Page 89 of So Close

“Exactly?”

“Yes, verbatim.” His voice is clipped and hard, conveying a dangerous meld of frustration and irritation, impatience and resentment.

My thoughts tumble around what he’s told me. Micro hypodermic injection, public poisoning, sniper marksmen – covert methods of assassination requiring means and specialized training, and unlikely threats coming from street criminals.

“I find it curious for her to suggest such scenarios,” I state honestly because he must be vigilant, something quite difficult to do when love demands that you lower all defences. “I would expect suggestions less aligned with espionage and more with immediacy – knives or handguns, for instance.”

“She’s into spy films,” he says with fond exasperation. He opens his eyes and looks at me, his features softening again. “Bourne, Bond, Jack Ryan … that sort of thing.”

That may be true, but the woman we know as Lily isn’t given to overstatement or theatre. She chooses her words carefully for the greatest impact. I wish I’d been present when she said what she did so that I could’ve heard her voice and read her eyes. Her subterfuge runs deep and has been maintained for the length of her adult life, if not longer. Predicting her intent is impossible, and that’s what makes her especially dangerous.

Mr Black’s slight smile fades. “Why haven’t we figured out where she was holed up? We didn’t find her with a suitcase, so all those clothes she bought must be somewhere.”

“It’s possible she discarded them after wearing them.” I know I haven’t answered his question.

He stares at me.

“Perhaps someone removed her items from wherever she was staying,” I offer, “and the unit is no longer vacant.”

“By a landlord or super,” he prompts, but with a tone of insistence.

“Conceivably.” Or a friend, an accomplice, partner or lover. He knows this; he’s a shrewd man. But obsession grips him. He shut himself off from love and joy for far too long, ending each day and beginning the next with a vision of pain and sorrow hung opposite his bed. The depth of his loneliness and grief left him uniquely susceptible to just the right woman.

Such incendiary chemistry is exceedingly rare. Some couples exchange revealing looks. Others are comfortable with public displays of affection. But couples who radiate erotic chemistry simply by being near one another are few and far between. Gideon Cross and his wife, Eva, are such a pairing, as are Mr Black and Lily. My employer’s consuming lust for his wife is impossible to overlook. She has at least three secret weapons: she makes him laugh and feel loved and happy. He’s completely captivated – one might even say bewitched.

She obfuscates more than she reveals, and Mr Black allows it to gain what he wants most: her. She has all the answers he seeks, yet he waits for her to reveal them in her own time. It’s almost a game between them, the cat and the mouse. To what end?

“She received several packages while you were away. A courier delivered one from a jeweller here in the city. The receipt notes payment by wire transfer.” I deeply regret being the bearer of a succession of pieces of bad news. “There have been no transfers or withdrawals, from any of the accounts, to that vendor or for that amount.”

He’s still for a moment, then startles me with a feral smile that’s all teeth. “She has access to other accounts.” His eyes gleam as he rocks back in his chair. “When the estate attorney told me about the LLC and its assets, it didn’t line up with what little I knew. I suspected there were separate accounts. Lily wouldn’t just hand over keys to the kingdom, even to her husband.”

“I thought it might be a gift,” I posit cautiously. “Like the flowers.”

He waves the suggestion off with a careless wave of his hand. “She would’ve already been in this room telling us about it. No, there’s a war chest out there, Witte, and I’ve finally got her feeling safe enough to reveal it.”

I don’t understand his conclusion or his reaction. The fierce glee. It’s almost like … avarice, which makes no sense. Neither does his trust that she would disclose a gift from Laska when he suspects and knows of innumerable other deceptions on her part.

I’ve been mindful of my role in supporting Mr Black’s introduction to making decisions and assuming command. Tutoring him in all aspects of living among the moneyed elite of this great city is a primary facet of my contract.

Yet I decide at that moment to selectively throttle the flow of information regarding the situation with Lily. After all, another facet of my work is to ensure Mr Black’s safety. I will do so despite him, if necessary.

Straightening in his chair, he starts sifting through the mail. “Keep me informed, Witte.”

“Of course.” I stand, dismissed. “By the way, Mr Landon has made multiple attempts to reach you, including visiting here. When he called me, I suggested he try your mobile, but he said he hasn’t been able to reach you. He sounded quite perturbed and asked about Mrs Black.”

“He’s left me a few voicemails. I knew my mother would approach him eventually, so I didn’t ask her not to. She would’ve reached out to him earlier.” He crumples an invitation to a political fundraising dinner into a ball and tosses it neatly through the basketball hoop over the dustbin. “What did you say?”

“Since it was apparent he hadn’t learned of Mrs Black through you, I avoided confirming or denying anything about her and advised him to direct questions about your personal life to you.”

“You’re the best, Witte. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He exhales harshly and nods. “Keep telling him that for now.”

I don’t know why my employer avoided communicating with his closest friend. Is it because Mr Landon once dated Lily? Is it jealousy or evasion?

“There’s something else …”

“Damn it.” He rocks back in his chair. “Remind me why we left the beach to return to this crap?”

With an arch of my brow, he sighs and looks chastened. I continue. “Ms Erika Ferrari has enquired after you at the lobby desk on two occasions. I asked Julian to inform me if she attempted to contact you at work, and she has, twice.”

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