Mortal Fear (10 page)

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Authors: Greg Iles

BOOK: Mortal Fear
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SORRY TO INTRUDE
BUT WE CANT HAVE YOU
SCARING THE PAYING CUSTOMERS
LOOSE CANNON AND ALL THAT
PLEASE FIND SOME OTHER WAY TO GET
ELEANOR
OFF THE NET
IF YOU MUST
CIAO

The next words that appear are:

ELEANOR RIGBY> What just happened?

She must not have seen Miless message. I type:

HARPER> A glitch in my modem.

What now? Do I ignore Miles? Go ahead and warn Eleanor and a few others? My anger says yes. But what will be the result? A network-wide panic, probably. Eleanor and I are very close, but she has a writers imagination and love of drama. Could she really keep secret the possibility that there is a murderer stalking the female clients of EROS?

ELEANOR RIGBY> You said I was in danger. Physical danger. What were you talking about?

HARPER> You misunderstood. That was the start of a fantasy file I wrote for you this morning. It was sort of a Mata Hari thing, spies and sex, with you in the lead role.

ELEANOR RIGBY> Well if thats the case, send it through!

HARPER> My modems on the blink. Pretty embarrassing for the sysop, isnt it? Ill have it fixed by tomorrow. Ill put the file through then. Sorry to interrupt you for nothing.

ELEANOR RIGBY> Wait, Harper. I hate to confess this, but knowing you dont need me right now makes me need you. Could you possibly conjure up some stimulating prose for a lonely 30-year-old spinster with an itch?

HARPER> You mean realtime?

ELEANOR RIGBY> Yes.

HARPER> Unusual for you. How stimulating?

ELEANOR RIGBY> My sister is at a film with her one friend. I have the house all to my selfish self. Please make it hot enough for an on-line conclusion; i.e. once we get to the good stuff, please dont stop until I signal with a shriek of ecstasy.

I pause, trying to rein in my thoughts. I honestly dont feel like this tonight. Especially after Drewe and I had our actual-reality interlude in the Explorer. But Eleanor has done me this favor many nights.

HARPER> Romantic or dangerous?

ELEANOR RIGBY> Romantic _and_ dangerous.

HARPER> All right. We are finally meeting face to face. Seeing each other for the first time.

ELEANOR RIGBY> Where?

HARPER> The Peabody Hotel. Memphis, Tennessee. Were in the lobby, a huge open room with a bar and a grand piano and ducks and tons of atmosphere.

ELEANOR RIGBY> _Ducks_?

HARPER> Symbol of the hotel. Trust me.

ELEANOR RIGBY> Oh, I do.

HARPER> Im not as handsome as you have imagined me, but you arent disappointed. I have a certain power over you that you didnt expect. You want to please me, and this makes you a little angry. You understand?

ELEANOR RIGBY> Perfectly. What do you think of me?

HARPER> Mercy fuck.

ELEANOR RIGBY> Harper!

HARPER> Sorry. ;) Youre more beautiful than I imagined. Your body-doubles body was a given, but your symmetry still surprises me. Petite, and your face more feminine than I could envision.

ELEANOR RIGBY> Feminine how?

HARPER> The blend of curve and angle. Softs and hards. Cheek and jaw. Defined brows, nebulous eyes. Dusk is falling on the Memphis streets, over the river. Yellow lamps come up inside and light you like a painters hand.

ELEANOR RIGBY> What am I wearing?

HARPER> White linen. Appropriate for a deflowering.

ELEANOR RIGBY> You give me far too much credit.

HARPER> I intend to boldly go where no man has gone before.

ELEANOR RIGBY> Dare I ask?

HARPER> No.

ELEANOR RIGBY> Yummy.

HARPER> I see shadows of your nipples through the linen. They look more brown than pink.

ELEANOR RIGBY> How do you like my breasts?

HARPER> Champagne-glass size, exquisitely shaped.

