Chapter 17

Alvin picked Alex up the next morning as she walked back from the market. It was so exciting, like in a James Bond movie. She was grinning like a little girl again as she slid smoothly into the car seat, smiling up at the handsome face of her friend. She giggled.

Early the next morning she had heard a scratching at the door. It was odd, but she thought maybe one of the neighbor's cats had the wrong apartment. Cats weren't allowed but almost all the tenants had either a cat or dog. She opened the door, but didn't see anything. She almost missed the tiny slip of paper on the floor. It hadn't been there earlier when she had mopped the kitchen.

"Market. Red car." The note was puzzling. There was crude diamond at the bottom, and suddenly she knew what who it was from. She threw on her old house dress and her flats and hurried to the market.

The tiny Mom and Pop shop carried a lot of ethnic foods for the changing population in the surrounding neighborhoods and Alex had always enjoyed the simple pleasures of the smells and the strange labels. It made her imagine the lives of the people in those countries, how different they were, yet how much the same as people were everywhere. She wandered the isles for a while, then, with a wave to the owner, headed out.

The shiny red car pulled smoothly in front of her as she was crossing the street. The door popped open and she slipped in. To anyone watching, it would appear as if she had vanished into thin air.

No one was watching. The quiet little man who had been her constant companion before and who had bugged her apartment was now watching another woman. The new one was more of a challenge. She was sneaky and up to something. She had security worthy of his skills. He was excited, or as excited as a non-descript quiet little man could allow himself to become. Finally, a worthy adversary.

"New car?" Alex asked after they had driven for a while.

"Rental," came the one-word reply. Alvin was focused on the rearview mirror, looking for a tail. It was unlikely, but he was taking no chances. He rarely did.

"Oh. Is your car in the shop?"

"Sort of. It had a few bugs in it."

"Oh. What kind of bugs?"

Alvin threw her a disbelieving look. How could she not know? She had been the one to tell him about the ones in the bar and then the one last night. He held up his hand and cupped his ear.

"Oooooh," she said understanding. It was just like James Bond. She slouched down in the seat, below the level of the window. She saw him look and then grin at her new seat on the floorboards. She watched him drive, watching backwards constantly. They made a lot of turns.

Alvin pulled into a deserted parking area in one of the many parks in the city. She had heard about the beautiful parks in this city but had never been in one before. Harold hated parks.

"Miss Alex. We need to talk."

"Can we walk, too? I love parks. There's no one here, not even the joggers. Please?"

He nodded and they got out. Without asking him, she took his hand in hers. She heard him make a small choking sound and she knew. She had known last night. She had seen him in the room. He had watched her dance. She had seen him watching her, and knew. She felt it, too.

They couldn't talk about it now. Not now. Later. When the voices stopped, when she was done with the insurance thing. When she was free from this craving, free from her marriage. When Mr. Smith let her go. She had always known he would not keep her. Last night had confirmed that. She felt it would be soon. Then she would be able to talk about this. About love. But not now.

"Did you ever find out what happened to that man, the one that attacked me?" she asked, diverting the conversation to another area.

"Lewis? Yeah. He got depressed and drunk, went home and committed suicide. Can't say as I feel real sorry for him."

"Did he leave a note?" she asked, her breath held in futile hope. She knew.

"Yeah. Cute one, too."

"Oh God, oh God, oh God," she muttered half to herself, half in prayer. "'Fuck the bitch, Fuck the bank'," she quoted.

"Yeah! Hey, how'd you know?"

"He wrote it in Mr. Smith's office. Just before he killed him."

"No way. I saw him alive, leaving with two guys."

"Vinnie and Max."

"Right. They take a lot of drunks home."

Alex proceeded to tell him what she had observed and overheard that night. How Mr. Smith had gotten him to write down those sentences, dictating them to him. She told about the strong drink and Lewis choking. How the needle had been hidden, first in the bottle of cognac then in his palm. She told about the pat on the back and the injection, the twitch and the rolling eyes.

