ROMANTIC SUSPENSE : DEATH WHISPERED SOFTLY (9 page)

And when Ricardo confirmed he was waiting in his car, parked a block away from the café, Steve heaved a sigh of relief. He was now ready to put the plan into action. Standing now right in front of the café, Steve glanced at his watch- it was 12:27 a.m.  “Time to enter the café” he took out from his pocket, the thick horn- rimmed glasses that would camouflage his face, and his gloves to prevent leaving his finger prints behind. With his disguise in place he was ready. He knew that the man who was about to enter the café looked nothing like him! And this greatly comforted him. He put his hand in the pocket of his trousers and gripped the cold butt of his fully loaded gun.

At precisely 12.30 a.m. Steve cautiously entered the café, wearing horn-rimmed glasses, with his hood up, his gloved hands in his pocket.

His hooded figure was ominous and made the waiter behind the counter look sharply at him. But Ricardo was right; this waiter was far from a powerful man. Small in stature, he was of Asian descent; he was perhaps a student who worked at this café to earn some money on the side.  Steve knew that his entry had totally fazed the waiter, and to pacify his fears, lest they grow to epic proportions, he gave the waiter his boyish and friendly smile. The smile had an immediate and magical effect on the waiter, calming his anxiety of this hooded figure that had suddenly materialized from nowhere. The relieved waiter beamed back at Steve.  Still smiling Steve walked up to the counter and asked the waiter, in a tone that was deeper than his usual voice, for a cappuccino. As the waiter rang him up and began to prepare his cappuccino, Steve casually looked around to see what Grace Kingsbury was doing.

The first sight of Grace Kingsbury was something that would be etched on Steve’s memory for a long, long time.  He had heard from Ricardo that Grace Kingsbury was beautiful.  But when he saw her barely fifteen feet away from where he was standing, he realized that that was the understatement of the year.  Grace was not just beautiful, she was a stunner! And her strikingly good looks took Steve’s breath away.  Grace Kingsbury was slim, with soft wavy brown hair that flowed over her shoulders. She had sharp features and high cheek bones. Her complexion was pink and flawless and she had large violet colored eyes that further enhanced her beauty.  Grace Kingsbury was strikingly good-looking, and her beauty jarred Steve. He instinctively knew that Grace Kingsbury’s captivating looks had the potential of snapping his plans. “
Careful Steve, calm-down and take control”
he cautioned himself. But it took considerable effort for Steve to calm down and regain control, and when he finally did, he looked at Grace Kingsbury again.  But this time he saw something more than just the beauty of Grace Kingsbury; he saw there was profound melancholy in her face. Steve could see this girl was going through copious amounts of pain and sadness, caused in all probability by the death of the one she loved the most—her father. But oddly enough the pain did not diminish her beauty, but rather it seemed to enhance it.

For a minute or two Steve couldn’t stop himself from staring at Grace Kingsbury, the woman he was about to kill. Her looks, her eyes, her pathos mesmerized Steve.  Her magnificent violet eyes were buried deep in the piano keys and she was immersed in the melody she continued to play softly.  Ironically she personified both—beauty and tragedy.

Her nonchalance, calmness, composure, and a complete disinterest in the person who had walked inside the café at this time of the night in a hoodie took Steve by surprise.   With great difficulty he took his eyes off Grace Kingsbury, and gently turned around where he found the waiter standing right behind him, the cappuccino in his hand, staring curiously at Steve.  “Excuse me sir, here is your coffee” the waiter said, still gazing inquiringly at Steve.  The waiter’s words brought Steve suddenly back to the disturbing reality of the situation. And the reality was that he had come here to this café with a predetermined plan—to murder this sad and stunningly beautiful girl. Steve managed to wrench himself from his thoughts and taking the cup of coffee from his hands, which still bore the gloves he wore to ensure he left no fingerprints, he looked at the waiter, smiled and said “Thank you”.

