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Sophie had wrestled with the corpse enough to roll it up in the rug rather than just cover it. There was something ridiculously cliched about that, but I had to admit it would work better than a lot of alternatives. The stiffness of the rug would keep it from sagging or folding into the telltale profile of a body, and its thickness wouldn’t be likely to leak fluids.
I found Sophie in the kitchen sitting in a chair at our one remaining table. I went to the oven to make some coffee, more to cover the smell than anything else. As a peace offering, I offered her a cup when it was finished. She took it, fatigue around her eyes and gratitude in her smile. We sat at the table, drinking coffee and not saying anything as the sun went down.
When the last of the orange glow peeked through the slats of the kitchen windows, banding across my eyes, I stood up. “I’ll need to wait for the car outside,” I said, hoping the driver wouldn’t call the phone when he arrived. “When I see it, I’ll come up. I’ll need your help moving him.” I hooked a thumb at the other room, indicating the body through the wall. “Wear something so your face is hard to see. It could be one of Mitnick’s men from the party.”
Sophie nodded, this last piece of information causing her normally sunny face to cloud with new concerns. She didn’t say anything, though, and I left.
I took the elevator down to the lobby. Once there I searched for the ‘hors d’usage’ sandwich board that I figured the superintendent’s lazy drunkenness wouldn’t have taken far. I was right in that, the yellow plastic sign leaned up against the elevator’s outer wall. I hit the elevator’s ‘Stop’ switch, pleasantly surprised that the usual buzzing alarm didn’t sound. I set the sign in front of the lift and headed out back.
The rear of the tenement was much the same as the back of most buildings in the tightly packed city. Even this far out beyond the periphérique space was at enough of a premium that little of it was wasted, so the rear of the building was backed up against another tenement, leaving only a small, utilitarian strip in between them. The main difference between here and most of Old Town’s back alleys was those came to dead ends, but here it connected two streets, making it easier for people to see the things that alleys were meant to keep hidden. The dumpsters were tagged with the graffiti that was standard for this banlieue. A soccer ball and makeshift goal suggested that the space was also used for as an impromptu play space.
I sat down on the tenement’s back steps to wait. I tried to pass the time by being grateful that at least it wasn’t raining.
When full dark came down in the alley I wasn’t surprised to learn that none of the exterior lights worked. I sat immobile, the occasional rat and a small band of teens the only things that moved through the alley. I don’t think either of them noticed me.
It was the only car to turn down the alley, headlights cutting bright holes through the darkness, illuminating the trash and dirty brickwork. I stood up, letting the driver see me, an American sentry waiting for their arrival. The car crept towards me, carefully guided through the narrow passage.
Like a black dorsal fin cutting through the dark, its approach left me with the paralyzing struggle of what to do next. I managed the smart thing and just stood there. The car was an early 21st century Lexus, something from before the financial crisis. I breathed a sigh of relief at seeing it was a sedan big enough for four or five adults and with a trunk for a sixth.
The car pulled up next to me and the window went down with an electric whir. I leaned down to peer inside and clenched my jaw at making eye contact with Ears. The Russian was sober this time with one of his star tattoos poking out from underneath the collar of his black shirt. I stiffened, feeling my back cinch with dread, leaving me bent and giving him plenty of time to take a good look at me.
He stared with hard, inscrutable eyes and asked, “American?”
To read the next chapter, go here.
To read the previous chapter, go here
See author’s published work here.
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