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5


The doorbell rang twice and then, after a short pause, once again. I went to answer. It was Bobby Bjornson and she was standing there, looking even more beautiful than ever. Well, at least, more beautiful than the previous time I had seen her, since it was the only time. She wore a black tight-fitting skirt that accentuated her perfect hips, and a cherry-colored blouse with lace on the neckline and on the cuffs. She had a black see-through tulle jacket draped over her shoulders.

“Come on in!” I said and made room for her.

I had invited her to my place because when she called, it was the early evening and I didn’t want to go back to the office. Besides, my house was a little bit more spacious and we didn’t need to rub hips here.

The environmentalist smiled faintly at me. She took a step inside and, although there was enough room for both of us, she passed very close to me, almost brushing my chest with her left shoulder. I wondered whether it was supposed to mean something but I decided it was accidental and meant nothing. Male thinking is rather perverted in such situations and men easily imagine things; maybe she just wanted to show off her perfume, which was very nice and delicate.

We went to my living room and I waved a hand to invite her to take a seat. She chose the cushioned armchair so the sofa remained for me. I asked her if she would like a drink.

“A glass of white wine, please,” she said.

I hurried to the kitchen to open a fresh bottle. Luckily, I keep a much broader variety of liquor at my place than in the office. For me, I quickly mixed some vodka and lime and then carried everything back into the living room.

“So what do you have here?” I asked her and nodded toward the leather bag she had brought, while simultaneously handing her the glass of wine. She reached out and grabbed the stem, but she did it a little bit too nervously, and her fingers touched the back of my hand.

“Thank you,” she said and then we clinked glasses. “There’s a very good camera inside with a set of powerful zoom lenses. They have different levels of sensitivity to light. You can snap anything with this gadget but you should be aware that it’s not digital. It’s an analog camera with a celluloid film.”

She slowly started to take things out of the bag. Most of them were various zoom lenses, none of which I was exactly sure how to handle properly. They seemed too numerous and too chunky for a delicate operation like snapping mafia bosses at a secret meeting!

“And why is that?” I asked her. “Why do I specifically need an analog device?”

She stopped laying the things out on my coffee table for a moment and took a long sip of her wine. She seemed tense but I didn’t know why. There was nothing wrong with my place except for the usual disorder but I was sure it was not the reason.

“It’s harder to fake pictures with this thing, if not nearly impossible,” she explained briefly.

“Why would I even do that?”

“Well, you won’t! But someone else may assume you’ve done it. Analog pictures are more reliable as evidence because their authenticity is unlikely to be compromised without leaving signs behind. An expert could easily confirm or deny interference.”

I thought about it; it made sense. Nevertheless, I was not convinced that she was entirely sincere. She kept holding something back.

Bobby played a little bit with one of the zoom lenses and then she agitatedly put everything aside.

“I guess you’ll be better with these things than I am?” She shrugged. “I’ve never known anything about photography!”

“If you’re not into photography, how could you choose the right camera for me?”

“I was helped,” she pursed her lips and looked around the room with curiosity. “So you live alone here?”

“Yep, I live all alone.”

“No Mrs. Mellrow or…Miss Mellrow?”

“Well, I don’t have a girlfriend at the moment if that’s what you’re asking,” I said. “The things I do are not exactly girlfriend friendly, if you know what I mean!”

I looked closely at her face. Her eyes evaded mine and her lips were tight. I was becoming more and more suspicious about the actual reason for her visit here and I just didn’t know what to think.

“And you?” I asked after a while.

“What about me?”

“Is there a Mr. Bjornson around?”

“Oh, no. I’m also too busy with my work. I guess my job is not boyfriend friendly either!”

I smiled at her because I felt a bit awkward and uncertain regarding her intentions. She smiled back but her expression turned out to be one of those weird looks she demonstrated in my office: it was somewhere between surprise, wonder, and sulking. Nevertheless, she looked quite cute. Her nervousness was part of her charm. She quickly took another sip from her glass and gestured vaguely in the air.

“Oh, boy! Is it hot in here or is it just the wine?”

“It’s not cold. Feel free to take off as much of your clothing as you want,” I grinned and tried not to look lewd, which was pretty difficult after what I had just said. Sometimes, when I have a joke, I just can’t restrain myself—it usually brings me so much trouble with women and paints the wrong picture of me.