ELEANOR RIGBY> What do we talk about?

HARPER> Inanities.

ELEANOR RIGBY> How long do we talk?

HARPER> Not very. Weve said all we have to say on EROS, havent we?

ELEANOR RIGBY> Do we diddle under the table? Victorian teasing?

HARPER> No. I sign the suite number on the bill and lead you by the hand across the high-ceilinged lobby to the bank of elevators. In the elevator we kiss for the first time.

ELEANOR RIGBY> A long kiss?

HARPER> When the door opens, were still kissing. An older couple is staring at us like we are crazy.

ELEANOR RIGBY> Im already wet.

HARPER> Not yet.

ELEANOR RIGBY> Im speaking in the present tense, dear. Off-line.

HARPER> Fine, but were not going to rush. When the stupid credit card key finally works, I pull you inside the room but do not turn on the light.

ELEANOR RIGBY> We havent been in the suite until now?

HARPER> No. Before you can say anything, I close the door and slip past you in the darkness, pulling my shoes off as I walk. You call out to me, but I dont answer. I hear you bang your foot into a chair. You curse. Were going to play a game, I say. What kind of game? you ask.

I stop typing for a few moments, letting the images flow freely in my head.

HARPER> A hunting game, I reply. Im going to hunt you in the dark suite. And the first rule is: we cant talk to each other. Even when I find you, we cannot speak. And theres another catch. I should have mentioned it earlier, but... well... theres another person in the room.

What? you ask nervously. Who?

Dont be frightened. Heor sheis standing silentlyor sittingsomewhere in the room, but only watching. How, you ask? Simple. Hes wearing a night-vision headset I brought to the hotel during the afternoon. You giggle nervously, but Im not joking. This person can see us right now and will watch us when I finally find you.

You dont believe me? Let down the top of your dress.

A few seconds later, a whispered voice from across the room says, Beautiful.

I can almost feel your heart stutter from the shock. Stay calm, I say reassuringly. This person is merely an observer.

All right, you stammer, far from your normally confident self. But who is it? you wonder. Who _is_ it?

Maybe its your sister, I say.

You bastard, you hiss.

Maybe its a bellboy I paid a hundred bucks to come upstairs and watch a beautiful woman having sex. Do you want to go on? I ask.

Yes, you say softly.

Even if you are seen?

I can do anything in the dark, you say. Even if the whole city is watching.

And so we begin the hunt. How do you feel now?

ELEANOR RIGBY> >toi bbusy otype<

HARPER> Please do your best to evade me, I tell you. But you should know that Ill be getting a bit of direction from our guest. He/she will whisper warmer or colder every so often.

You do not answer.

And so I begin the hunt.

The first thing I hear is silence. Blood beating in my ears. The suite is large. I move deeper into the bedroom to give you room to move. Then I wait motionless for two minutes. I sense you becoming more tense with each passing second. You cannot hear me. Very softly I remove my clothes. I feel the air along my body, especially on the places usually covered. I go down on all fours, allowing my body to cover more floor space, increasing my odds of
touching you if you try to slip past me. I move slowly at first.

Colder, whispers our guest.

I change direction. Where _are_ you? I ask in a singsong voice.

Warmer, says our guest.

Instinct tells me my back is a few feet from the far corner of the room. You are not behind me. Slowly and soundlessly I work my way across the carpet, pausing occasionally to listen and to try to feel any movement of air against my skin.

Nothing.

Theres not much floor space left to cover. Could you have climbed onto one of the beds? No. Id have heard you.

Wait. A rustle of cloth ahead of me. A few feet away.

Is she naked? I ask.

No reply.

I freeze. There is water running in the bathroom, the sound like a distant cataract in the silence. I rise and move quickly toward the soundtoo quicklyand bash my head against the door frame. Im in the bathroom now, but you arent. Steam coats my face and body like jungle humidity. When I reach to shut off the tap, I scald my hand. Yet even as I curse, I realize I smell you. In the blackness. The female smell. Strongly enough that I suspect you have left this as a calling card.

