Kitabı oku: «Miranda Sparks’ wonderful life», sayfa 3
Chapter 8
The café across from the huge Global City Business Center was probably the only place that made the best pork cutlets in all of Otawa. It was hours5 of evening, and the sun had already disappeared, leaving behind, bright pink streaks in the sky. It was now drizzling in the afternoon as I left the house. It did not bode well for a sunny day. At two o’clock in the afternoon, as I walked out of the library, I was very much taken aback by this change in the weather. I was halfway to the park when I got a call from Mr. Moreau. The man who had bailed me out at the auction, a little over two weeks later. But my father did not mess around and on the very next day, sent me $500,000, which I was going to give right away, to his savior. We agreed to meet him, in the very same cafe across from Global City.
I decided to get there early to enjoy my favorite cutlets and vegetable salad. Mr. Moreau arrived in his own silver car when it was almost past 10six o’clock.
«I’m here!» – I wanted to yell after he entered the cafe. But the man had already seen me and was heading toward my table with determination.
– Good evening, Mr. Moreau!
I got up from my seat and extended my hand to him, which he immediately shook.
– Hello, Miss Spikes!
My lifeguard now looked rather austere, in a black blue suit, with a single-breasted jacket with two buttons, a snow-white shirt, and a silk gray tie.
A young waiter came up to us and Mr. Moreau ordered just water, thereby causing my stomach to feel uncomfortable after eating the meatballs.
– I won’t beat around the bush. Here are some of the remedies I promised you.
I took an envelope out of my purse and held it out to my savior.
– I’m sorry Ms. Spikes, but I will not accept these remedies.
His cool tone forced me uncertainly to remove my hand from the envelope.
– Is it because the whole amount isn’t there?
– No, that’s not it.
– Then what is it, sir?
The man put his elbows on the table and intertwined his long fingers together as if he were preparing to tell me a terrible secret.
– The thing is, I have a little problem, and to solve it, I need your help, Miss Spikes.
– Quid pro quo? Right?
– That’s right.
– Fine, have it your way. – I took the envelope and put it back in my purse. – What am I supposed to do?
– It’s no big deal. All I need is for you to help me find one person, but without anyone knowing about it.
His words puzzled me.
– You didn’t get it? I mean, aren’t there private detective agencies for that?
– Just answer, «yes» or «no»!
I took a small sip of the dark tea from the cup in front of me and looked at Mr. Moreau in confusion. He coolly removed his hands from the table and leaned back in his chair.
– If I say no, will you take the funds?
We met eye to eye, and I saw how serious it was.
– I don’t like to repeat myself twice, Miss Spikes.
– That means you won’t take it. In other words, if I have no conscience, then I can safely leave you at this moment alone, without funds?
He lit up his cheeks.
– You are free to do whatever you want, ma’am.
– Thanks for that.
I was torn between several thoughts. On the one hand, I could really give up and just dump the man. On the other hand, I had given him my word and kept it, so I could just abandon the funds and walk away with an unharmed conscience. But there was another one, my sincere desire to help him, just as he had once done. After all, I am not required to move mountains!
– Is that it?
I didn’t want to be indebted to him.
– I agree. But if I can’t fulfill your request…
– Nothing Ms. Spikes. I’m sure that for you specifically, it will work out even better than it did for these same detectives.
– I wouldn’t be so sure.
– And for nothing.
His words got me thinking.
– Who is this person I’m supposed to find?
You know, that weird motif that plays in the movies when there is a moment of unraveling the mystery. So that’s what I’m experiencing at the moment.
– Mike Norland.
Chapter 9
– If this is your idea of a joke, Mr. Moreau, I can assure you that it’s not funny at all.
«Absurd! Some kind of madhouse! It can’t be!»
The usual pain cramped my whole body at the mere mention of Mike. I couldn’t get enough air, as if someone had cut off the oxygen. I didn’t see a single tear run down my cheek until it dropped onto my blue turtleneck.
– Do I look like a joker to you, Miss Spikes?
I felt like I was in a «Prankster» program, only that kind of you know, fierce. I could see how serious Mr. Moreau was when he talked about Mike. But how could anyone believe such a thing?
– I don’t know. But I’m not going to listen to this nonsense anymore. – I jumped up from my seat, intent on walking away from the man, but he got up, too, and grabbed my arm. – What?
– Go back to your seat. – Mr. Moreau gave me a stern order as he turned me back to our table.
– Don’t tell me what to do. Let me go!
– Only when you’ve relaxed and listened to what I have to say to you.
– Good… Great!
He let me go, and I sat in my seat.
– It’s a matter of principle, Miss Spikes. I wouldn’t have approached you otherwise.
