Promise Me Eternity (30 page)

“Can I tell you everything?”

He shrugged.

“My husband is a diabetic. He has to watch
his food and without insulin he would have been dead long ago.”

This got his attention.

“He can’t be killed by just anybody. It’s too
dangerous. But you can do it. If you did it, nobody would
suspect.”

What she was saying was complete madness.
Nonetheless, he asked her, “And how would I do it?”

She sniffed noisily. “Carlo comes home at
exactly the same time on particular days. On Fridays, for example,
at seven sharp. It makes things much simpler.”

Simon raised his eyes heavenward and laughed.
Let her talk
, he thought.

“You’d have to wait for him by the road.
You’d have to pretend that you were lost or that your car had
broken down, anything.” She waited for Simon to turn back to her.
“Since he knows you, he’s sure to stop. You know he has a special
regard for you.”

“And?” he said irritably.

“It would be simple then. You’d inject him
with a large dose of insulin so that he fell into a coma. It would
look like an accident.”

She had his attention again. “I thought that
you were joking, but now I see you’re serious.”

“Of course I’m serious, it’s my life that’s
at stake.” Then she corrected herself: “And yours.”

He stood there, numb with shock. “But—”

“It’s best if you think about it all. I know
it seems crazy at the moment.”

“That’s putting it mildly. What you’re saying
seems outrageous, not just crazy. And I can tell you right now that
I’m not a murderer and won’t do it. Ever!”

“I understand, Simon. I’d probably be
thinking the same if I were you. You’re not a murderer. I’m sorry I
even mentioned it to you.” She took her purse. “I have to go,
otherwise Carlo will get suspicious.”

Looking at her as she was leaving, Simon
said, “Wait. You’ve asked me if I’d kill your husband and now
you’re going home.”

“I must. I’d stay if I could. Sorry for
upsetting you. Let’s leave things as they are. I’ll keep living
with Carlo until he kills me one day. And you’ll go to jail. Sorry,
but I won’t be able to say I was with you that evening.” She pushed
down on the door handle.

“Hang on. What jail? I’m not going to jail. I
didn’t kill Helen!”

“Sorry,” she said, and ran down the
stairs.

Chapter 57

_______________________

“Hello, Carlo Vucci speaking.”

“Hi, it’s Bandito. I already have some
information about your wife.”

Carlo was in a regular weekly meeting with
the directors of his companies. He raised an arm, which meant a
short break. Everyone got up and left the room.

“Tell me!” he said, forcing his voice to
remain calm.

“Your wife entered Eden Park Hotel an hour
ago.”

Carlo’s right hand started shaking. “What was
she doing there?”

“I saw her meeting a man.”

“A man?” He gripped the receiver so hard that
his knuckles went white.

“Damn it, tell me who it is!”

“Sorry, that I don’t know. It’s just
preliminary information. I’m waiting in front of the hotel so that
I get a look at him. Then I’ll follow him home. You should know who
it is by the end of the day.”

Carlo’s jaw started trembling with fury. “OK.
Let me know as soon—”

“Hang on, he’s coming out, I can see him.
It’s got to be him.”

“What? Tell me, what does he look like?
Now!”

“It’s hard to say. Average appearance, around
forty, wears glasses, about six-foot-three, brown hair, receding
hairline …”

Carlo was trying to think of somebody
matching that description, but to no avail. “Follow him! I want his
name!”

“Of course, you’ll have it soon.”

Five minutes later, when the directors came
back to the meeting room, Carlo was gone. They waited for over an
hour, when finally one of them decided to call him.

After a short conversation, he turned to the
others, visibly shaken. “Carlo shouted at me. He said he doesn’t
have the time. The meeting is over.”

They looked at each other and left. They were
used to such outbursts.

Chapter 58

_______________________

He can’t be killed by just anybody. It’s
too dangerous. But you can do it. If you did it, nobody would
suspect. She’s completely nuts. Christine’s nerves are in shatters.
She must have said these things out of desperation. She can’t have
meant it.
Dr. Simon Patterson cursed the evening he had gone
for dinner at their house.
Why did I have to meet her?

