Chaos Theory (14 page)

‘The British held this really thorough Court of Inquiry,’ said Leon. ‘The governor of Gibraltar said that he went out on to the runway around about ten o’clock in the evening to say goodbye to General Sikorski and his daughter. He knew this guy Prchal and he talked to him for about five minutes while the second pilot was warming up the engines. He said Prchal was like always, absolutely calm and normal.

‘Anyhow, they switched off all the searchlights, so that the pilot wouldn’t be dazzled when he took off. The plane took off, and because it was so dark, all they could see were its navigation lights. But the governor said that he suddenly noticed that the navigation lights were slowly starting to sink towards the sea.

‘He and one of his aides both agreed that they could tell that it was Prchal who was flying, because after take-off he always put the airplane’s nose down to gather extra speed before he climbed up to his cruising height. He said they waited for the lights to start to rise, but they never did. The aircraft flew out about three-quarters of a mile and then crashed straight into the sea.’

Leon turned the page. ‘At the Court of Inquiry, Prchal testified that after putting his nose down to pick up speed, he found that the joystick was jammed and he was unable to pull the airplane up again. But after it was salvaged, five different technical experts examined the airplane in detail, and none of them could work out how the controls could have become stuck. However, when he tried to pull back the stick it somehow became stuck and would not move. The governor said that nobody could have sabotaged the airplane, because it had been guarded by a Commando and an RAF guard during Sikorski’s entire visit to the Rock.

‘But here’s the clincher,’ said Leon. ‘The governor said that Prchal never wore his Mae West, ever. He always hung it over the back of his seat. In his evidence, Prchal insisted that he had done the same thing this time, but when he was picked out of the sea he was wearing his Mae West and every tap and fastening was properly fastened.’

Rick sat back in his armchair. ‘Sounds like an assassination to me. Especially since he was carrying that medallion with him.’

‘But there is no connection between Sikorski and me, none at all.’

Noah said, ‘Maybe we’re talking about assassins who kill people for no other reason except they’re trying to make peace. Sikorski, you, and who knows how many others they’ve bumped off – but nobody knows it was them.’

‘I can’t believe that. Who would benefit? It’s not even as if they claim responsibility to further their cause. They’re just like random killers.’

Rick dry-washed his face with his hands. ‘Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m pooped. Thanks for the meal, Silja. Thanks for the hospitality, Noah. And thanks for your detective work, scout.’

‘Keep your eyes peeled,’ said Noah. ‘And don’t get into any strange Liberator bombers.’

Adeola kissed him on both cheeks. ‘I really appreciate your help, Noah. This could be a great risk for all of us.’

He looked at her for a moment. She had the most striking face he had ever seen. Her eyes were more like those of a carnivorous animal, and her lips pouted as if she were on the verge of saying something that would make a man’s spine prickle. No wonder she could persuade politicians that there were better things in life than violence and aggression.

‘Take care,’ he told her, and kissed her back.

 

S
ilja went to bed almost as soon as Adeola and Rick had left, but Noah went out on to the terrace again for a last warm glass of wine. He had a headache and he felt battered and confused, but he didn’t feel like going to sleep yet. He didn’t want to have any more nightmares about Jenna.

He thought it was strange that he hadn’t heard any more from the police about Jenna’s murder. It had been reported briefly on the TV news, but the crash in which the two men in grey suits had been killed had received no mention at all. He almost felt as if it had never happened.

The night was humid and oppressive. Moths were beating against the lights along the terrace railing, and on the horizon he could see the distant flicker of lightning. He was beginning to realize that the world was a very different place than he had always imagined it to be. It was like walking behind a movie set and finding out that a sunny suburban front yard was actually located in a huge, gloomy studio, where doors led to nowhere at all and staircases stopped halfway.

He finished his wine and went back into the kitchen. As he passed Leon’s room, he saw that the light was still on. He hesitated, and then he tapped on the door and said, ‘Leon? Everything OK? Don’t you think it’s time you got some shut-eye?’