This is not turning out the way Id planned.

As I move out of the bathroom, something swishes past me in the dark. Strangely, it seemed larger than me. Then I hear the bathroom door close. I try the handle but its locked. Are you really inside? Or is this a diversion?

Where is she? I ask the darkness.

No answer.

Warmer or colder? I ask.

Nothing.

Then, through the bathroom door, I hear new sounds. A woman, softly moaning. A man rhythmically
groaning. First I think you are teasing me. Confused, I feel my way to the wall and break a rule. Switch on the light.

My assistant is gone.

The noises are louder. It sounds as though you are using my draftee in the bathroom and have locked me out. This isnt what I had in mind at all, but you sound like youre having the time of your life. I ask what you are doing but he answers insolently, She cant talk with her mouth full. Suddenly I am angry. I kick the door twice near the knob and it splinters open, flooding the bathroom with light. At first glance I feel relief, seeing that you still have your linen dress on. But a millisecond later the positions register: youre sitting on the edge of the tub and you have your hand around him and are working diligently (though your eyes are locked on mine) and he seems very close to release. Its the least I could do for him, you say, but what youre really saying is that you have no intention of letting me manipulate you with some kinky game like this, and Im standing there with a stupid look on my face while you finish him and he groans and you look into my eyes with barefaced defiance while he squirts copiously and again and you run your hands under the bath tap while he slips out the door of the room but not before he gives me a look like, You must be an idiot to share this lady with _anybody_. And then you lift the linen dress over your head and say, Take me to the bed, please.

So I do. This is finally lovemaking, as you are.

ELEANOR RIGBY> :) Shriek of ecstasy. Im done. I know that was quick, but I was reading some pretty steamy threads before you queried. At least your fingers wont be too sore.

HARPER> I was just getting to the good part. The part Ive really fantasized about.

ELEANOR RIGBY> Sorry. You shouldnt have let me near that insolent voyeur/bellboy/stranger. He was huge in my hand, by the way. I dont like that in intercourse, FYI, but since I was merely servicing
him manually, I liked that my hand wouldnt nearly go all the way around the thickest part of him.

HARPER> Youre embellishing my scenario.

ELEANOR RIGBY> Certainly, dear. Dont feel threatened. He was huge, but dumb as a doorpostas well as being hard as one.

HARPER> Feeling better, I take it?

ELEANOR RIGBY> Lovely. Although I consider that subject sacred, to be honest.

HARPER> What?

ELEANOR RIGBY> Our first f2f meeting. I would never want a third person present for that.

HARPER> Sorry if I tainted your fantasy. I should have realized.

ELEANOR RIGBY> No, its fine. But you are my secret friend, Harper. That is sacred to me. You have no idea.

HARPER> I do have an idea, Eleanor. You know that.

ELEANOR> Well, dont be a stranger. It was too long between rendezvous this time. Meet me tomorrow.

HARPER> Well talk soon. And alone this time.

ELEANOR> I like that better. Bye.

HARPER> Bye.

I thrust my chair away from the keyboard and focus on the sculpture of my fathers coat. Why
would
I thrust someone between myself and Eleanor like that? I suddenly want to warn her again, but I know Miles is looking over my virtual shoulder.

And then I realize something very disturbing.

The bellboy in the bathroom was Miles.

What the hell is going on in my brain? And how long has that son of a bitch been spying on my e-mail?
Everythings under control,
I hear myself saying to Bob Anderson.

Who do I think Im kidding?

Ive been lying in bed less than five minutes when it hits me: Miles has made a far more serious mistake than reading my e-mail. And Ive got to tell him about it. Its an hour later in New York, but I dont really give a damn.
Hes usually awake all night anyway, monitoring Level Three.

After four rings, he answers Turner in a voice that makes it clear he does not like being bothered by mere human beings.

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