He ran out of the hotel. With everything she
had told him about Carlo Vucci, Christine had managed to scare him
so much that he wanted to get home as soon as possible.

Crossing the road, Simon looked left and
right. He walked quickly and thought about her.
Poor thing, he
bullies her all the time. I’d so like to help her.
His
attention was drawn to the loud screeching of tires. He jumped
aside in a split second to avoid a small pickup. He saw the driver
angrily shaking a fist at him.

When he stepped back onto the sidewalk, he
breathed a sigh of relief. On the other side of the road he noticed
a few people staring at him. He went on toward home.

Why doesn’t she resist him? She can’t be
shut in that house for the rest of her life. … But you can kill
him. If you do it ….
He put his hand to his head, which was
starting to throb with pain. He decided to go to the drugstore on
the way home.

Simon remembered the police station and the
questions they had asked.
What should I tell them? Damn it,
everything is going wrong. I’m going crazy.

At the drugstore he bought some painkillers
and swallowed one without water. Standing there in the doorway, his
attention was drawn to a man in a white T-shirt that he had seen
earlier in the crowd of people on the other side of the road. Simon
hurried to the bus stop.

Sitting toward the back of the bus and gazing
absently at the passing scenery, Simon thought about Helen.
How
she must have suffered.
He clenched his teeth, trying to hold
back the tears.
Who did it? Helen, tell me, let me know in
whatever way you can
.
What am I going to do without you, all
alone?
A tear ran down his cheek. He brushed it away and looked
around to see if anybody was watching him. Nobody was, apart from
an overweight woman.
I’ve no job, and they’re threatening to
throw me in jail. How am I going to get out of this mess?

Feeling that he’d seen a familiar face, Simon
glanced around the bus and spotted the same man from the road and
the drugstore.
What if this is the guy who killed Helen? And he
tries to kill me too?

Simon snuck another peek. The man didn’t look
like a murderer. Then it struck Simon.
What if Carlo Vucci has
hired a detective who’s been following me from the hotel? Oh,
God.
He found it difficult to swallow.

The bus doors opened. Though it was Simon’s
stop, he decided to go another two stops to check if the man would
get off then as well.

As expected, the man followed him. Because of
his headache, Simon swallowed another tablet. He didn’t know which
was worse: a detective sent by Carlo Vucci or Helen’s murderer. He
wondered how to shake him off.

He walked along the narrow streets with the
stranger on his tail. Earlier, in the crowd, the guy had seemed
inconspicuous, but now there was just the two of them.

Finally, he saw an opportunity. A taxi
appeared, Simon raised his hand, and a few moments later climbed
in.

“Drive off! Somebody is following me,
quickly!”

The taxi driver sped off.

With relief, Simon saw the guy look around
helplessly for another taxi.

Five minutes later, Dr. Simon Patterson was
home. The mixture of fear and the two painkillers in his stomach
made him feel sick. He ran into the bathroom and vomited. At the
end of his tether, he slammed his hand against the wall.
I’ll go
mad. I’ve got to do something.

But you can kill him. If you do it, nobody
would suspect.

He rinsed his face with cold water and
brushed his teeth.
I can’t kill him, Christine, I’m not a
murderer. I can’t.

He looked in the mirror and saw large black
bags under his eyes. He thought he had aged. Then he cleaned his
glasses.

In the kitchen, he made himself some
chamomile tea and took it to the basement.
I’ll go and work.
That’ll calm me down.

When he got to his laboratory, he was in for
a shock. Dorothy was lying motionless on her side. He immediately
took her out of her cage and realized she was dead.

He groaned, “Oh, Dorothy, forgive me,
wherever you are. I’m the one who killed you. It’s my fault. God
should punish me. Kill me, too. I can’t go on.”

