11:00
A young twenty-something grabbed a pair of gloves grabbed a pair of gloves, from the top draw of the forensics truck. I wrapped my hand around hers, and gently escorted her to her patrol car. I turned to my partner, and gently whispered
"Once we identify the body, we will need capable officers, to close this case quickly"
"Who were you thinking?"
Before, I had a chance to tell him a name; the medical-examiner turned up. He was a twenty-something with a platted-beard and large gold-chains dangling down the front of his check shirt. As he got closer, I could smell the remains of last night's meal; matted pieces of meat, dangled dangerously down the front of his large beard. He grabbed a black phone and softly muttered
"They found her."
The man on the other end of the line, calmly explained
"I am still waiting to see how this is my problem; he was sloppy, he knew the risks, and it was him and him alone who pulled the trigger."
"Is that so? Every nut, bolt, screw and hammer knows its place in your organisation; so it is odd that you let one rogue agent potentially wreck your legacy."
"He knew the risks and he will be dealt with. "
"By who, clearly you need to look closely at who you can trust."
Aside
Parlor
9:00 pm
I heard my phone vibrate on the bedside table. My girlfriend brushed her hair away from her face and softly asked
"Are you going to answer it?"
I kissed her on the cheek and grabbed my car keys. An abandoned building shone brightly in the distance. As I got closer, I saw a couple of burly men standing out the front. I parked around the back. I felt a hand rest on the back of my shoulder. His rough hands clawed down my ear; before his beer breathe placed a blind-fold on me. He softly stated
"This is a sign that The Old Man trusts you; do not make us rethink that decision."
I felt the bright spot-light burn. A young boy handed me a 45 calibre bullet, and a silver hand-gun and whispered
"To earn our respect you have to prove yourself. There are a couple of people who have stuck their noses in places where they do not belong; I want you to use your skill-set."
9:30 pm
Young women in a see-thru night-gown answered the door. I placed my hand on her throat and whispered
"Is there anyone else in the house?"
I gently said
"Get into the lounge-room, and don't scream"
I felt her teeth clamp down on my palm. Blood slowly dribbled out of the base. I slapped her and yelled
"Bitch! Why did you do that?"
I showed her the gun and stated
"You know what will happen if you keep playing this game"
She laughed
"They are going to far worse that kill me."
I clocked my gun
"Give me a reason to not do it. I want their respect and this is how I get it."
She grabbed the butt of the gun and placed it to her temple
"Fire away; I am dead anyway, I would rather it be a bullet in the head than a knife in the back."
I unzipped the duffle-bag, and put her still bleeding head onto the wood-table in the centre of the room. I smiled and stated
"Proof of death"
"Well played"
Base of the river
12:00
"Do we have an ID?"
"A local stripper called Ramona"
"What is that tattoo on her face?"
He pulled her blonde hair back to reveal, a large tribal tattoo. He softly replied
"It is a marking which The Association uses to mark assets."
"Why did they kill an asset?"
"They must have found out that she was talking to us."
"Can we match the killings to anyone in our system?"
He dragged his hand alone the side of her throat, he gently noted how clean the strike was; a professional. He dejected walked over and whispered
"Either this is his first kill, which I find highly unlikely or we have simply never found a body before this one to identify him. "
"What do we know about the ME?"
"Some guy from out of state."
"I think he is one of them, look at the marking on the side of his neck it is the same as the victim; coincidence I think not; get a full work up on him, everyone he is associated with. But do it discreetly heavens knows the last thing we need is the big bosses upstairs getting their hands on our information."
FBI office
2:00
I saw the beaming face of Morty as I walked through the door; he was holding a couple of large A4 pieces of paper. He gently put them down on the desk, and silently asked
"This is what I could find on your friend the ME"
I laughed, and coldly stated
"Seems a little thin"
"Born and raised in Kosovo; His mother was a Croatian national and his father was Serbian. They moved to the US a couple of years after his tenth birthday and fell in love with the place. They were granted citizenship the following year"
"Why did they not complete the citizenship test?"
"They were fleeing the Croatian war of independent."
"How is he linked with Walter?"
"Through Walters daughter. "
Morty handed me a print out of a couple of pictures from the tabloids.
"These were taken when our friend was about twenty one. The girl on the right is Walters Daughter. Interesting girl; born and raised in Detroit but moved to California when she was twelve. From there she moved around a lot, until she was twenty, when she got a gig as a model for Dolce and Gabbana, which is where she met our mystery man. Our mystery man became very successful after moving to America. He worked along-side former vice president Dick Chaney; to help him sell weapons in Afghanistan."