There was a snorting sound. He opened the door and saw Leon sitting on the side of the bed, his face a mess of tears.

‘Hey, buddy,’ he said, and sat down beside him. ‘You’ve lost your dad and your stepmom, but I promise you that you’re not alone.’

Leon wiped his eyes with his sleeve. ‘I can’t believe he’s dead. I feel like I could just go home now and he’d still be there.’

‘You’re never going to stop feeling like that. He’s always going to be alive, so long as you remember him.’

‘But why should anybody want to kill him? He was such a great dad.’

‘I don’t know for sure. Maybe it was all connected with this medallion thing, maybe it wasn’t. But we’ll find out, won’t we? Look at all that good work you did this evening, finding out about that plane crash.’

Leon sniffed, and nodded.

Noah said, ‘I’ll see you in the morning, OK? Do you want a drink or anything?’

Leon suddenly and unexpectedly smiled. ‘Do you know what my dad used to say? He said that everything’s funny, in the end. Being born is funny; living is funny. Even dying is funny. I guess he’s probably in heaven right now, telling jokes.’

Noah put his arm around Leon’s shoulders. ‘You can count on it. Bet the angels are wetting themselves.’

 

He crossed the bedroom as quietly as he could and slipped under the sheet. Silja had her back turned to him, breathing steadily. He lay there for a while, looking up at the ceiling. Right above his head, the jagged shadow of a yucca tree nodded backward and forward, like a predatory bird nodding on a branch.

He closed his eyes. He needed to sleep. He heard rustling, but he knew that it was only Silja, turning over. He needed so badly to sleep.

‘
Chaos, and old Night
,’ somebody whispered.

He opened his eyes. There was nobody there. The predatory bird was still nodding on the ceiling, Silja was still lying there with her pale shoulder raised. He wondered where he could have heard that phrase before. It sounded like Shakespeare, maybe . . . He would have to ask Leon to look it up for him. Maybe his subconscious mind was trying to give him a clue about something critical.

 

He slept. He dreamed that he was walking along the beach, and that a strong wind was blowing from the ocean. Lightning was flickering on the horizon, and every now and then there was an indigestive grumbling of thunder. Up above him, large predatory birds were circling, more and more of them, as if they were gathering for a kill.

About fifty yards ahead, he saw Jenna. She was wearing the wide straw hat that she had always worn during the last summer they had lived together, with a long white scarf tied around it, and the thin flowery dress with the puffy little sleeves.

He tried to walk faster, so that he could catch up with her, but whenever he was close enough to reach out and touch her shoulder, his vision blinked and jerked, and there she was, fifty yards away again.

Jenna!
he called, but the wind was blowing against him and she obviously couldn’t hear.
Jenna, wait up
. He looked up again and even more predatory birds were wheeling around.

He started to run, but there was something wrong with his leg, like Professor Halflight’s, and he could only manage an awkward, disjointed gallop.
Jenna, wait up!

He still couldn’t make up any ground between them, but then he remembered what Rick had said about the Auburn Lockstep. Shuffle sideways, dragging one foot. He started to do it, and found that he could make much better progress. He did it faster and faster, his foot leaving long slide-marks in the sand, and within a few seconds he had almost caught up with her.

‘Jenna!’ he panted.

She turned around, smiling, but as she did so her neck opened up in a gaping red wound and her head fell off, landing in the sand with a soft thump.

 

He shouted out, ‘
No!
’ and jerked upright. Silja immediately sat up, too.

‘Noah – what’s wrong?’

He stared at her. ‘Sorry – sorry. I had another nightmare, that’s all.’

‘Jenna?’

‘Sorry.’

She brushed the hair back from his forehead. ‘You’re so hot. Almost like you’ve been running.’

‘I was. In my nightmare, anyhow.’

‘It’s only inside your head, Noah. It’s only like a movie.’

‘I know. Look, I’m sorry I woke you.’

