Chapter XXXVII
Ma ad un tratto
Il bimbo trema
Dalla paura
Freddo si fa
But suddenly
The boy trembles
With Fear
It gets cold
London, England
Only two days after Heidi gave birth, Alex drove back to London to honour the promise she made to Sanjay and attend the fundraising Gala. Had it not been for Sanjay and the respect she had for him, there would have been nothing that could have made her leave Heidi and her newborn daughter.
"After the ball, I have three days left on my schedule before I'm officially on vacation. Then I'll come back here and stay for two weeks to help you out with the baby," Alex had told Heidi.
"Don't worry so much about me. I have Philip's parents to help me out too. Phyllis and I are going to be just fine. Besides, if there's one thing I know about, it's looking after babies."
"I know, I know," she'd acknowledged. "But the first few weeks are so rough…you're going to be so sleep deprived."
"I'll just pretend I'm you for a while. Would you go already? Make sure you take some pictures for me, I want to see what you look like in an evening gown."
Alex remembered Heidi's words when she realized she didn't have an evening gown in her closet. It wasn't exactly something she had thought to bring along when she made her decision to flee to London, almost eight months ago. So on her way back to London, Alex made a stop on Bond Street, in an effort to find a suitable dress to wear for the gala.
Now, as she examined her reflection in the mirror, she had to admit, in spite of her haste in choosing it, the dress was beautiful. It was layered in smooth, black silk, with slivers of deep red strands, the colour of wine, intertwining themselves in the fabric. Exquisitely cut; the designer dress hugged her waist as though it was tailor made. Tiny sequins ran along the sides as though they were drops of diamonds, in a sea of black silk.
Alex bent down to fasten the thin straps on her heels, when she heard the doorbell ring. She knew Sanjay and his wife were going to pick her up, but according to her watch, they were more than an hour early.
She opened the door when she saw Sanjay outside. "You're early. I'm not ready yet," she told him, pointing at her watch.
He smiled, obviously pleased with what he saw. "I figured as much. My wife had an idea, actually. She wanted to help you get ready. You know, hair and make-up… that stuff."
"Sanjay…I've never even met your wife. She's a doctor, isn't she? Not a hairdresser!"
He laughed, "Yes, that she is, but she also does this for our daughters. You're one of only two members of my department who have been chosen tonight, Alexandra. I want you to look stunning. To bring in the highest bid of the evening."
"Come on Sanjay, I'm not in the mood for this. I can't ask your wife to fix my hair...it's...it's crazy! If you insist, there's a salon a few minutes from here. If I bribe them I can probably get them to take me right away."
"This wasn't my idea, it was my wife's. My wife loves to do this. And, not to rush you or anything, but I am illegally parked."
Alex shook her head in disbelief, grabbing her purse and keys as she did. "You're unbelievable."
He smiled as he opened the door for her, "Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment."
Le Meridien Waldorf Hotel, London
Two hours earlier
In theory, a phone call to his wife shouldn't have required quite so much nerve. One thing thing they never lacked was the ability to talk to each other. About everything and anything. They were friends before they were lovers. But in reality so much had changed now. Each time Dimitri picked up his cell to call her he couldn't bring himself to finish dialling the number.
It wasn't just a phone call, he reminded himself. It was meant to be a new beginning. An apology for all the things he hadn't said and hadn't done in the last few months. A plea, that maybe they still stood a chance after all. A need to let her know that he couldn't imagine his life if they didn't.
In the end, he decided it wasn't the kind of conversation he wanted to have over the phone. He stopped by her flat twice, only to find that she wasn't there.
Now he was on his way to the hotel Concierge for directions to St.Bart's on the off chance that he might catch her there. He knew London well, but not nearly as well as he did New York or Budapest.
"I know it's not far from here," he told the Concierge, "My wife works there as a doctor."
The Concierge smiled, "Is she being auctioned off tonight then?"
Dimitri gave the man a puzzled look. "Pardon me?"
"It's the night of St. Bart's Fundraising Ball. It's a huge annual event," he explained. "The hospital auctions off its staff for a dinner and dance. Last year a certain Duchess paid a record three million Pound for the Director of Cardiology."
"Is it... possible to get tickets for this event?"
The Concierge looked at him as though he had asked for the moon on a silver platter, "I'm sorry, Mr. Marick but it's probably one of the most exclusive events in London's social circuit. It's easier for me to procure you front row tickets to Wimbledon. The problem with the St. Bart's Ball is that it's by invitation only. It's considered a bit of an honour to be invited, as it's a reflection of the person's generosity. "
"But you have contacts, right? Brokers, scalpers that kind of thing?"