"But that does not explain how she fell in love with a weapons dealer."
"The simple answer boss is that she simply liked the smell of the all mighty dollar; and he had a lot of it. It was simply a relationship of convenience. "
"Where is she now?"
He pulled out the final piece of paper, and softly stated
"Lying twelve feet underground. Two years ago, she broke up with our ME and decided to go chasing something with a little bit more flare. That is where she found Walter Summerfield. Summerfield is a trust-fund baby who loves to party hard. But Summerfield has a dirty secret; he is a very successful drug manufacturer. He owed some money to one of the little brothers of Visley Koscov
He is the head of the Odessa Mafia. The mafia is known for dismembering body-parts of their victims and sending them to their enemies. He did not take too kindly to someone disrespecting a member of his family, and decided to start chopping pieces off of her body. I worked the case, but after a couple of months the case went cold. We were not able to link it to the Odessa Mafia or Visley."
"When did our Mystery man decide to become an ME?"
Morty shook his head
"No idea. That is where my investigation ran cold. There is no evidence that he even went to Medical school. Chances are, that he is not a real ME and has simply killed the owner of the badge and is using it, to get close to us."
"Besides him dating Walters's daughter is there any other link to Walter Whitman?"
He nodded
"Ten years ago, Walter was a part of the peace –core, one of his first missions was to help the people of Croatia after their fight for independent with Yugoslavia. That is where he met Tonia. Tonia was married, but they had gotten a divorce the year prior. Tonia's husband was working with the Yugoslavian's; selling drugs and guns to their army. It was an amicable divorce."
Aside
Parlor - 9:00
The smoke billowed out of the top of the crate. I felt the black-hood drape over me. I felt the nylon-rope dig into the side of my wrists. I felt the blood, drip down onto the concrete floor. I heard a booming-voice gruffly whisper
"Please don't drip onto the floor, I only polished it a couple of weeks ago. It is time for you to be officially apart of this organisation."
He placed the hood on the ground and grabbed the poker out of the fire. I felt it burn as it brushed across my skin. I whaled in pain. The young man, wrapped his hand around my neck, and whispered
"Keep yelling and you will end up in that crate. "
"There is one more thing."
He grabbed a couple of burly-men from the corner. They grabbed the tattoo gun, and crashed me against the chair, and they began tattooing their mark onto me.
"With this symbol it shows that we trust you; but do not think for a second that we will feel anything when we take you out."
I anxiously asked
"When do I get to meet the old man?"
He whispered
"You don't want to meet him; rumour goes, the last guy that went into his office, was dragged out in a body-bag."
I laughed
"You seriously think that is true."
"I do; and if you have any brains left, you will never ask that question again. This is not a play-ground, this is serious. "
"Who the hell is he anyway?"
"It is best not to ask."
The Farm
3:00
"Who did they find in the lake?"
"Do you remember Ramona?"
"Was she the one who gave those fantastic lap dances?"
"Yes. A couple of our assets found out she was trying to stop our boy from working with us."
"If they can link Ramona to our killer what stops them from linking him to us?"
"They can link him to the ME, because he is the one who hired him and trained him, but that is it. I had nothing to do with him. If it comes to it, I can denounce him; say he is an illegitimate, adopted-son."
"Isn't that what he is?"
"After my first mission to Croatia; I met someone. Tina, had recently found out that her husband was supplying the enemy with weapons and they broke up, their son was lost and she needed stability, and I could offer her that. So I started dating her; adopted her son and helped her get out of the country. We were together for two years before my daughter was born."
"But as far as far as I am aware you did nothing wrong; if anything you are a hero."
"It is all about perception. People perceive me as a bad guy already due to my involvement in the bank investigation you add this on top, and you have a hole which might be too hard to climb out of."
"So what do you want to do?"
"Honestly I don't know. There is no simple fix for this; if I kill my son they start asking questions, but if he stays alive it is only a matter of time before they link him with our killer."
"What about a compromise. You give the authorities the ME in exchange for immunity."
To get immunity they would want the keys to the operation, and I don't want to do that; and you shouldn't want to do that either. Do you really want to watch your life's work go up in flames?"
"It is the only play that we have."
"I will keep you updated on the investigation, and let you know what the play is."