“You are welcome sir. Please do not hesitate to ask for any other thing you need” the waiter offered politely, his suspicions and fears completely doused, and then walked back to his place behind the table. Steve had a feeling the waiter knew
what
Steve was feeling about Grace Kingsbury at that moment. The gravity of the situation, that he had come to assassinate this beautiful woman soaked in grief and despair, suddenly hit Steve hard. The effect of the previous two drinks was waning and he realized that he badly needed another drink. He desperately needed to soothe his nerves and regretted not carrying his whisky flask. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to go through this—the shooting— without another drink. He
had
to calm his anxiety in order to pull this off, and he also knew the café did not serve alcohol. “What should I do now?” he thought frantically.   And then he remembered that Ricardo had told him that Grace often drank brandy while she played piano. 

Steve looked feverishly around Grace to see if she had a bottle somewhere close by.  And it wasn’t long before spotted an expensive looking cognac bottle on the table right next to where she was seated. There was also a pail of ice right next to the bottle. And before he could check himself Steve found himself walking across to Grace Kingsbury and saying “Good evening ma’am, how are you today?”

Grace Kingsbury appeared startled by Steve’s greeting. It seemed to draw her out of the trance she was experiencing from her thoughts and the melody that floated from the piano, and she gave him a puzzled look.  “I am sorry ma’am, I did not mean to disturb you, but I couldn’t resist telling you that you play the piano so well. I have never heard anyone play it as melodiously as you did” Steve said and he earnestly meant it.

Steve’s words seemed to bring Grace Kingsbury to life and she smiled awkwardly at him.  “Th …thank you very much” she said in a faltering voice. I am sorry I didn’t notice you come in. I was so absorbed in my piano. It never seems to do exactly what I want it to” and so saying Grace Kingsbury gave Steve a faint smile.

“You are a modest person Ma’am. It’s easily the best I have ever heard anyone play” Steve said, a genuine look of admiration on his face. 

His plain awe for her embarrassed Grace Kingsbury and she blushed.  Steve was hypnotized by the way her face glowed as a stream of moonlight beamed in through the window.  Steve was so captivated by her beauty, charm and innocence that for a fleeting moment, he completely forgot about “the plan”. But the sound of breaking of glass from behind the counter thrust him rudely back to reality!

With considerable effort Steve managed to compose himself. He desperately needed a drink. And before he could restrain himself Steve found himself saying “Ma’am if you don’t mind I have driven much today and am very tired and cold, I couldn’t help notice, may I have a drink please?”

Grace Kingsbury was surprised by this unusual request, but she didn’t show it.

“Sure please go ahead and help yourself. I love this brandy; it’s an old French cognac with excellent flavor and sure is great for all that ails you” she smiled at him, a wider smile this time. Steve didn’t need any further encouragement. He swiftly crossed the floor and poured out a generous amount of brandy into a glass, didn’t bother to add water, and drank it in one gulp.  The brandy was silky smooth and went down with mellifluous ease without making him cough or sputter. 
He looked at her and said in a grateful tone of voice, “That’s the best one I have ever had ma’am.  Thank you very much.”

Grace Kingsbury was now looking inquisitively at Steve Neal. She was bewildered by this tall, young, and ruggedly handsome, yet strange man, whose clothing was daunting. There was something about him that was making Grace both wary and shy. He was obviously a very handsome man—despite the hoodie, his stubble and the awkward glasses he wore. A soft spoken, well-mannered man and yet he looked troubled, and needed a drink rather badly. Why? She wondered; a girl problem, a spouse problem or perhaps a financial problem? This man is obviously distressed and yet there seems to be something genuine about him, something sincere and kind, she decided. She wanted to know what was troubling him. For some odd reason she was consumed with the desire to help him.

But not for a moment did it cross Grace Kingsbury’s mind that this man could have come to the café with the express purpose of murdering her.

Although Steve perplexed her, even frightened her a bit, she was nonetheless pleased to see that he really enjoyed her brandy. There was something magnetic about him which was drawing Grace closer to him.