I wanted to laugh in his face so he could see how absurd those words sounded.
– Yes, it’s the most important thing of all! And I was puzzled why you didn’t go to a private detective agency. And that’s right, who in their right mind would want to find a man who died more than a year4 ago.
Mr. Moreau sucked in a resounding breath.
– That’s what I thought too. But Mr. Norland is alive, and I can assure you he doesn’t have a scratch on him.
He must have been mocking me. How else could I show him that I didn’t like this conversation? Everything that was going on here was starting to piss me off. How could this man claim that Mike was alive when I was looking at his dead body with my own eyes?
– Apparently we are talking about very different people, sir.
– On the contrary, Miss Spikes.
I grabbed my head and said resoundingly:
– This is just absurd. Mike is dead! He’s gone! I was at the lineup and his funeral. I saw him! I saw his bloody face. And you! You’re telling me at this moment that he’s alive!? How can you believe that?
I could have been a little more hysterical, but I held on as best I could. I could feel the nausea coming on. I started to feel feverish and a little shivering. All I wanted was to end it all.
– I can substantiate this for you.
«Please don’t!»
– What for?
My voice trembled.
– Then Ms. Spikes that I need to find it as quickly as possible.
– I… I don’t understand…
When I touched the cup of tea, I almost spilled it on the table. I clenched my body and lowered my eyes, as the treacherous tears were ready to come out.
– Mr. Norland didn’t just trick you, and believe me, that’s just the tip of what he’s done. You’re the only person he trusted, which is why I came to you for help.
– It’s…“ – a tear fell down – „impossible! If… – another one – … he were alive, he would surely find me. We could have been together for the moment. He wouldn’t have stabbed me.
– I know. And yet he did it, Miss Spikes! Two days ago, I made some inquiries about his death, and almost everything cleared up.
I sniffed audibly and looked at Mr. Moreau.
– What specifically?
– About Mr. Norland and your father.
I almost clicked «Absurd!» once again. My rescuer turned out to be a really scary person who knew all my pain points.
– Dad? What’s he got to do with it?
– There’s no proof yet, but I think there will be soon. Your father may very well have helped Mr. Norland to fake his death. It’s a theory so far, but it makes a lot of sense.
– No, my father… What? He’s obviously not the best father in the world, but he wouldn’t do that to me.
Mr. Moreau pulled out a small envelope from an inside pocket and handed it to me.
– That’s all I have so far.
I took the envelope with trembling hands and opened it, pulling out some pictures. It took me a few seconds to recognize Mike. It was him, only he had a small beard and slightly lighter hair than when we were together.
– And what is that?
– Photos taken three days ago.
– Three… days? I don’t get it! Where was it made?
– Egypt. Mr. Norland has been there for a month, maybe more. My man is watching him all the time.
I stared at Mike’s smiling face again, and it ached in my chest.
«He’s alive. Mike is still alive!»
– In other words, do you understand where he is at the moment?
I finally finished sobbing and pulled myself together.
– Yes.
– What am I good for, then, for you?
– Since you are the only one he can believe.
Mr. Moreau loosened the knot of his tie and leaned back in his chair.
– He used to believe, but at this point I’m not sure. What did he do for you anyway?
– A better question is, what didn’t he do!?
It was so different from the Mike I’d known. Was I really so blinded by love that I couldn’t see what was going on behind my back?
– Look, I find it hard to believe that any of this is true. So let’s stop torturing each other and deal with all of this.
– Oh, great. Mr. Norland, has appropriated for himself a significant portion of the assets, from my company and your father’s.
I was amazed at the similar news. Oh, my God! Mike’s a crook.
– This is abracadabra!
– As unfortunate as it sounds. It makes no sense for me to lie for you, Miss Spikes.
– That’s true! But how could an employee of a construction company have appropriated for himself the documents of my father’s medical research company?
– It’s simple. Mr. Norland had you! It’s not the first time he’s tricked his way into these kinds of companies. But your father is not a foolish man. Apparently, he found out about everything and tried to stop Mr. Norland from his plans. But here you are, the only daughter and heiress to a large fortune in the Spikes family. In you he saw his own only chance to get what he wanted and you succumbed to his charms. I have it on good authority that a large sum of money was given by your father to Mr. Norland just before he died. So it could be said that your father was the one who helped him escape. At the moment, Mr. Norland has some papers that I’d like to get back for myself. And I hope you can help me with that.
I watched the expression on my rescuer’s face, but he was too serious for me to think what he said was a lie.
– It seems true, and I wish for you to believe it. So let me think a little, Mr. Moreau.
Exactly for that I need time. I have to digest all the information I have received now, since this request is already personal to me.
