Forever (89 page)

Click.

Suddenly silence: now she could only hear
the distant sounds of normalcy, of life going on as usual. The
faint hissing of car tyres on the avenida below. The muted crashing
of the surf. The cries and laughter of children playing volleyball
on the beach across the street. And fear. The pounding of her
heartbeat, the jackhammering of her pulse: above all, she could
hear her own fear. Smell her own fear.

And then that feeling: I'm being
watched\

The hairs on the nape of her neck and on her
arms tingled and rose. She went rigid; her listening sharpened,
filtering out the noise background of cars and surf and laughter.
I'm not alone,

I'm not. . . me and poor dead Waldo and . .
. who else? What else? Cautiously, slowly, her terrorised eyes
searched the thickets of foliage all around, the
bougainvillaea-clad windscreens at either end of the terrace, the
purplish-black shadows, the stepped-back terrace above . . .

. . . nothing.

And yet her hairs and gooseflesh continued
to rise and ripple and warn of danger.

She thought: I'm forgetting something . . .
something important I should be remembering . . .

What is it I'm forgetting?

Fronds rustled behind her, whispered in the
air. Shadows quivered, stretched -

She whirled around, holding her breath.

It was only the ocean breeze. Only the wind
. . .

Beyond the parapet, the deep-blue Atlantic
filled her vision, stretched away to infinity until it became an
indistinguishable haze where water met sky.

And then something flickered in her mind.
Something about . . .

-and then it hit her with numbing force -
Colonel Valerio's taunt - and her heart lurched. Sweat seeped from
under her armpits, beaded on her forehead, prickled down along her
spine.

. . . You're dead meat anyway. They've hired
a professional assassin to get you ... the same one I got to lay
those explosives in your dead grandpappy's apartment. . .

The memory of those terrible words exploded
in her brain, sent her mind whirling. Instantly, she thought of
Pham, Vinette Jones, Aaron Kleinfelder and -

God no! Nonononono -

-Astrid Bezerra!

The realisation slammed her like a physical
blow. She could hear the strident sob rise within her. How foolish
could she have been, dismissing Astrid's murder as the act of an
anonymous thief!

Why didn't I realise it sooner? Astrid's
murder was just another link in the long chain of violence which
stretched back to Grandpa's death!

There was a menacing air of claustrophobia
about the terrace now, the sense of being trapped in a cage.

Get out of here!

Runrunrunrunrun!

She forced herself to think clearly. No. She
must not run. She must use the telephone! Yes! She must call the
police. Now she

turned and ran, blundering through the
potted jungle, slipping on the terracotta tiles, fighting her way
through the billowing curtains which impeded her like gossamer
ghosts. Wrenched them aside -

There! The extension phone on the end table!
She lunged at it, snatched the receiver, banged it against her
ear.

What . . .?

No dial tone?

Desperately she tapped the cradle with her
fingers. Still no sound! A high-pitched chirrup rose from her
throat. Oh, God! Dead! The line was dead!

She pressed the receiver to her breast. Now
what?

A chime rang, pierced through her like an
electric shock. The doorbell! Oh, God! She made a faint mewling
sound, dropped the receiver, looked around in panic. He's here! The
assassin's here! He's coming to kill me!

'Girl!'

Stephanie whirled around, her heart soaring
at the familiar voice. It was Barbie, her one and only friend,
coming down the spiral stairs. The rush of relief enveloped her in
a torrent.

'Oh, Barbie!' Stephanie sobbed. 'Oh, thank
God! Am I glad to see you!'

'What's the matter?' She frowned at
Stephanie and touched her face. 'Why, you're as pale as a ghost!
And you're shaking all over!'

Stephanie nodded. 'Someone . . . someone's
trying to kill me -'

Barbie's voice was calm. 'Now, why would
anybody want to do something like that? Nice lady like you -'

The doorbell chimed again, and Stephanie's
entire body jerked convulsively at the sound.

'You expecting someone?' Barbie looked at
her questioningly and started towards the foyer.

Wo/' Stephanie screamed. She grabbed Barbie
by the arm and yanked her back. 'Don't let him in! Don't!'

The doorbell kept ringing, long and short
two-tone bursts of sound.

'What am I going to do?' Stephanie moaned.
'I've got to get out of here! And there's only the front door!'

