain and without the use of your arm. You really do need some attention. Besides, do you really want to walk through your posh hotel lobby with dried blood all over your face?”
“Who says I’m staying at a posh hotel,” he said, trying to lighten things up a bit.
“One would assume that the digs of a successful author would have more stars than my humble lodgings.”
Ben had a look of exasperation on his face and was shaking his head as he said, “I’m not staying at a hotel, posh or not. I keep a flat in Chelsea.”
“I besiege you, Benedict McKinnon, quit trying to be clever and face the reality of the situation. Come in with me, at least long enough to get an icepack on that shoulder. We can reassess later, after we see what the ice does.”
The driver revved the engine as a polite way of telling the couple to disembark and let him be on his way. With a sigh of agreement Ben pulled himself forward with his good arm, turned toward Ana and said, “I’m afraid you’ll have to reach across me to open the door.” Ana did as he asked and pushed it open as far as she could. Clearly aggravated, Ben added, “I should be going around to open your door and escort you to the entrance of your hotel. Instead, I’m being treated like a child.”
“You know what our parents always said: If you don’t want to be treated like a child, don’t act like one.” She looked at Ben impatiently. The driver got out and opened the door on Ana’s side, and she quickly went around the vehicle to help Ben.
He was out and had slammed the taxi door before she got there. He had put his hand in the pocket of his jacket in a vain attempt to support the shoulder. He took her arm with his other hand and led her toward the entrance, pausing for a moment to make what Ana took as a revealing comment. “I’ve been asked up to the hotel room of a few women in my time, but never because I was in need of an icepack. I hope this is the one and only time for that.”
Ana smiled and replied, “That’s a bit too much bragging for a man in your condition.”
He broke into the first smile she had seen since early in their conversation at the pub. Ana pushed open one of the double glass doors and held it aside for him to enter.
“I have to admit, most gals would be turned off by blood. But you’re quite a trooper.”
“You underestimate us. And besides, the boys in my neighborhood were always getting into fights. Your split lip and bloody nose aren’t the first I’ve seen,” she said, walking confidently into the lobby with Ben following close behind.
There were a few stares from guests who were still reading or socializing in the overstuffed chairs, and the concierge immediately set his eyes on them. He called out from behind the counter, “Is there anything you need, Ms. Doherty? Will your friend be staying?”
Good Deed Bad Deed : A Novel Mystery Page 2