Silja said, ‘You need to relax yourself completely. When I was eighteen, you know, I saw my boyfriend killed on his motorcycle. I had nightmares just like you, over and over. In the end I went to see this therapist, and she taught me how to deal with them. First, relax. Then, talk to the person that you have lost, and explain to them how much you miss them, but you are now going to say goodbye. Then, turn around and walk away, and don’t look back.’

Noah lay back on the pillow. ‘And that works?’

‘It worked for me.’

She stroked his forehead with her fingertips, and then she leaned over him and kissed his eyelids. ‘You must lose all of your tension. Think of your mind like an hourglass, filled with black sand. The sand is running away, endlessly running away, and soon all of your mind will be empty.’

Her fingernails traced the shape of his face, and touched his lips. She kissed his eyelids again, and this time she delicately licked his eyelashes with the tip of her tongue, so that they were sealed with warm saliva. Then she kissed his lips, and ran her tongue across his teeth.

‘The sand is running away,’ she whispered. ‘Endlessly running away . . .’

She caressed his neck, and his chest. ‘Now, your heart is not beating so fast. Breathe deeper, and slower. Hold each breath for just a little while, yes?’

He felt her soft breast against his arm. Her nipple was crinkled tight. She slowly drew down the sheet, as far as his knees. He was wearing white-and-green striped boxer shorts, but he couldn’t disguise the fact that his penis was already beginning to stiffen. Silja’s fingertips did a light dance down his stomach muscles, and then wriggled their way underneath the elastic waistband.

He could have told her to stop. We’re not lovers, he thought. We work together. We respect each other for how professional we are. Not only that, I’m supposed to be shocked. I’m supposed to be grieving.

But he realized that what Silja was doing for him was nothing to do with being lovers. She was doing it because they were friends, because she wanted to make him feel like a man again, and less like the survivor of a terrible tragedy. It was sexual, yes, but it was deeply therapeutic. It was a first step towards repairing his soul.

She grasped his penis and slowly rubbed it up and down until it was swollen hard. Then she tugged down his boxer shorts, and took them right off.

‘You should think of nothing but yourself, and how good this feels. Concentrate completely on this.’

‘Silja—’

‘Ssh. This is your treatment. This is how you learn to say goodbye to your nightmare.’

She knelt up beside him, and took off her own white panties. In the dim light from the window, he could see that she was completely waxed, and there was a glisten of moisture in between her lips. Without any hesitation, she took hold of his hand and held it between her legs, so that he could feel how soft and wet she was. He slipped one finger inside her and she smiled.

‘You see? Therapy can be pleasure for the therapist, too. In Finland they say “
Jos
et loyda rauhaa itsestamme on turhaa etsia sita muualta
.’ If you cannot find peace within yourself, it is no good looking anyplace else.’

‘Here,’ he said, trying to lift himself up on one elbow. But she pushed him back down.

‘No,’ she said. ‘I am the therapist and you are the patient, and you must do whatever I demand.’

Without any hesitation, and with extraordinary grace and flexibility, she sat astride him, facing him, with her knees fitting into his armpits. Then she arched herself backward, so far back that she could take his penis into her mouth, and swallow the whole length of it. He had seen her do the splits. He had seen her jump, and somersault, and cartwheel. But he had never seen a contortion like this. It was both unearthly and highly erotic, as if he were making love to a completely new species of creature altogether.

She dipped her head back rhythmically, sucking his penis deeper and deeper. Her bare, pouting lips were right in front of him, so he lifted his head from the pillow and licked her, too, tasting thin, slippery sweetness.

On the ceiling, the predatory bird nodded and nodded.

The darkness began to close in. Silja sucked and sucked, and it began to feel to Noah as if she were sucking his whole being out of him; his passions and his rages and his memories and fears. Suddenly he went into a foot-curling spasm, and climaxed. She kept on sucking him until he softened, and then she sat up straight.

‘So. You feel better, yes?’

He looked up at her. He hardly knew what to say. She climbed off him, as easily and as athletically as she had climbed on, and lay down beside him, so close that he could feel her breath on his shoulder.

‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘did somebody teach you to do that, or did you make it for yourself?’