"If there were tickets for sale, then yes, but unfortunately that's not the case. But, if I may ask, you mentioned your wife is a doctor there? If so, she'll automatically be able to attend with a guest."
"I…I haven't seen my wife in a long time," he tried to explain. "Please, will you look into it for me? You have my credit card on file. "
"I'll see what I can do Mr. Marick."
Singh Residence, London
Alex stepped up to the door nervously when a woman in her mid-fifties opened it. She had a wide smile that was identical to Sanjay's.
Alex held out her hand, "Dr. Singh, it's a pleasure to meet you."
The woman laughed, "Surely you don't call my husband Dr. Singh? My name is Monica and the pleasure is all mine. I've been pestering my husband to bring you over for months now."
"But not to do my hair, I imagine."
Monica laughed, "If that's what it takes to pick your brain."
Alex smirked, "I feel so used."
There was a genuine warmth about Sanjay's wife that made Alex feel instantly at ease. She spotted a girl watching television in the living room, "That's my youngest daughter, Kavita," Monica told her. "She'll be staying home tonight with her sister, Dani. Our other girls are away at school. Sanjita, our eldest, is studying mechanical engineering at Oxford."
Sanjay kissed his wife, "I'll be getting ready upstairs. By the way, Alex already knows what all the girls are studying. I'm sure I mentioned it once or twice."
Monica took Alex's hand and led her into the living room. She wore a dazzling gold, red and green coloured sari, with matching jewellery. All of which perfectly accented her exotic beauty.
She gestured for Alex to sit down in front of an antique vanity with a large, oval mirror. "Sanjay has told me many times that you're an amazing physician but he's never mentioned how beautiful you are."
The comment made Alex blush. It seemed like such a long time since she had made an effort to look good. "To tell you the truth, I haven't really cared lately what I look like…"
"Sanjay also told me about your son. I'm very sorry."
Alex nodded. "Thank you." She still didn't trust her emotions to say anything else on that topic.
Monica must have sensed it and changed the subject, "I'd like to do with your hair what I once did with my daughter, Praveena for her graduation. You have the same, thick beautiful hair that she does. But instead of weaving strands of rubies into it, I'm going to use garnet for you, to match the burgundy in your dress." She smiled at Alex, "You're lucky, I was born in January, so I have lots of garnet jewellery to choose from."
An hour later, Alex marveled at the expertly made up reflection that stared back at her in the mirror. For the first time in a long time, she did feel beautiful.
If you saw me now, would you come back to me?
It was an irrational thought and Alex chided herself as soon as she thought it. 'Dimitri left because of Max, not because he fell out of love with you…'
She gave Monica a pleased smile, "Sanjay was right you're very good at this."
"Five girls, Alex…I saved a lot of money on hairdressers."
Sanjay came down the stairs wearing a black tuxedo, holding an opened bow tie in his hand, "Sweetheart, I think I'll need your help…" He stopped in mid-sentence when he saw Alex, "Oh my...I knew bringing you here was the right decision. You look incredible, Alexandra." He grinned. "I think, we're going to get the highest bid tonight."
Alex glanced at Monica, "You'll have to thank your wife."
Monica grinned at Alex, as she fixed Sanjay's bow tie, "Making you look gorgeous was easy."
Sanjay looked at the clock in the hallway, "Ladies...as much as I'd like to spend the rest of the evening with just the two of you, we do have a Gala to attend."
Le Meridien Waldorf Hotel, London
The Concierge called out to Dimitri as soon as he made his way back into the lobby of the hotel.
"Mr. Marick, you're not going to believe our good fortune! One of our regulars had a ticket to the Gala tonight and had to leave London unexpectedly due to a family emergency. He gave me his ticket and asked me if I could find someone who would like to attend in his..."
"I'll take it!" Dimitri's eyes lit up, "What do I owe you?"
The Concierge handed him the envelope with a satisfied smile. It was sealed with red wax. "Oh, no, there's no charge. Mr. Norton already made the requested donation, he simply wanted me to find someone who would able to attend in his place. Naturally I thought of you..."
Dimitri took the envelope from the Concierge, marvelling at his good luck. He took it as sign that he was meant to go. Alex would be there. He had no doubts. He pulled out a fifty dollar bill from his wallet, "This is for you."