He cried, holding the rabbit and feeling
lonely. There was nobody left; he was all alone in the dusty
basement. Then he turned to the cage with the three rats, and they
were dead too.

He thought about Helen shouting at him and
telling him off. How he missed her and wished she was with him. She
would know what to do. His crying got louder, turning into
hysterical sobs.

He lamented his situation for another ten
minutes and then trudged upstairs. There was nothing left to do in
the basement. He decided to have a drink.

Chapter 59

_______________________

“I’m home!” shouted Christine as soon as she
walked in. “Where are you, darling?”

A hoarse voice in the room next door said,
“I’m in here, darling, watching a movie.”

She stopped in front of the mirror and
arranged her hair. She took three deep breaths and then entered a
cavernous room that served as a small movie theater. Several
luxurious armchairs were lined up with glass tables next to them,
on which stood fruit baskets. On both sides of a large
state-of-the-art screen stood tall surround-sound speakers.
Additional speakers along the sides of the room completed a full
audio effect.

“It’s an interesting film. Come sit next to
me.”

She forced a smile and sat in a chair next to
his. Only then she noticed that it was a horror film.

A servant walked in and asked if madam would
like anything.

“Vodka with orange juice, please,” Christine
said. “And get me a smoked ham sandwich. I’m hungry now, but I
won’t have any dinner later.”

The servant bowed and went to the
kitchen.

“Where have you been?”

An unshaved man on the screen was standing at
the bottom of some stairs, looking upward. In his right hand he was
holding a large knife. The music indicated that something horrible
was about to happen.

“Did a bit of shopping. Nothing special.”

“What did you say? I didn’t hear you.”

Christine was staring at the man, who was
obviously going to kill somebody. A woman in the bathroom was
applying face cream, not suspecting anything. She was very
beautiful. The music increased the tension.

“I said I was shopping.”

“I see, shopping?”

He said it in a way that made her understand
he didn’t believe her.

“Yes, there was something I needed.”

The woman turned off the light in the
bathroom and, naked, sashayed into the bedroom. The man, hidden
behind the door, followed her with his eyes.

Christine wanted to suggest that the volume
be lowered, but didn’t dare. She stared at the screen as a cold
tingling feeling traced up her spine.

Carlo stroked her hand and looked at her for
a moment. Christine shuddered. This was something that had recently
started happening whenever he touched her. However, she didn’t move
her hand away.

“Did you buy me anything?”

“Sorry, darling, but …”

The woman turned and saw the strange man in
her room. She screamed and wanted to move away. But before she was
able to, the man stabbed her in the abdomen and knocked her onto
the bed.

The sound of the woman’s death throes echoed
around the room and the horror of the scene was intensified by the
screech of violins. Christine felt goose pimples on her skin and
the strong squeeze of her husband’s hand.

She said, “Darling, you’re hurting me!”

The man lifted the knife again and pushed it
into the woman’s chest. The camera approached her face and showed
her bulging eyes and blood pouring from her mouth.

“Do we really have to watch this crap?”

“What crap?” he asked her nonchalantly. “She
got what she deserved. She whored around and cheated on her
husband.”

A burning sensation filled Christine’s
stomach. She felt that the man in the movie had stabbed her. She
began to get up, but Carlo stopped her.

“Where are you going?”

She pulled her hand out of his grip. “I don’t
like this movie. I’m not watching this bloodbath. I’ll go and read
instead. It’ll relax me.”

His eyes followed her icily.

First, Christine went to the kitchen and
filled a wide, shallow plastic bowl with crushed ice from the
freezer. Then she went to the bathroom and filled the basin with
water. She pushed her hands into it and wetted her face a few
times, trying to relax. She removed all her clothes and massaged
her body with the icy water. This was something she did whenever
she was upset. Like some sort of torture, it made her forget that
she was upset.

To end the ritual, she rubbed herself with a
towel and reapplied her makeup. Looking at herself in the mirror,
she thought about what had happened in the movie room.
That fat
bastard suspects something for sure.