– I’ll give you two days, no more. If you decide to assist me in this matter, call me at the number I gave you.
I knew that I would probably spend the next two days crying bitterly in my own bathroom and at the level of my thoughts eating myself up inside.
– X-okay.
– Then I hope to see you soon.
It seemed inevitable by now.
– I… I promise to think hard about it.
Mr. Moreau stood up from the table and with a nod of the head, left the cafe and got into a silver car, disappeared, as if he had never been there at all.
There’s a great line from a song: «Fate has turned back on me. So that’s exactly what I saw. A big ass to my fucking fate, which only pretended to be sick. Although, in fact, I myself was responsible for everything. If it was exactly as Mr. Moreau said, then I was really in deep shit, up to my ears.
If I had an icy heart at the moment, I think even it would have cracked. But Mike and I were not Kai and Gerda to help each other find the happiness that now seemed forever buried in the empty grave that had been meant for my dead boyfriend. I felt so fucked up that I would have liked to drink myself to death and forget myself somewhere where no one knew me.
Wow, what a week it’s been! How about a little fun?
Chapter 10
At one time, everyone really thought I was a rich bitch. I spent a lot of money on clothes and parties, went out with bad guys, and went to villas in other countries. I liked that kind of life and didn’t care about anyone else. Everyone at school was scared of me and immediately admired me. I even claimed the prom queen crown, but never made it to the prom. No matter what you say, I certainly didn’t pull off the title of Cinderella.
In the ’90s, my father’s company was one of America’s top medical equipment companies, so everyone in town knew our family by sight. My ancestors were honored and loved, while I earned the status of an obnoxious girl by getting into fights at school.
But no matter how bad I seemed, I still managed to be the first in my progress among the school’s honors students. I was taken to various Olympiads and competitions, where I took, if not first, then at least second place. And after that I would come home with loud cries for my dad to see me and tell me that I was good. But my father for all this, there was not enough time. And if I did show him my awards, he still said it wasn’t enough. I was not beautiful, educated and smart enough for him from birth. My father kept repeating that he needed a child, his only heir. But my mother was never able to give him one. That’s why I was picked on so much. Naturally, my father adored me, but not with the love I would have wished for. From time to time, when he was making important deals for his company, I managed to get a piece of his love for me. Whether it was a firm hug or words of praise for me. Still, it wasn’t enough for me.
Maybe it had something to do with my relationships with guys. But every time, I dumped them after 3 sacred words. I wasn’t hurt, and I didn’t feel bad after the breakup. I basically went on with my life like nothing ever happened. My exes were very angry and many of them even threatened to execute me so that I would go back to them. But I didn’t go back, I started dating another guy from our school. I always did that until I met Mike Norland, my one and only love. I gave my whole self without reserve to that relationship. I thought I’d lost him forever, and it turned out he was the one who left me for fucking money. And I’ll tell you this: «Being abandoned is even worse for me than losing my lover forever.
I don’t know why, but I believed what Mr. Moreau said. Even though I was still having a hard time accepting all the information about Mike, I still dared to find out the truth, whatever it was. I was still in pain. I’m very weak emotionally. My heart is not giving me peace and it’s already very lingering. It’s time to live a normal life after all, but only after I’ve figured it all out.
Yesterday I had the courage to call Mr. Moreau to tell him that I would help him. I had to lie to Miranda and my dad about sending me on a business trip.
– Just think, web designers also have business trips! – And what are you going to do there, in Algeria? Create a virtual panel?
– No, I’m peeing for a seminar.
– Seminar? Can I go with you?
I panicked at the time, and maybe that would have given me away, but I pulled myself together and paid her off with an oath to bring her whatever she wanted. Miranda, of course, took my words very seriously and wrote me a big list of things I just had to bring her from there. At this point this list was in a notebook, folded in two, in my bag on my lap. I was told that the main cover would be a small event, for programmers and information technology professionals. So that neither my father nor even Mike could figure out what the hell I was doing in Algeria.
Upon arrival, a bus picked me and a couple of other people up, and the impromptu forum participants were taken to a four-star hotel in the heart of the capital. I was put up in a single room, more like a spacious living room, in one of my father’s houses. That’s a lot of room for me alone and lonely.
It was mind-boggling, but I didn’t feel like sobbing, and I didn’t feel the usual pain in my chest the whole time. I sat up, thought about Mike, and, feeling nothing but the urge to eat something, got up and took a shower.