The Concierge raised his hand to decline, "That's not nec..."
Dimitri grinned, and pressed the bill into his hand. "Sure it is."
It was definitely a sign, he decided. Things had to get better from here on.
Antwerp, Belgium
Cesar Faison was having a bad day.
Earlier he had heard news of the death of one of his agents in Colombia. The man's assignment to infiltrate a drug cartel had ended with a point blank gunshot wound to the head, in an inner city alley.
Faison couldn't have cared less for the agent himself. What he did care about was the loss of a lucrative contract from the cartel that rivalled the one his agent was to have infiltrated. He would have to offer them a complimentary operative now to prevent them from going to another outfit. Outfits such as Nigel Hawthrop's 'Brynn Wydd,' whose agents were fast gaining the reputation of being the best in the underground market and whose services now expanded into corporate espionage.
As if this unfortunate turn of events wasn't enough to ruin his day, that same afternoon a young jewel fence had made the unfortunate error of trying to sell him fake diamonds.
Cesar had come close to killing the young man on the spot. Instead, he had thrown the diamonds into the man's face, "Do you have any idea who you're dealing with? Do I look like an amateur?"
"These are real," the thief had sworn, his face turning a frightened white. "I'll stake my life on it."
"Trust me, that's the last thing you want to do."
"They're...they're Marick diamonds!"
"Get out!" The mere mention of the name had made Cesar's blood boil.
Later on, he had instructed one of his men to teach the young thief a lesson. "Injure him. Badly. Don't kill him, but make sure he knows who blows are coming from."
Now he sat in his flat in Antwerp watching the rain fall outside, nursing a martini.
"A year ago no one would have dared to sell me a handful of fakes," he lamented to Jan, who was reading a newspaper next to him. Both of them were passing time before their next meeting.
Jan barely glanced up, "There's always the possibility that he didn't know."
"They were terrible fakes, Jan. I didn't even have to examine them. The only reason he dared to do what he did was because of what happened seven months ago. Because we lost that damn boy! Word on the street is that I've become incompetent." He put down his martini glass, spitting out the last word with contempt.
"I think you're reading too much into this. No one even remembers what happened in Calais."
"I do. I remember, and I think I've waited long enough."
Jan finally put down his newspaper and met his eyes, "Waited long enough for what?"
"The only reason I agreed to take that boy was because he was the key to connect me to his mother. We both know that Max is most likely dead but Alexandra is still very much alive."
Jan sighed, as if sensing what was coming.
"I know you think you're somehow connected to that woman. But if we make an attempt to kidnap her, it's only going to cause us problems. She's the wife of one of the richest men in the world. Can't we let this one go?"
"Have you ever loved anyone?" Faison asked him with a frown. "Anna Devane was the only woman I've ever loved,Jan. The only person in this world for whom I would have laid down my life."
"I understand that," Jan tried to reason, with a certain diplomacy. "Bu this woman is not Anna."
"She's her identical twin!" Faison countered. "I need to see how much like Anna she really is. I want to hold her in my arms...to see, to feel..." He stopped mid-sentence. He couldn't possibly explain the extent of his need to his assistant. "If I can convince her that we've got Max, she'll come to me willingly."
"If you go up to this woman and tell her you've got Max, she'll run off to the police, that's what she'll do."
"Not if I convince her that's not in Max's best interests..."
Jan shook his head resignedly. "Sir, you know I have nothing but the utmost respect for you, but I'm afraid that your ability to think clearly always suffers when you're under the influence of Anna Devane...or in this case, Alexandra Marick."
"Contrary to the word on the street, I'm not a fool," he replied, as he picked up a black address book. He found the phone number he was looking for and dialled it.
"Good afternoon. My name is Dr. Gerard Caisson. I'm a former colleague of Dr. Marick's. Is it possible to speak with her?"
"I'm sorry. Dr. Marick is not currently residing at Wildwind. May I take a message for her?"
Faison paused a moment, "No...no...that's not necessary. If you could just give me her contact number, I would appreciate it."
There was a hesitant silence on the other end. "Sir, I'm not able to do that. But you may reach her at St. Bartholomew's Hospital in London, should you wish to contact her."
"St. Bartholomew's...yes, of course. I'll call the hospital. Thank you very much."
Faison hung up the phone. He smiled his first smile of the day. "She's in London, Jan." His smile broadened. "This is going to be easier than I thought."