'I know!' Barbie said. 'There's always the
terrace of the building next door! The only thing separating it
from this one is the windscreen. There's a ledge we can use to step
around it.' Barbie took her by the hand and pulled her back outside
to the terrace. 'Now, just be nice and calm,' she advised. 'No
one's

going to hurt you while I'm here. They'd
have to deal with me first, and me, I'm one tough cookie!'

Barbie's soothing voice worked its magic and
calmed her somewhat. And they could no longer hear the chiming
doorbell and now the pounding of a fist on the door, and the muted
shouts coming from the other side of it.

Stephanie looked gratefully at Barbie. No
one's going to kill me while I'm with her, she thought. Assassins
don't want eyewitnesses.

Barbie hurried her across the terrace to the
opaque windscreen. Bougainvillaea, loaded with cascades of pink and
magenta blossoms, covered it completely.

Barbie showed her the narrow concrete ledge.
'You've only got five feet to go. Now, just hop up there and hold
tight to the windscreen. There's nothing to be afraid of. Just try
not to look down.'

Stephanie eyed the ledge with misgivings. It
suddenly seemed incredibly narrow. That can't be wide enough, she
thought with a sinking feeling. 'I-I can't get up there,' she said
uncertainly. 'It doesn't look safe.'

'Just kick your shoes off,' Barbie said
cheerfully, 'and upsy-daisy.'

Stephanie hesitated, wishing there was some
other way to escape the apartment.

'Hurry up,' Barbie urged, glancing back at
the apartment.

'All right,' Stephanie said hoarsely. She
slipped out of her shoes, took a deep breath to stifle her fears,
and held onto the wobbly frame of the windscreen. Gingerly she
climbed up onto the ledge.

'You're doing fine,' Barbie assured her.
'And you don't need to worry. I'll be right next to you the whole
way.'

Nodding uneasily, Stephanie carefully inched
her way sideways along the ledge. The sounds of traffic coming from
below sounded louder; the ocean wind seemed stronger. She felt cold
and clammy and aware of the twelve storeys which dropped away like
a sheer cliff. Gripping the windscreen and clenching her teeth, she
moved another few inches, and then a few more. Perhaps it's not
that difficult after all, she thought.

The next instant, a chunk of concrete gave
way and she screamed in horror as she dangled twelve storeys in
midair.

THIRTY-ONE

Rio de Janeiro • Stockholm • Paris • Hong
Kong • Frankfurt • Si'tto da Veiga • Grand Cayman • Walnut Creek,
California • New York • Tokyo • London • Las Vegas • Atlantic City
• 77ie Bahamas

'Stephanie?' Eduardo's voice was loud and
sharp. He leaned on the doorbell and kept pounding. 'Stephanie!
Stephanie, open upV

He knew she was in; he'd asked the doorman
when he'd arrived. But she didn't respond to the doorman's call, so
he had let Eduardo go on up, knowing the de Veigas owned the
penthouse. Why isn't she opening upl he wondered. I know she wants
to see me, and she needs her passport. She can't leave the country
without it.

He hammered again. A neighbour, disturbed by
the racket, opened her door, cast him a disapproving look, and
scolded.

Ste. . . pha. . . nie!' He pounded again. 'O
. . . pen up . . !'

Eduardo stopped for a moment, ear to the
door. Listening . . .

Still nothing. He couldn't understand it.
She is expecting me.

He thought, murder, violence, suicide - if,
after all that, somebody hurt Stephanie now, he would never be able
to forgive himself . . .

He was about to ride back down and get the
passkey from the concierge when he thought he heard something. No,
not something -

- screams!

Heedless to the prying neighbour, he put his
ear against the door again and listened. Concentrated fiercely . .
.

They were screams, very faint and distant,
but definitely coming from inside the apartment! Probably from one
of the terraces!

'Call the police!' he shouted in Portuguese
at the inquisitive neighbour. 'And tell them to hurry!' When she
didn't move, he screamed: 'Policial!'

That got her moving. Her head ducked back
inside her apartment; the door slammed.

He backed as far from Stephanie's door as he
could, and with all the speed he could summon, hit it running. The
door shook and creaked under the impact, but held. He repeated the
manoeuvre, ramming it lower.

This time, the lock disintegrated and wood
splintered; the door crashed open against the wall, and a
cross-draught pungent with sea air swept out into the hall. Carried
along by the momentum, Eduardo hit the floor, rolled over, and
scrambled to his feet. He looked around frantically, trying to
decide in which direction he should head.