As she pondered what was concerning this sweet-mannered handsome man, Steve realized that Grace Kingsbury was staring at him—sharply and curiously. But before he could say anything she smiled and said “Well sir you can have more if you want, I hardly have a drink or two myself so there is plenty to go around” 

Steve was startled to discover that Grace Kingsbury’s smile had made him go weak in the knees.  Damn it! What’s the matter with me, am I going soft?” he admonished himself mutely.
Steve had been around beautiful women before and was able to be in control of his feelings, but with this woman it was somehow different.  Grace Kingsbury’s innocence, her quiet demeanor, her sadness, and her stunning beauty were having a disturbing effect on him and he was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on the formidable task for which he was here.

He was surprised how he felt; he had never felt like this before, and with an abrupt shock Steve realized that he was falling for Grace Kingsbury!

“Damn it Steve!
He reprimanded himself inwardly
. You’ve not come here to fall in love with this girl, but to murder her! If you do not kill this girl, you will not only lose the golden opportunity of obtaining the power, prestige, and wealth that you desperately seek, but you would also have a madman and his killer crony gunning for you!”

Even in these tender moments of infatuation, Steve could not forget the reason he was in this café this dark and cold night. He knew if he wanted to permanently break free from the world of crime and establish his own business he had to carry out this one last assignment.

Steve felt broken. He desperately wanted to become successful, and acquire the wealth and esteem that would help him get away, once and for all, from the wretched world of his past, and the stench of his prison cell—which tormented his mind relentlessly! 

He was weary of them all, and ironically this beautiful kind girl, who seemed to wield a magnetic attraction, was now standing between him and his future. He had to make a decision—the most difficult decision of his life.

In these moments of strife and indecision, Steve gripped the brandy glass hard, managed to keep his face expressionless, and thought feverishly what to do. “
Should I just take off from here, without harming this beautiful, innocent girl, take a flight and get the hell out of New York, and bid good bye to my future? Or should I put my emotions and sentiments behind me and just complete the task for which I have come.  After all, I don’t even know her…Dang this girl!”

His mind was spinning. He didn’t bargain for this to happen, it was making the choice more and more difficult for Steve, and even as he hesitated, the vibration of the cell phone in his pocket jolted him.  Startled, he fished his cell out of his pocket. He had received a message…It was Ricardo’s text.

“What the hell are you doing Steve? Finish the job and get out of there, I’m a sitting duck out here!”

Ricardo’s message shook Steve out of his indecision and hesitation and he turned his cell off, placed it back in his pocket.
“The bastard is fearful I may chicken out”
Steve said half aloud, even as a scornful smile came to his lips.  
“He knows that I am behind the scheduled plan and he knows that I am hesitating. Each minute that passes makes the plan more vulnerable of going awry, and the dude is mad at me for putting us in a precarious situation. Delaying this even a second more can be perilous”
Steve cogitated.  With considerable effort he managed to look into the direction of Grace.  He was relieved to find she was not watching him anymore.  She had gone back to playing her piano, her thoughts focused on the music.

He knew that the longer he delayed, the higher the chances that she and the waiter would become suspicious. He had to pull himself together and focus on the job he had come to do! 

“Are you alright?” Grace Kingsbury’s soft voice startled Steve and snapped him out of the bout of hectic thinking.  He found Grace looking worriedly at him.

“I… I am alright; just have a bad habit of getting lost into thoughts Ma’am’ Steve said and smiled his boyish smile.

Oh, Thank goodness, I became worried that you were not feeling well or something, even more worried that it was perhaps my brandy that made you feel unwell! Grace smiled at Steve.

“Nothing of the sort; your brandy is simply the best I’ve ever had. Actually I am surprised, that with me around there is so much of it still left in that bottle!

Grace Kingsbury laughed at Steve’s statement. And for the first time since he had entered the café, she looked straight into his eyes.

Steve was surprised to see that her face, which earlier on was a reflection of pathos and loneliness, had magically transformed into a bright happier face of a joyful person... with feelings in her heart? Could it possibly be?