Dear Miranda. I got up from the couch, too, and walked over to my friend and hugged her tightly. Youre one of the hardest people to call, but youre one of the hardest to call! Youre the only person I know whos catchy, vibrant, and spitting your own originality. To me you are special, you are a person, just not fully disclosed. Thats your mystery. Many people underestimate your talent, creating things even more fascinating than others. Personally, I appreciate that about you! Seriously. From time to time I think your energy is enough to light up an entire major city for a couple of years to come. I opened my arms and looked into Mirandas face. And you know, Im sad to hear you say something like that. It turns out that I, too, am a grayish mediocrity who makes other peoples wishes come true.
Sorry.
Its okay, its better to call things by their proper names.
You know what I wanted to say.
Naturally! Weve known each other for years. So Miranda, I will say this, not because Im your friend and someone close to you, but as a casual observer. Youre an excellent photographer who makes amazing things out of the ordinary, like this table or I spread my hands so that my friend knows what Im talking about at this moment or this teapot! You have everything you need. Oh, no, wait, you dont. You have no patience.
Hey!
But thats just the way it is.
Miranda strode over to her own bag, still on the floor, and scratched her head cheerfully and smirked.
Are you sure?
Completely.
Do I have to break my own word of honor again?
If it makes you feel any better, I havent taken your «honest» words seriously for a long time.
Miranda blinked her green eyes in surprise.
And for how long?
Since the day you swore not to eat any more meat.
That was eight years ago and my friend only lasted a week without him.
So long ago!? Eh, not mind-boggling then!
My voice cracked a little when I said:
Now I hope you wont just give up on what you really love. So pick up your bag and keep working the way you always have.
Youre right. Ive been through so much for this, I cant just give up.
I turned my back to Miranda so she wouldnt see the tears coming, and quickly wiped them away, sat down on the couch, and turned on the TV. My friend picked up her bag and put it in the hall closet and joined me. Some kind of cooking show was on, but I hardly listened to anything they were saying.
«Mike, my sweet Mike! Ill never forget you!»
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 oclock 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 oclock.
«Im 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 wont 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.
Im 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 isnt there?
No, thats 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?
Thats right.
Fine, have it your way. I took the envelope and put it back in my purse. What am I supposed to do?
Its 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 didnt get it? I mean, arent 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 dont like to repeat myself twice, Miss Spikes.
That means you wont 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, maam.
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 didnt want to be indebted to him.
I agree. But if I cant fulfill your request
Nothing Ms. Spikes. Im sure that for you specifically, it will work out even better than it did for these same detectives.
I wouldnt be so sure.
And for nothing.
His words got me thinking.
Who is this person Im supposed to find?
You know, that weird motif that plays in the movies when there is a moment of unraveling the mystery. So thats what Im experiencing at the moment.
Mike Norland.
Chapter 9
If this is your idea of a joke, Mr. Moreau, I can assure you that its not funny at all.
«Absurd! Some kind of madhouse! It cant be!»
The usual pain cramped my whole body at the mere mention of Mike. I couldnt get enough air, as if someone had cut off the oxygen. I didnt 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 dont know. But Im 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.
Dont tell me what to do. Let me go!
Only when youve relaxed and listened to what I have to say to you.
Good Great!
He let me go, and I sat in my seat.
Its a matter of principle, Miss Spikes. I wouldnt have approached you otherwise.
I wanted to laugh in his face so he could see how absurd those words sounded.
Yes, its the most important thing of all! And I was puzzled why you didnt go to a private detective agency. And thats 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.
Thats what I thought too. But Mr. Norland is alive, and I can assure you he doesnt have a scratch on him.
He must have been mocking me. How else could I show him that I didnt 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! Hes gone! I was at the lineup and his funeral. I saw him! I saw his bloody face. And you! Youre telling me at this moment that hes 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 dont!»
What for?
My voice trembled.
Then Ms. Spikes that I need to find it as quickly as possible.
I I dont 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 didnt just trick you, and believe me, thats just the tip of what hes done. Youre the only person he trusted, which is why I came to you for help.
Its 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 wouldnt 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? Whats he got to do with it?
Theres no proof yet, but I think there will be soon. Your father may very well have helped Mr. Norland to fake his death. Its a theory so far, but it makes a lot of sense.
No, my father What? Hes obviously not the best father in the world, but he wouldnt do that to me.
Mr. Moreau pulled out a small envelope from an inside pocket and handed it to me.
Thats 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 dont 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 Mikes smiling face again, and it ached in my chest.
«Hes 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 Im not sure. What did he do for you anyway?
A better question is, what didnt he do!?
It was so different from the Mike Id known. Was I really so blinded by love that I couldnt see what was going on behind my back?
Look, I find it hard to believe that any of this is true. So lets 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 fathers.
I was amazed at the similar news. Oh, my God! Mikes a crook.
This is abracadabra!
As unfortunate as it sounds. It makes no sense for me to lie for you, Miss Spikes.
Thats true! But how could an employee of a construction company have appropriated for himself the documents of my fathers medical research company?
Its simple. Mr. Norland had you! Its not the first time hes 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 Id like to get back for myself. And I hope you can help me with that.
I watched the expression on my rescuers 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.
Ill 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.
Theres a great line from a song: «Fate has turned back on me. So thats 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.