Alex explained as best she could how the paralytic agent worked, like the drug the Amazon tribes used to kill monkeys. Curare, or something. Lewis couldn't move, but Mr. Smith had known he could hear him. She related how he had told Lewis that they were going to drive him home and close the garage with the car running. She had said Vinnie was wearing gloves.

Alvin walked beside her, silent during her story. He sensed there were things she wasn't telling him, but didn't push her. What she had told him was more than enough for him to think about.

"Miss Alex? The names on the list. The one you showed me."

"Yes. The girls. I hear their voices."

He turned to her, alarmed. He wondered if she was losing it. If so, how much of what she had told him about Lewis' death would hold up?

"I'm not crazy. I don't hear them now. Only when the pendulum swings. I can't help it. I started to talk to them to keep from going crazy. Then, when I was really tired, they started talking back. Hallucinations."

He nodded. He had experience with that.

"Do you know where he sent them? The girls? When he was done with them?"

"Oh, sure."

"Where, Miss Alex? It's very important."

"Nowhere."

"What?"

"Nowhere. They're in the basement. But you won't find them. But that's where he took them." She hesitated, begging him silently to understand. "They told me," she said quietly.

Now he was scared. For Miss Alex. He had hoped to get her out, but if what she said was true, he would never know when Mr. D took her down to the basement. It would happen when he was gone, sent to his own apartment for the night. He was absolutely positive about that.

"Tell me about the girl you knew, Alvin."

The big man closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"We were in high school. Sweethearts, though with the racial differences, we had to be careful. But it was love, or as close as any two hormone-addled kids can get. Her parents disapproved. Hell, my mama disapproved.

"Mama took me down and enlisted me in the army the day I graduated, even though I was only 17. I was just a big skinny kid then, six and half feet and just over 200 pounds. If the Army had known I was going to grow another five inches, they might have not taken me. You could say I was a late bloomer.

"The day I left for boot camp was the last time I saw Terry. I drove by her house to say 'good-bye.' Her father met me at the door with a rifle. I saw her on the steps behind him. She had been crying.

"They liked me in the Army. Even though I got too big for Special Forces, they made an exception. I had passed all the intelligence tests with the highest marks they had seen." He blushed, not wanting to brag. "I was too late for 'Nam, but the older guys, the officers, opened up to me. They told me what had happened to them in captivity, to their buddies. You've gone through a lot of that here, Miss Alex.

"My squad's first mission was in Africa. I can't tell you where, but we weren't supposed to be there. I was the only survivor, and it took a long time for them to get me out. I lived in the jungle for months. I killed a lot of people, Miss Alex.

"When I got back home on leave, I found out what had happened to Terry. Her father had sent her off to a private college. Some ritzy girl's school back East. Terry was the kindest, sweetest person I had ever known. She was still a virgin the last time I saw her, but her father would never have believed us if we had tried to tell him that.

"She got hooked up with some rich kid her first semester there. He got her hooked on cocaine first, then some other shit. I know she would never have taken any dope if she knew what it was he was giving her. He got her drunk at a party, then held the straw up to her nose, four other people holding her down while she took her first snorts. After that, it was easier, though she still fought him. He kept her high for a week, day and night. Then he fucked her. Then he dumped her.

"I suppose I should tell you that I learned all this stuff using some interrogation techniques I learned in Special Forces. Well, they were unofficial, sort of, but effective. There aren't any witnesses left behind, if it's done right. The last thing the rich kid who did this to her told me was that he had just done it for kicks. Then he laughed. He died a long time later. He wasn't laughing then.

"Terry was high when the police came and arrested her. She had shoplifted some jewelry and hocked it for a fix. They took her to a local precinct. This fancy lawyer shows up. She thought her father had found out and sent him, so she went with him but the guy takes her here, to this city. She was set up. She was out of State and a fugitive. The perfect victim for Mr. D. Alone, scared and beautiful, she would have fallen right in. No offense, Miss Alex.