The lovely and smiling Frances Gilmore, who was both our tour guide and local entertainment host for the duration of our stay, came to pick me up at 1 p.m. local time. Our entire group was gathered in the hotel restaurant to be fed various delicacies. I was the only one of the group who was quiet and relaxed. Even the process of eating an apple dragged on for a full minute.20
During the meal, I was able to get to know all the members of the forum. So sitting next to me at lunch was Catherine Blanc, an employee of a big computer company called Molose Corporations. She and her roommate, Bill Davis, were working together on IT technology, which they were arguing about with Martin Hall, the young kid sitting across from me. Sitting next to Martin was Scotty Young, a prominent programmer and online gaming enthusiast. He had Wright Walker and Lizzie Brooks in his chat room, who also happened to be specific players. Gary and Diane Hughes, a domestic couple, were also present, and they sat together, occasionally asking each other things while they stuffed their bellies. And finally Eric Russell, a handsome blond man with a regular American grin and two30 teeth. Eric reeked of his stifling toilet water from a meter away, and I had to turn away from him to Catherine as he sat, to my left.
– Francis, do you know where I can buy a month’s worth of decorations? These. – Asked Miss Gilmore, Diana pointed to her own phone.
– Honey, why ask the tour guide about it?
– Since she must know all the local markets. Jamie asked me to bring her crescent-shaped earrings. So if you have any ideas on how to find them more quickly, I’m all ears. – Gary was expressively silent in response. – Which was a good point.
– You might find them at the local flea market, Mrs. Hughes. We’ll be there tomorrow afternoon.
I thought about our whole itinerary and began to think about how to find Mike in a town like this. In that case, Mr. Moreau gave me the number of a certain Señor Francisco Salido del Pozo. He worked as a private detective and knew where my beloved was at the moment.
– Violet! Isn’t that your name?
We were sitting on a bus going to another hotel where a seminar was to be held when Mr. Russell sat down with me.
– That’s exactly right.
– And I’m Eric.
We shook hands, and I turned away from him immediately. I’d have to tell the man not to choke so much.
– It’s a beautiful city, isn’t it?
– Uh-huh.
– I have been here so many times, but its beauty still fascinates me.
I pretended to be drowsy from the traffic on the bus, and apparently Mr. Russell saw that, so he finished talking to me. The whole time we were driving, the smell of his toilet water kept me from enjoying the ride.
The impressive size of the lobby of the five-star Olympic Plaza Hotel was a sight to behold. It was like entering the palace of a sheikh himself. It was picturesque, bright and tasteful, all done in the best traditions of a prestigious hotel. As I walked across the shiny marble floor, my sandals slid gently but made no sound. People were arriving, checking in, and just strolling through the spacious hotel lobby. Life was buzzing everywhere, discussions in various languages, and it was easy to tell the difference between a guest in a regular room and one in a suite. In all this mass, Mr. Russell somehow managed to find me and followed me like a little dog.
– Miss Spikes, this way.
I had just managed to get rid of Eric when Frances called out to me, pointing to a bulky door, behind which was a small conference room with a shield, a projector, and several chairs upholstered in reddish velvet.
– Position yourself in a way that is comfortable for you.
While everyone was taking their seats, I approached our guide.
– Francis, excuse me, but can I step outside for a minute, I need to make one principle call?
– Yes, of course. The seminar doesn’t start for another half hour, so you can go about your business in the meantime. If there’s anything else you need, come to me right away. I’ll be sitting in that corner over there.
We both looked at the last row.
– Thank you.
– You’re welcome.
I found Señor del Pozo’s number in my phone book rather quickly, and immediately dialed it.
– Hello? – After a short ringing tone, I said. – Is this Senor Francisco Salido del Pozo?
– Señorita Violet?
The detective’s voice had a pleasant accent that swallowed some consonants.
– That’s me!
– Monsieur Moreau told me about your trip to Algeria. Where are you at the moment?
Señor del Pozo referred to Mr. Moreau in the French manner because he was, in fact, a native Frenchman.
– I’m at the Olympic Plaza.
– Where?
Apparently he didn’t hear me, so I said it louder:
– At the five-star Olympic Plaza Hotel.
A small silence ensued.
– Mr. Norland is at this particular hotel at the moment, senora.
My heart was beating at a frantic pace.
– Where exactly? Can you tell me?
I looked around to see Mike at last.
– He’s currently on the 46th floor.
It’s going to be very hard, kind of an accident to be there.
– What about you? Where are you at the moment?
– I am currently in room 303 in the same hotel.
– Then, may I come up to see you, Señor del Pozo?
Once again, a short-lived silence.
– Si, senora, you can.
– In that case, I’ll be with you shortly.
I reset the call and walked to the elevator, not understanding why my hands and feet were shaking so much. I heard the sound of the elevator arriving, and when its doors opened, I stepped in with the other people and pressed the third floor.
«Welcome to the operation Miss Spikes!»