- and then the screams penetrated his
thoughts. His body jerked as that of a man receiving a shock. They
were coming from out on the terrace somewhere.

Stephanie\

Fast as his legs could carry him, he dashed
across the room and wrenched the curtains aside, hoping he would be
in time.

'For Christ's sake, help me! I'm going to
fall!'

Stephanie hung from the windscreen, kicking
her legs in a desperate, futile attempt to find purchase. Already,
she could feel her grip weakening, her hands tiring. 'Help me!' she
cried hoarsely. 'Barbie, please help me! I don't want to die!'

Barbie grinned, her black eyes bright and
insane as she lazily held out a beautiful red long-stemmed
rose.

'Grab me!' Stephanie screamed. 'For God's
sake, Barbie, pull me up! I can't hang on much longer!'

Barbie reached out and stroked Stephanie's
face gently with the velvety rose petals. 'Ever hear of The Ghost?'
she asked softly, as though they had all the time in the world.

Stephanie tried to focus on Barbie's words.
Who the hell's The Ghost? she thought furiously. And why doesn't
she just grab me and pull me to safety?

As though reading her mind, Barbie said,
'The Ghost is the best assassin in the world. The Ghost was hired
to kill you.' Her voice dropped to a taunt. 'And you know
what?'

'Please, help me, Barbie . . .' Stephanie
whispered. She was becoming exhausted, could feel her fingers
loosening and gravity inexorably pulling her down.

'My name's not Barbie,' she shrieked. 'My
name's Shanel, and you're the only person on earth knows Shanel is
The Ghost!' She slapped Stephanie's face harder with the rose. 'And
now, it's time to fulfil my contract!'

'Nooooo!' Stephanie sobbed.

The thorny rose whistled through the air
like a whip and stung Stephanie's face. Then Shanel began to pry
her fingers loose.

'No,' Stephanie sobbed. She felt Shanel
tugging at her hands, yanking them loose. She clutched her
hand-hold grimly, squeezed her eyes shut.

'Goodbye,' Shanel said, 'and good riddance.
Now die, bitch, dieV

Johnny was getting out of a cab in front of
the apartment building when the screams coming from above drew his
attention. Leaning his head back, he looked up to the top of the
building and then moaned. Even from twelve floors below, he could
see Stephanie dangling in midair - knew it was Stephanie! He
started to race into the building, moving as he had never moved in
his life. But even before he reached the entrance he could hear the
blood-curdling screams gaining in volume. The next instant, two
bodies, clutched together in a grotesque embrace of death, came
hurtling down.

He watched in horror as they crashed into
the roof of the cab with such force that the roof caved in and the
safety glass burst out in a shower of pellets.

On the twelfth floor, only moments earlier,
Stephanie had struggled to hang on, fighting Shanel's relentless
hands with everything she had. Stephanie had never seen such
obdurate single-mindedness in her life, and she had the urge to
hang on by one hand and use the other to fight the assassin off,
but she resisted. Instead, she gripped the windscreen even tighter
as Shanel yanked furiously at her hands.

'Let gol' Shanel hissed. 'I'll break your
fuckin' fingers if I have to!'

The fury of the attack rocked Stephanie's
body from side to side. Her feet and knees scraped across the sharp
rough concrete.

And still she hung on.

'Let go! Goddamn bitch - I'm gonna break
every last fuckin' finger you got!'

Snarls and pain: her life reduced to
this.

Stephanie cringed as the torture continued,
trying to resist the fists pounding on her fingers. 'Stop it! Stop
it!' she heard herself groaning, not knowing how much longer she
could bear this kind of punishment -

- and then Eduardo appeared, a knight in
shining armour, gilded by the bright sun, and hesitated only
momentarily to get his bearings. Shanel heard his bellow of rage
and let go of Stephanie's hands and turned to face her new
adversary. But already, Eduardo was hurling himself towards Shanel
in a flying tackle and caught her around the thighs.

Shanel let out a mortal bray of fury and
lost her balance. That, together with Eduardo's momentum, was too
great to interfere with the laws of gravity. Stephanie screamed as
he and Shanel went somersaulting over the parapet, embracing each
other like obscene lovers as they hurtled past her and tumbled
down, down to the faraway ground below, their echoing screams
fading until she heard a report like a gunshot.