She took off her tulle jacket, but that was all for the moment.

“So how did you get involved with Green Guards?” I sharply changed the subject, partly because I wanted to hear the story, and partly because I didn’t know what else to say. I knew she would lie, however.

“Well, it’s too long to tell!” Bobby shrugged, almost theatrically. She was a terrible actor, and by just watching her gestures, one could literally know when she was about to lie. “Basically, it was a chance that I started. I have a master’s degree in pharmacy and they had an open position so I applied. I help with tranquilizing animals in various situations, you know. I was young back then and I found this field interesting; now—not so much!”

“So you’re an animal hitman!” I tried to crack another joke. “You shoot poor innocent creatures down with darts!”

She laughed at first but then stopped right in the middle. Because of her nervousness, it looked like a quiet sneeze.

“Well, no! It’s more of a consultancy job: handling the doses and such things. And what’s your story? How did you get into investigating?”

“I’ve never wanted to be a cop,” I said. “I was in the Police Academy once, but I quit. I guess I just hated staying in the office doing paper work, or doing grid searches in the fields. I preferred to search wherever, whenever and whatever I wanted. Shortly after that, I realized that nobody was prone to pay for this, but by then it was too late—I’d already printed my advertising materials!”

She laughed sincerely this time and it was a delight for me to see her. She had a beautiful smile.

“By the way, how did you know about me?” I asked suddenly, without warning, changing the subject again. I hadn’t given up my attempts to get her to tell me the truth.

“What do you mean?” she pretended she didn’t understand.

“I haven’t worked with Green Guards before and I hadn’t even heard of them until I met you. How did they know about me?”

Bobby Bjornson’s face suddenly darkened. Her charming smile dissolved into something that resembled the expression women usually have when trying to talk with a beauty mask on their face.

“You were recommended to us by a client we work with,” she answered and drank again to buy some time. Then she realized I was going to ask who the client was and she quickly added, “It’s someone who is close to our boss. I don’t know him.”

“Well, it’s quite strange that your boss send you to me without any background!” I insisted. “Weren’t you given at least a resume of my previous work? How were you supposed to convince me if you knew nothing about me?”

“Well, I did convince you! Right?” she gave me her next weird smile. “It’s always easy when the payment’s good!”

“Yeah, right,” I kept looking at her puzzled. I couldn’t imagine a single person in the list of the people I had met in my life who would serve as a connection between her organization and me. Then I thought irritated, “What organization are you talking about? There’s no organization; she’s just lying!”

Bobby remained silent for a while and, as the tension in the room rose, she started playing with her hair. I sat on the sofa without saying anything. Eventually, she moved on to rearrange the zoom lenses on the table.

“Would you like another drink?” Noticing her glass was almost empty, I broke the silence soon. There was still awkwardness between us and if it had gone on much longer, she would’ve probably stood up to leave. I wasn’t quite sure I wanted this.

“Yes, please!” Bobby eagerly grabbed the opportunity to stay.

I quickly rose from the sofa and took the glass from her, intentionally touching her hand just to see her reaction. She didn’t recoil. There was a pretty good chance she wanted something more to happen and she even remained still for a moment as if waiting for it. I turned around and slowly left the living room.

Outside in the kitchen, I took a sip straight from the bottle of vodka before refilling my glass, after which I refreshed Bobby’s glass with wine. Then I took them both and looked through the window, thinking. I couldn’t imagine a single reason why my client would want to sleep with me. Maybe she wanted to push me toward doing something she thought I would resist but I had no idea what that thing might be—she had already hired me for the job and I had already agreed to it! She also had paid me a significant amount of money so it couldn’t be an attempt for bartering or something. On the other hand, the girl was very hot and she could have almost every man on Earth if she wanted; it was nearly impossible that she simply craved sex!

I was still thinking by the window, when I felt someone’s presence behind me, or rather I smelled someone’s scent. I turned around and Bobby was standing in the doorway. Curiously enough, she had the second button of her blouse undone now—back in the living room, it had just been the uppermost one.

“I wanted to see your kitchen,” she smiled uneasily. Her cheeks looked flushed—probably because of the wine.

“Well, this is it!” I spread my hands, still holding the glasses. “This is where the magic of Murphy’s cookery art happens! The place has a splendid view to another apartment building across the street, and I can watch other people cook while I’m having a drink and cooking myself!”