The Parlor
9:00
"You are wanted"
A monotone security-guard bellowed
Deer's heads hung on a black-background on the far side of the room. Above his bespoke-gold desk, sat a portrait of himself. As I drew closer, I could see a large-black box proudly positioned to the far right of his desk. Behind him, on an ever-sized coat-rack, a thick black coat sat solemnly. The old man's wrinkled hand pointed to the seat in front of him and hoarsely stated
"You got sloppy didn't you? You had one job, get rid of the body, and you failed! Now I have to choose between keeping you alive or killing you. The answer I thought was obvious killing you, and burying you somewhere in the middle of no-where.
But someone much wiser than me raised a point. If I killed you, then there would be questions raised."
He ushered me closer, and gently squeezed the box open, revealing a glimmering gold fourty-four calibre hand-gun
"This was a present from my Son for my fourth birthday. It was something he received from the prince of Saudi-Arabic the last time he went there. It seems like such a shame to use such a beautiful bullet on something as despicably lonesome as you. "
He cocked the gun, and placed it down on his desk, facing me. He softly asked
"Do you know what I find strange; a man of such prestigious talent not taking into consideration the tide, when dumping the body into the river?"
I mumbled under my breathe
"It was a rushed job"
He laughed
"No it wasn't, but I guess that is a good lie to help you sleep at night isn't it. The job was simple; a calculated risk, I knew that it would not win me any favours with my son, but I knew that it would keep you in a job with me and that is all that I cared about.
Now tell me again why you didn't do what we told you to do; dispose of the body where it could not be found. "
"Like I said it was a rushed job..."
He slammed his hand on the table, and picked up the gun, and pointed it at me.
"Stop with the lies! It was not a rushed job. You had ample time to make sure that the body would not be discovered and instead you chucked it down into the river. Do you want to know what I think? I think you wanted them to find the body"
"Why would I want that?"
He un-cocked the gun, and placed it back into the gold box
"I guess you are right, it does sound a bit far-fetched."
He showed me to the door. As I was leaving back into the club-house, I saw him mouth something to his hench-man. I felt the cold plastic duck-tape wrap around my mouth. I heard the smooth sound of the rope being un-spooled from the line. I felt the synthetic rope, enclose around me, like an anaconda suffocating its victims. I felt the drugs coursing through my veins
I heard the muffled sound of a car-boot opening. I felt the bumps of the road, as we couriered down an old, dirt-road. I saw his mangled hands, swathe my skinny body. He smiled as he slowly began digging my grave.
"Is it done?"
"Yes sir
Aside
The officers huddled around my desk, and gently placed the briefing notes on the ground. A new officer with radiant blonde hair gently blew in the breeze. Her manicured hand moved down her blouse to whip off the egg she had spilled on it, revealing a lacey black bra. She smiled and adjusted her glasses, before softly stating
"I am a bit new here, your Lieutant asked me to assist with the case."
She grabbed the door knob, and closed it behind her
"This is a highly sensitive case; and therefore has been marked as need to know. Only the people in this room will know the details of the case. A few years ago a man affectionately called "The Old Man" was granted diplomatic asylum in the U.S.A. he was a peacekeeping officer who had recently fled Croatia with his new girlfriend and a nine month old baby boy named Christopher.
The Old Man quickly grew a large and successful empire here, trafficking women to allies. These Marked women were sold to his allies in return for favours. One of his largest clients was a man known as Walter Whitman.
Walter is a banker. He established Walter and associates when he was twenty years old, when he was twenty seven he was voted one of the wealthiest men in the US. Through that bank, Walter funnels The Old man's money. And now the old man is here to settle all of his debts and cash out his chips.
Our problem; Walter is dead and the grand-children have been using daddies bank as a personal piggy-bank, running it dry. Christopher soon developed and grew into one of the largest weapons dealers in the world; assisting and supplying weapons to the Afghanis, during 9/11 as well as to other well funded separatists in Asia and Africa. Needless to say Chris loves the smell of blood.
With the help of his father the two of them established The Parlor ten years ago. Our mission is to infiltrate the organisation and stop Chris"
"Do we have a way in?"
