*****
Helpless Angel
Chapter 7
Crowded
*****
"What did you say?"
There was a frightened hush at the other end of the line. "Gary. Someone strangled him."
"When did this happen?"
"Last night. In P. McCowall's Philharmonic Hall."
"How could someone strangle him - "
"I don't know!" A pause. "Do you think this has to do with the girl we - you know?"
"No, I don't know! And don't even say that four-letter word here!" There was a rustle and he was back on. "Meet me in about fifteen minutes in the café just down the court."
"Now?"
"Now!"
Mark went out of the telephone booth. The café was thankfully only a few blocks away from where he was. He walked warily and nervously. Whenever someone bumped into him he quickly moved away. Finally he found himself walking at the far side of the pavement.
He was being continuously pushed and bumping against people. But he really didn't mind that at all by now. No one can do any harm while surrounded by people. Everyone here would become a witness were that person who did Gary attempted to kill him here. That was a comforting thought.
Mark could see the café now. There was Gideon standing, waiting, restless. Everything would be fine if he talked to Gideon. He always makes sure everything will turn out fine. Hell, he got them out of a possible jail sentence.
Though he probably would never forget the way the girl felt beneath him...
She would have made a good woman for them if she didn't do herself in. She was pretty. Her body was like heaven in his hands, and he had believed that she liked him and his well-endowed member. Why would she scream if she didn't like it? Didn't all women scream when they liked it?
Anyway, Gideon now was beckoning at him to walk faster. He speeded up a little, but found his legs became tired all of a sudden. Wait up, he mouthed at Gideon.
Mark was panting. Gideon saw him bent over and then slowly straightened himself again. "Come on!" Gideon urged him.
"All right," Mark said weakly. Did this guy run all the way to here? He looked rather pale, but he wasn't sweating. Maybe he was freaked out on the fact Gary died.
"Tell me about it," he said when Mark was in front of him. Mark nodded. He looked upward for a moment. His eyes turned up and became whites. Mark let out a groan and slumped forward.
"Hey, man, it's no time to joke around," Gideon said. He had gathered his friend to standing again, but Mark seemed to be made out of jelly. His legs wobbled and he simply couldn't seem to stand anymore. Gideon held Mark's back to steady him. There his hand met something sticky and wet. "Oh shit..."
It was blood. Somewhere a woman started to scream.
"Easiest thing in the world. You stuck a knife in someone's back while walking in a crowd. That fellow would feel like someone had bumped against him, that's all. About four or five steps later he would suddenly fall over and died."
Warren listened to the news, eyes closed leisurely, a smile played lightly on his lips. A coroner was being interviewed about the latest murder that happened in front of a café. It was rush hour; everyone wanted to go home, nobody noticed or saw anything.
"Is there a connection between the murder and the death in the philharmonic hall?" asked the loud reporter, shoving her small recorder to his nose that the coroner had to push it away. Warren's smile widened at that gesture.
"We have no comment at this time - "
The TV clicked off. Warren closed his eyes. In the darkness everything looked the same.
Yes. Everything, everyone looked the same. Especially sinners.
"No one will get away, brown-eyed girl," he said, filling his glass with the same wine he had opened yesterday. It tasted flat.
But his mind said it had gotten sweeter.
___________
Helpless Angel
Chapter 7
Crowded
*****
"What did you say?"
There was a frightened hush at the other end of the line. "Gary. Someone strangled him."
"When did this happen?"
"Last night. In P. McCowall's Philharmonic Hall."
"How could someone strangle him - "
"I don't know!" A pause. "Do you think this has to do with the girl we - you know?"
"No, I don't know! And don't even say that four-letter word here!" There was a rustle and he was back on. "Meet me in about fifteen minutes in the café just down the court."
"Now?"
"Now!"
Mark went out of the telephone booth. The café was thankfully only a few blocks away from where he was. He walked warily and nervously. Whenever someone bumped into him he quickly moved away. Finally he found himself walking at the far side of the pavement.
He was being continuously pushed and bumping against people. But he really didn't mind that at all by now. No one can do any harm while surrounded by people. Everyone here would become a witness were that person who did Gary attempted to kill him here. That was a comforting thought.
Mark could see the café now. There was Gideon standing, waiting, restless. Everything would be fine if he talked to Gideon. He always makes sure everything will turn out fine. Hell, he got them out of a possible jail sentence.
Though he probably would never forget the way the girl felt beneath him...
She would have made a good woman for them if she didn't do herself in. She was pretty. Her body was like heaven in his hands, and he had believed that she liked him and his well-endowed member. Why would she scream if she didn't like it? Didn't all women scream when they liked it?
Anyway, Gideon now was beckoning at him to walk faster. He speeded up a little, but found his legs became tired all of a sudden. Wait up, he mouthed at Gideon.
Mark was panting. Gideon saw him bent over and then slowly straightened himself again. "Come on!" Gideon urged him.
"All right," Mark said weakly. Did this guy run all the way to here? He looked rather pale, but he wasn't sweating. Maybe he was freaked out on the fact Gary died.
"Tell me about it," he said when Mark was in front of him. Mark nodded. He looked upward for a moment. His eyes turned up and became whites. Mark let out a groan and slumped forward.
"Hey, man, it's no time to joke around," Gideon said. He had gathered his friend to standing again, but Mark seemed to be made out of jelly. His legs wobbled and he simply couldn't seem to stand anymore. Gideon held Mark's back to steady him. There his hand met something sticky and wet. "Oh shit..."
It was blood. Somewhere a woman started to scream.
"Easiest thing in the world. You stuck a knife in someone's back while walking in a crowd. That fellow would feel like someone had bumped against him, that's all. About four or five steps later he would suddenly fall over and died."
Warren listened to the news, eyes closed leisurely, a smile played lightly on his lips. A coroner was being interviewed about the latest murder that happened in front of a café. It was rush hour; everyone wanted to go home, nobody noticed or saw anything.
"Is there a connection between the murder and the death in the philharmonic hall?" asked the loud reporter, shoving her small recorder to his nose that the coroner had to push it away. Warren's smile widened at that gesture.
"We have no comment at this time - "
The TV clicked off. Warren closed his eyes. In the darkness everything looked the same.
Yes. Everything, everyone looked the same. Especially sinners.
"No one will get away, brown-eyed girl," he said, filling his glass with the same wine he had opened yesterday. It tasted flat.
But his mind said it had gotten sweeter.
___________