She looked at the window.

It was all true, by the way. From my kitchen, I could see right into my neighbor’s places just as they could see into mine from theirs. It’s one of the typical features of the old Greenland neighborhoods—streets are quite narrow. In the heart of the island, it’s a lot more spacious—like in America—but here, in the area of the former Danish colonization, it’s different. To be honest, I had never actually felt the need to poke my nose into other people’s lives and places. I rarely cooked or stayed in the kitchen unless some neighbor decided to throw me a peep show. People get really hot in kitchens sometimes, you know!

I held the glass out to Bobby and after taking it, she turned toward the fridge with curiosity and examined the magnets from various places I had stuck on the front and sides. I’ve always considered this a stupid habit but I always buy such shit when I travel, and I travel on a regular basis.

I moved closer to my weird night visitor and prepared to play a tour guide for her. She smelled really nice; I couldn’t tell what her perfume was but it was enchanting. I had actually just opened my mouth to start explaining about the Honolulu magnet, which in fact, I bought in Dundas on the north shore of Greenland, when Bobby unexpectedly turned back and our heads almost bumped. For a moment or two, we stayed like this, breathing just a few centimeters from each other, and looking into each other’s eyes. Then her mouth slightly opened and I thought it was too much. I felt that I had to try to kiss her because there was not a single thing telling me not to do so. A second later, I went for it: I kissed her and she eagerly kissed me back. Then I kissed her again and her left hand came alive and started wandering along my back, which was definitely the sign. The agreement between us had been obviously sealed!

To be honest, despite my confidence regarding the situation, I expected none of the warm welcomes I was given afterwards. Soon after the kissing had started, Bobby wildly jumped on me the way a prisoner sentenced to death would jump on a stripper coming to his last birthday party! I barely managed to take the glass from her right hand and put it on the kitchen counter where it tumbled down.

A few minutes later, things had spiraled even further, and at some point, they even got mildly rough. I had Bobby’s back pressed against the fridge door and her hands were behind my neck, while mine were on her butt. Her legs were clenched around my waist and she was effectively hanging in my arms. I didn’t like it very much the way it was and I actually wanted to take her into the bedroom but I was afraid to change anything—it had happened spontaneously and she turned out to be quite passionate.

I wouldn’t say that this pose was very arousing, by the way. Maybe it was at first, but they actually exaggerate it a lot in the movies. It’s rather distracting and takes considerable acrobatic skills. Luckily, Bobby was slim and it was not impossible for me to support her for a long enough time. My poor refrigerator had a really hard time, however. Again, unlike America, Greenland fridges are relatively small and the thing was banging against the wall so severely that I feared it would eventually interrupt our moment. Anyway, I couldn’t stop in the middle and start inspecting it so I just had to take the risk. Fortunately, Bobby turned out to be rather quick.

Incidentally, one very curious thing happened during the act—my damn cellphone started vibrating and chirruping on the kitchen counter near us at the most critical moment! I tried to ignore it but Bobby, being hot as hell, suddenly reached and grabbed the device and then her hand froze in the air with it. Her gesture surprised me so much and for a moment, I thought she wanted to hold it up to my ear so I could talk, but instead, she simply hurled it behind my back. I didn’t even think she noticed what she had done—it was entirely spontaneous.

In my mind, I silently accepted the unexpected loss. It was not that big of a deal but I had just reactivated my account and I needed the device for my work tomorrow. Since I was unable to turn my head and see where it crashed, I simply went on doing what I was doing and thought that Murphy and cellphones were obviously not meant for each other in this world. My only hope was the complete lack of a breaking noise behind my back.

Just then, another curious thing happened. I was well advanced in my acrobatics, when I noticed Bobby glance nervously two or three times at the kitchen window. I figured she was simply worried that someone might see us since the light was on, but the next time she looked, she let go of my neck with her right hand and sharply pulled her blouse up, grabbing one of her breasts. All the while, she kept her eyes fixed on the window. Then she gave out a couple of quick, constrained moans and shortly after that, I felt the first contractions.


©2016 S.T. Fargo
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!
(www.stfargo.com)

Eurasian Gambit—Chapter 5 | a science-fiction crime novel by S.T. Fargo

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