The young women pointed to the other officers, and gently stated
"You are done here, I need the room"
I was alone with the angel. She gently brushed her fingers along the side of my neck. I felt her cold lips smoothly run down my skin. She tenderly un-buttoned my shirt and placed the cold metal against my skin. She softly whispered
"Your contact is an ex-con. She runs a strip club which Chris likes to visit. He especially loves the girl who works the front-counter. Her name is Ramona"
She handed me my nine millimetre and stated
"If you have to use it, make sure you get a clean shot. You are dismissed"
9:30
Strip-club
A brooding young man, sat at the bar. I saw his wedding-band glistening in the light. He smiled, and placed a crumbled up twenty-dollar bill on the bar. I saw the eyes of the bar-tender dart nervously around the room before whispering something in his ear
She pushed the sliding door of the bar open and gently escorted him to one of the room at the back; she slid the curtain across the front of the door closed. I grabbed a couple of empty beer-bottles from the top of the bar, and made my way to a booth.
My contact was sitting at the booth adjacent to the bar; she gently whispered in my ear
"You know you have to give them back."
I shook my head
"This is one of the oldest tricks in the book; how do you think I lasted my years at the academy, broke. You would go to the bar, and wait for some poor sod to go to the toilet; and then you would take sips of his drink, he would order another. By the end of the night you were as drunk as a skunk."
She laughed, and anxiously said
"Do you know whose drink you have stolen?"
I shook my head
"No"
"That is Christopher's. He is out with one of his favourite girls; Ramona."
I saw the flaps of the curtains open. I saw his face turn bright red. I heard the thud of his fists slam on the top of the bar. I saw him point at me. The ex-con gently pointed to the back-door, and gently said
"I need to have a cigarette, why don't you join me; maybe by the time we get back, he would have calmed down a little-bit."
The wind howled. The ex-con moved the bulky coffee-can from the corner to adjacent to the door. I watched as the amber light at the butt of her camel-cigarette glowed brightly. She delicately puffed, before blowing the smoke out. It danced along the wind before blowing into my face. She gently leaned in close and whispered
"You must be one of the new guys. They told me that one of the police would try and infiltrate the organisation but I thought that you would be a hell of a lot smarter than that."
"So tell me about how the marked girls made their way to the strip-club?"
I heard the butt crackle as she smudged it against the side of the can.
"Christopher rescues them. A lot of the girls here were sleeping rough on the streets; or selling their souls on the side of the road to make enough to rent a cheap motel. For a lot of them, the only home that they know is here..."
"But you have a different story don't you."
"Chris was the one who bailed me out of jail, and to keep me on the straight and narrow he told me that I had to work at his club."
I brushed back her blonde-hair, and saw the blood congealed at the top of her neck. I asked
"Did he do that to you?"
She pushed my hand away, and gently replied
"You don't know him as well as I do. He is passionate about this club; and that was the punishment I received for not honouring his vision."
I smirked
"This is not a holding-cell; this is a strip-club. He has no right to treat you the way that he treated you."
I looked at my watch, and gently stated
"I have got to go to a briefing in the morning, but I can promise you one thing; once she knows about what he has done to you, then you will be the first one out of this place."
"I have heard those words before; but all they did was fall short of their mark. I know you wouldn't get me out of this hell hole, and if I am honest this whole thing might be the biggest mistake of your life."
She reached into her pocket and lit another camel cigarette
Home
9:00
I grabbed a drink from the fridge and placed them on the table. I cracked the top off and gave her one. The young women brushed her blonde hair away from her face, and gently kissed me on the cheek.
"So how did your meeting go last night?"
I gently asked
"Did you know he beat her before you set up the meeting?"
She shook her head
"Would it have changed anything; he is an appalling human being who controls and manipulates women. You now see why we have to stop him."
"Why did you lie to me?"
"Because I knew what you would say if you knew. You have been programmed to follow your heart, and in this line of work that is the most dangerous thing to do. For us to be successful you have to take your emotions out of the equation and think rationally. Hopefully you can still do that"
I pointed to the porch
"I think I need some time to think about what I do next."
She grabbed a camel cigarette from her pouch and opened the bi-folding doors. She grabbed a green lighter from her top pocket, and lit her smoke.
"This whole thing is going to crumble down like a house of cards."
FBI building
9:00
I shuffled through what remained of the case-notes, handing the intact information to my partner, and placing the rest back in the box.
"Do you know what I find strange; someone like Morty would have all of the connections to get whatever information he wanted? I think he is hiding something."
"What are you saying?"
"He seemed coy; when he was in here yesterday and when we brought up the old man and the body he was jumpy"
"And..."
