Chapter Four

David One week later, my leg was completely back to normal.Thanks to Anya, who never left my side. She helped me in ways I very much am thankful for, and in times most needed. Each morning, I was brought breakfast and fresh bandages. In the afternoon, Anya would go out for a short time and return with something to eat, a movie, or a story to share with me.
Also each day, she would check my messages at the apartment and report them to me. Nicole called each day, sometimes three or four times. She seemed desperate to talk with me, yet it was impossible for her to leave the hospital so early. She would be there another week recovering. It was time, I decided, for me to go to her for a change, even if it meant risking my own safety.

* * *

In the evening's cover, I made my way. Anya had gone out for the night, and, as usual, I knew she would not return 'till late. I wore a raincoat of dark grey to keep myself virtually undistinguishable in the night, its collar pulled up tight about my neck. A khaki widely-brimmed hat hid my eyes, which were cold with pain, worry, frustration, and weariness. It had been four days that I'd found difficulty in sleeping, though the reason to me was hidden.
Inside the hospital building, a nurse asked for my name, to record me as a visitor. I supplied the name "Andrew Johnson" as a light cover of my identity. I was then given Nicole's room number, 2010.
Inside Nicole's room, I found my lover asleep. Her hair wound about her face in soft wisps of gold and I watched as she drew breath. She seemed so peaceful; I did not wish to disturb her. I simply sat at her side and gazed at her face, wondering what kind of person would intentionally hurt her if that was, indeed what had happened. True.I did not necessarily love Nicole, but the thought that when she left my sight could be the last time I looked upon her was unwelcome.
My steps were widely spread as I hurried out of the building, avoiding any person's notice. However, on my way out, I ran into an obstacle. Alex rounded the corner. When he recognized me, he hastened his pace. I had to keep walking, I knew, but certainly had no wish t explain anything to him whatsoever.
"Mr. Marrow? What are you doing here at this hour?"
"Well, sometimes I bring some of my work here to kind of cheer up the patients. They like all the colors.You know?" The lie was the best I could come up with in so short a time after being caught slightly off my guard.
Alex looked remotely suspicious. "Really now? What is done with your work?"
"Some of the nurses volunteer to hang it up around the place where it can be seen."
"Is this some of your work?" He walked up to a random painting hanging in the hall. He seemed to admire it.
"Uh.yeah. That's mine."
"You don't sound too sure of that."
Damn! "I paint so much, it's sometimes difficult to remember what I've done." I lied quickly, something I was good at.
Mr. Velmen frowned. "Now, if this is yours, how come the signature says Thomas Stahller?"
"It does?" It was. "I guess I was mistaken then. But I do believe I've done some similar work."
"I guess you were mistaken. Good night David."
"'Night." I kept right on walking. I still had three floors to descend, after all. Damn observant bastard.

* * *

The phone rang one, and was immediately answered. "911 emergency. Can I help you? Hello?"
A gruff voice spoke on the other line. "My name is Alex Velmen. I'm in the 42nd Street hospital and I've just seen a mister David Marrow. I believe he's wanted for two charges."
"David Marrow?"
"Yes, check your records for theft."
"Oh my god." He'd apparently found my file. "Sir, can you describe this man?"
"I'd say he's five eleven, in his late thirties, early forties. His hair was medium length and brown. I couldn't really see him well, but I'm sure it was him."
The cop sighed over the line. "We'll send someone over to pick him up right away. Do you know what floor he's on?"
"He was going down from the third floor, and I only just saw him a minute ago."
"Thank you sir."
Steven hung up. Grinning, he mused. "You're welcome."

* * *

I stopped dead in my tracks. Shit! David.Alex had called me David. I'd only been introduced by Nicole as Mr. Marrow. He was never told my first name.as far as I was aware. The asshole knew. He had to, about Nicole and me. But how was that possible? Could it be that he and Nicole were just talking about me, discussing my paintings, and Nicole let it slip?
I spun around in distress. Absently, I kicked the nearest thing to me-a wall-with my previously injured leg. Not the best idea.
An alarm sounded; that was it; the cops had been called. Alex had set me up! That was when I panicked. Running on a busted leg is not the easiest thing to do, but that's the one absent-minded thing I did then. I made my way to the emergency staircase and rushed down in haste.to meet Alex.
"Hello, David. How you doin'" At my astonished face he laughed. "Not quite what you expected out of your evening is it now? In fact, I'll even wager that it's quite the opposite."
I shook my head, praying for it all to be a dream. "You don't know a thing about me, Alex. Why are you doing this?"
"Ah, my friend, now that's where you're wrong. I can read you like a book. It's all there, your past, present.and future."
"You should never judge a book by its cover and I am most certainly no exception."
Alex's face distorted into a frown. "The police are coming for you. Death wants you. What will you do now? Run away like a frightened little child? Shudder because the night is dark? It ain't possible. I've seen to that."
"Really? How exactly have you arranged that?"
After a long pause, Alex sighed, smiled a bit, and spoke. "I've given you a way out." His tone was calm, and very serious, but with a hint of something that sounded a little like pride.in himself.
"Which way?"
"You have a quick mind, but you've been outsmarted this time."
"Do you need the 'b' and 'c'?"
The smile lessened. "What?"
It was my turn to grin. "They say genius is being able to get from 'a' to'd' without the 'b' and 'c'. Well?"
Ignoring the question, he hassled on. "Make your choice. Will you be caught by the police, go to prison, and die? Or will you take the way out?" He chose to overlook my inquiry for good.
I looked thoughtful, as though I was considering it. "Bastard." I mumbled. He heard. For that one word, I was tripped, and grunted upon hitting the ground since I'd landed on the wounded leg.
"What happened to your leg?" I was mockingly asked. "You want a way out; you better make a decision now."
"Get me out." I moaned.
Alex took pleasure in tormenting me, didn't he? "I can't hear you." He drew a gun and pointed it at my head. To answer my earlier question.Yes.
"Get me out!" What else could I do? He knew who and what I was. There was nothing else to be said.I'd been found out.