"And if he didn't do anything why would he act that way; only a guilty man acts that way"
"You can't prove it can you. You can talk about how coy he looks or the way you think him not being straight makes you feel; but that is all they are, thoughts and feelings.
The police force does not base investigation on those biases."
"What if we found the notes for the task force; then we could question, press him hard enough and we might get the truth"
"Those notes are confidence; they contain information which could potentially damage everyone who is associated with them. It is like using a blow-torch to cook an egg."
"But do I have your support?"
"Morty is not the one under investigation; Walter and the Old Man are."
"That is true but is worth acknowledging this link."
Aside
9:30
Strip-club
Ramona was out for the night. This meant that Chris had softened dramatically. My contact dimmed the light, and made her way to the stage. A young, twenty-something with piercing blue eyes, and a snow-white see-through tank-top stood in the wings. She anxiously peered her head around the corner to see who was in the crowd. I saw her gently move her hands over her tank-top feeling the soft-fabric beneath her fingers. After a couple of seconds, she made her way to the stripper pole and got into position.
Chris grabbed a drink from behind the bar, and gently stated
"You are going to love this little fire-cracker. I found her selling her body for a couple of twenties down at one of those seedy-hotels. I was her first client; when I saw her work, I knew I had to have her."
Her hot pants shimmered in the disco-light. She ripped them off and threw them into the front-row.
"Obviously she didn't have a lot of stage presence but that was an easy fix."
I leaned in and whispered
"Did you really find her in a hotel room?"
She placed her hand over her blouse, and placed it next to the side of the stage to reveal a satin-black bra; which barely managed to contain her clearly enhanced breasts. Chris smiled
"The regulars love her; she had a smaller frame, but I told her studies show that women with bigger breasts get larger tips. But you are not here for the show. Do you want to know how I know that? For one you have not looked at her once; clearly you are interested in something else.
Sam I am guessing; it is a tight group of girls and gossip flies freely back stage. A visit a week; either you are not getting any at home, or you are rich "
"I have no idea about stocks. " I dejectingly remarked
"All I know is that the stock market fluctuates; when you are up you never stay there for long."
He pointed to the cordoned off area
"Do you want some free advice?"
"Sure"
"Own bars; there is always some drunk who is more than willing to help pay-off your home"
"Is that where you got your wealth?"
He scoffed
"Sadly no; I got it through weapons. I didn't care who you were, all I cared about was making sure that the cheque didn't bounce. Do you want a couple of lap-dances? I can arrange one with your favourite girl"
"Is she working tonight?"
He grabbed his phone
"The good thing about being the owner is; if you want it you can get it. There is one condition; don't touch the product."
"Why is that?"
"I like to keep them pure for myself."
He unfurled a large red curtain; and made his way to his Oak desk, which sat under his immaculate staircase. At the end of the 4 *4 rooms at his secretary; she wore a platted black dress and tight leggings. Her blonde hair was tied back in a French-braid. She stared dejectingly at the blank word document which mockingly sat before her. Chris smiled, and rested his hand on her shoulder, he softly whispered
"I am sure you will find the right words, you always do"
On his desk, a scarlet red phone sat idel. He placed his fat fingers in the small holes, and began calling
"I don't think I have seen those since the 50's."
"I know it is old-school, but it is the most effective ways of keeping off of the grid; take a seat, Sam will be in shortly."
He poured a dark liquid into a tall, shot-glass and made his way to the record player
"There are few more talented musicians as Louis Armstrong; the man had the affinity to create magic with every note he wrote, and this was one of my favourites. When I got to the states I got a job at a record store. I worked night and day to raise enough money to buy this record."
I took a spiff of the drink, and stated
"That is very strong"
He smiled and replied
"Americans have always had a problem with diluting there alcohol. This is the pure, un-cut diamond of my home-land"
My eyes darted around the room; and that is when I saw The Dave Brubeck Quartet single, time out. I moved my hand over the record, and felt the vinyl beneath my fingers. Chris smiled,
"Are you a Dave Brubeck Fan?"
I placed it back
"No; I only know him by reputation"
"This was from my first girlfriend; she was a massive fan, every album and ticket stub, payed an arm a leg and her left kidney for them. She was one of the regulars down at the record store. We got drinks, and that is when she handed me her mix-tape that she had meticulously planned. She got this album along with John Coltrane's Giant steps and Ella Fitzgerald's Porgy and Bess which she created along -side Louis Armstrong."
"What happened to her?"
He finished the call and pointed to the curtain
"I will leave you with Sam; have fun and enjoy yourself."
The young women made her way to the collection and placed Cantaloupe Island by Herby Hancock on the turn table and smiled. She gently grabbed my hand, and ushered it to the back of her dress. She grabbed the curtain and pulled it shut. Her dress fell to the floor revealing a bright yellow sports bra. I felt the smooth, silky-fabric beneath my fingers. I heard the ripple of my jean's zipper as she slowly undid my pants
As gracefully as Sam entered the room; she left. Chris saw the herby Hancock on the turn table and smiled
"I am guessing she played Cantaloupe Island. She told you it would set the mood. And judging by your Cheshire grin I am guessing she worked her magic"
The turn table arm returned to its upright position and Chris put the album back. He grabbed a warn-down record from the top shelf. The writing had faded away with the passage of time; but you could make out the block letters la vie en rose Louis Armstrong
"This was the first song that she played to me, when I finally got the balls to ask her out on a date. That day was magical, and the first few months were like that too. I thought that what I had with her, was something that was going to untouched by time; but like pure-things, when it ends it ends violently and viciously.
Judging by the ring on your finger you know the beauty of love as well"
"She was something of an enigma; she had a heart as strong as steel and walls that were ten feet high and almost impenetrable. The few times I saw it, it was magical. But I didn't know when it was time to let go; I sucked everything out of her, and left what remained of her body to be feed on by nefarious people."
"I know that feeling; I made the same mistake. My first girlfriend was one of the first people I brought into the business. Initially she was just working behind the bar; but as she grew in confidence so did her ambitions to be on the stage in lights. "
He grabbed another bottle of the mysterious liquid and poured it into my cup
"I was not going to be the one who stopped her from doing what she loved, so I let her go. She found the spotlight and enjoyed the fame that she got; and the rest they say is history"
I leaned in close and asked
"Is that why you are so protective of Ramona?"
"After my break-up with my first girlfriend, I was lost; drinking at dead end bar after dead end bar, trying to fix the hurt. That is when I found her. She has been the greatest cure in the world."
Chris pushed his chair back from behind the desk, and spoke softly as if not wanting his assistant to hear him. He voice croaked
"People like you and me are not as different as you think. Our paths to this place may have been slightly different but our destination is the same. I like you, so that is why I want to offer you a chance to meet some of my friends down at the Farm.
The Farm
9:00
Walter wore an oversized puffer jacket with custom leather pants and a white handkerchief in his pocket. A large shot-gun rested on his right arm. He grabbed a bottle of beer from the cooler, and said
"What do you drink?"
"Vodka Cruise"
He scoffed and fished his hand into the cooler and found a couple; he gave me one and he gave the other one to a mysterious women.
"I am guessing you are not much of a hunter?"
He placed a packet of cartridges down on the ground and rummaged through to find one. The bullet clicked into the gun. He unlatched the safety and gently stated
"When I was a boy my father would take me hunting; mostly rabbits and Kangaroos but occasionally gamier meats like pigs and boars. The one lesson that I learnt from him was always remaining calm and trust your gut.
And you know what my gut is telling me; treat carefully. "
He grabbed a gun and handed it to me, and pointed to the woods adjacent to his house
"That is where you show me your true metal. A friendly contest. The better of two shots. Since you are the guest you can decide if you want to go first or second."
"Second" I mumbled
Home -9:00
I put blue in the green by John Coltrane on the record player, and grabbed a scotch from the fridge. I saw that my girlfriend was reading something about the body, but I chose to ignore that distraction and let the music consume me. I grabbed the case from the folder, and flicked through the evidence.
One night stood out to me; a girl named Samantha. Samantha had been a regular at Chris's strip-club for four years, which was until two thousand and eight when she stopped stripping for ten years. A skeptical man would simply say she retired found a new partner and left her old life behind her. But the realist in me could see the truth; she was a cog in the mystery investigation
I turned the vinyl over and began playing my one and only love I lay my hands against her shoulder, and shut the files for the night. I felt her soft, supple-lips on my stubble-cheeks. She leaned in close and whispered
"You know that Coltrane turns me on. But this fascination with this case doesn't. Didn't your partner already tell you that the information in that briefing would be jeopardising to the agency."
She un-hooked me from his shoulders, and placed Carry on My Wayward Son by Kansas
"Do you know what I like about Kansas; they were able to follow orders. "
She nervously asked
"What do you know about the body that they found?"
"No idea. My theory is that it was an organised hit"
I grabbed another scotch, and gently asked
"Do you want anything while I am up?"
She shook her head. I placed the scotch bottle down, and placed my funny valentine by Ella Fitzgerald on the record player.
"Walter was a man of mystery. I couldn't tell you a damn thing after he got out of Foster-care; it is like he erased ten years of his life. Now there are only two reasons a man does that; one he has something to hide or two he did something and he does not anyone knowing about it
Option one is easy to explain away; we all have skeletons hiding in our closets. But what scares me is option two. It reveals a side to him that I did not see when I worked for him; the coldness."
"Do you have to be cold to hold something damming?"
"I think monsters have a knack for making people see them as something else."
The woods
I heard the grass beneath my feet. I knelt down and watched as the young buck at the grass. The old man took his rifle out of its case and gently placed two bullets into the chamber.
I heard a click as he placed the rifle-sight onto the top of the gun. I heard his breathe blow against the grass. He clocked the gun and turned off the safety.
I heard the bullet smash against the chest of the deer. Blood slowly pooling under his body, the old man tapped me on the shoulder and said
"It is all about stealth. The deer senses movement; it is in tune with the vibrations of the earth. One mistake and you are holding nothing but dirt."
He turned the safety on and placed it back into its case
"But I am guessing your father already told you all of that"
I grabbed the top of his limb-body and dragged the deer to the tree-line. The old man handed me a knife and gently whispered
"Show me how much of your father's lesson you were paying attention to"
The smell was powerful; even though the deer had been dead for a couple of hours it smelt like it had been dead for weeks. Blood pooled on the top of the blade as I hacked my way through the soft, upper-layer of skin and onto the ribs.
The bones felt brittle and hard. I pointed to the case and said
"I am going to need more than a knife to break through the rib-cage and get you its heart."
I saw his teeth gleam. He un-zipped the case and handed me the butt of the gun. The sound of bones breaking pierced the silent air. I reached into his chest and cut away the connecting tissue. I felt the blood crawl on my skin as I ripped the heart out. I handed him the heart.
He whispered
"Take the first bite of my kill; they say fresh deer is the most delicious."
The old man handed me the gun and stated
"It is one nil"
Home -9:05
Smoke billowed from the shower. My girlfriend opened the door and seductively stated
"Are you ready for a shower?"
I dragged my tank-top over my head, to reveal a large scar.
The woods
The fire crackled. The old man and Walter bathed in its light, trading hunting stories and cold glasses of beer. Out of the corner of my eye I saw The Stranger beckoning me. I felt her cool hands leading me away from the fire and onto the outskirts of the woods. I felt her lips brush against mine, as she gently said
"You may not have picked this up, but I kind of have a thing for you."
I felt my heart in my throat.
"I had no idea; but I can't really feel the same thing we barely know each other for a start."
She placed my hand on the top of her chest and asked
"Why do you want to know those details; it is not like we are going to be going out on any dates any time soon. This is purely a transactional relationship, you are attractive and I want you, it is as simple as that."
She moved my hand to the top of bra. I felt the metal clasp beneath my fingers. I felt her finger-nails clawing at the top of my chest plucking hairs. She laughed
"I know you like it a little bit rough don't you?"
I nervously nodded
I heard a clunk as metal gently fell to the grass.
"I am sure God has seen worse things than this" she gently said
I knelt down to the grass, feeling the dew soak into my pants. I growled and gnarled at the zipper of her jeans. I felt the tang of brass as I slowly wrapped my tongue around the zip. I moved it down to reveal a pair of bright pink panties.
I gently asked
"Are you sure you want to do this; have sex on the grass at some stranger's party?"
She grabbed my hand and I felt the smooth upper-lip of her vulva.
"I am a spontaneous person. This is simply a part of my D.N.A but I understand if this is a little much for you."
"This isn't, I just want to make sure that you don't regret it later."
She reached into her bra, and handed me a gold-wrapped Trojan condom
"I had to guess the size; but judging by the bulge in your pants I thought I would play it on the safe side and go for a large.
Home 9:20
"It was something which happened in my past, and that is where it should stay."
She placed the white towel on the ground and moved her still warm hands over the scar feeling the rough outer-shell. She tenderly kissed me on the lips and said
"Secrets will eventually erode away at a relationship; but for the time being I am happy to leave it where it belongs. "