Generation of Liars (15 page)

“Oh, right, of course,
the
gardens.”
I tried to conceal the blush from the embarrassment of not knowing my own
supposed neighborhood. “My morning is free. Just give me a minute to change
clothes. I’ll be right back.” I whirled into my bedroom and grabbed the tan
trench coat and tripped into a pair of nude ballet flats.

The walk to the garden only took
five minutes, and being a particularly brisk October as it was, we could see
our breath while we walked through the plush, barbered greenery of the lawns.
There was a faint beat of an accordion playing somewhere off in the background,
as natural an element as the wind and sun on our cheeks. The edges of the park
were exploding with color, lush plants and flowers that seemed to be dripping
fumes. It appeared that the garden was full of two kinds of people: dog owners
and romantics.

“So what’s with the cloak and
dagger persona?” Ben asked me.

“I like to keep things
interesting.”

“You have a really nice apartment
for a flight attendant,” he said, as we passed one of the garden sculptures; a
petite replica of the Statue of Liberty. Her skin was seafoam green and the
plaster on her nose was chipped.

“A woman’s assets are really
nobody’s business,” I tensely replied.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have
mentioned that. I was just thinking out loud. Gosh, it was rude of me to show
up at your apartment unannounced. It’s just that I couldn’t call you because
you never gave me your phone number, and I was certain you would want your ID
card.”

I reached into my pocket for my
cigarettes, banging the pack against my palm to loosen one out. “No, you were
fine. A girl all alone in a big city learns to be defensive, that’s all.”

“I totally understand. Especially
with the whole drama of a jealous ex-boyfriend lurking about in all the dark
corners.”

I stooped down to pet a statuesque
Great Dane that passed by on its owner’s leash. “I told you not to worry about
that.”

“I really like you, Alice.” Ben had
blurted the words in such a way that he didn’t seem in control of it.

The dog went past and I slowly
sprang back to my feet. I couldn’t help but grin at what Ben had just said.
“That’s really sweet.”

“But you’re so mysterious, and you
seem to make up crazy stories just to avoid telling me anything about yourself.
I don’t even know if your real name is Alice or Heather. It’s like you’re
either hiding a big secret or you’re not interested in me.”  

I flicked the tail of my cigarette
into the grass and reached for a new one. Then I froze. “Oh my gosh. This is so
embarrassing.”

“What is it, Alice?”

“I just realized that I’m chain
smoking in front of a doctor. You must be so disgusted. I think you referred to
my cigarette as a coffin nail when we met at the hospital.”

“You’re among friends, don’t
worry.” Ben reached into the interior pocket of his coat and pulled out a shiny
silver cigarette case. He lit one for himself. “But I should tell you that I
only smoke them on special occasions.”

“Oh?” I asked, grinning. “What is
the special occasion today?” We were taking up too much room on the sidewalk. I
leapt a trotting step over the leash of a zippy poodle and tripped forward just
in time for Ben to catch me. He firmed both of his arms around me and kissed
me. When he pulled away from the kiss, my eyes were so caught up in his I didn’t
realize my feet still hadn’t touched the ground.

“I want you to be my girlfriend,”
Ben said as he steadied me back down onto my two feet.

My phone rang just then and the
buzzing was loud enough that neither of us could ignore it. “Excuse me,” I
said, and I scooted out of earshot. “Hello.”

“Vacation is over, we’re going to
Brussels,” Rabbit said in a hoot-like manner.

“Why?” I asked.

“The tip from Benny Nebraska proved
useful. There’s a whiz kid over in Brussels, a university student named Jamie,
who has been tracking the dynamite stick in real time for the past three weeks.
He knows where it is right now. If we want him to tell us, we have to offer a
big bonus. There’s a private flight leaving from de Gaule in an hour.”

I hung up and shoved the phone into
my pocket and spun around to Ben to flash a begrudging smile. “Duty calls.”

“Is there a flight attendant
emergency? Did they run out of peanuts or something?”
      

“An extra flight just got added to
the schedule and it looks like I’m headed to Brussels. I’ll see you when I get
back, okay?”

Ben gripped his arms around my
waist. “Brussels? How exotic. You will make a very difficult girlfriend to keep
track of, Alice.” I sunk my head into the armpit seam on his coat and noticed
that with our height difference, that’s where I seemed to snug in naturally.

“Girlfriend? But I don’t believe I
said
yes
to your offer.” I lifted my head to peer up into his brown
eyes, which were surrounded by rows of unsparing lashes.

“How about you let me take you on a
real date, none of this trite coffee or walks in the park business. You let me
give you one real date, and then you can give me your answer to my proposition
of becoming my girlfriend.”

“Deal,” I said.

“When will you make good on the
date?”

“I promise, the second I land back
in Paris I’ll tell you and we will go out for a real date. I’ll wear a skirt
and a flower in my hair and act like a demure gentlewoman.”

Ben kissed the tip of my ear
softly. “I’m going to hold  you to that.”

Chapter Nine: The Brussels Affair

I
WAS FEELING vibrant when I climbed aboard the airplane an hour later. I had
gotten back from the park with just enough time to finish off the chocolate ice
cream in my freezer and change into a new outfit. I had on a silken sleeveless
dress and boots, which were licorice-black Wellingtons, and something about the
ensemble was making me feel confident. Of course, the kisses from Ben helped my
mood, too.

Rabbit was already onboard. He was
sitting astutely postured, wearing a crisp jean jacket, and there was a black
Victorinox briefcase clamped between his ankles. “Welcome aboard, Alice.”

I nodded a hello and wedged into my
seat. I closed my eyes and went back to thinking about Ben. My stomach was
doing that fluttery thing. Not like the time I got food-poisoned in Sydney by a
mob boss a year earlier, these were romantic butterflies. I remembered them
well from my past life with Pressley Connard.

Once the plane glided into the
airport in Brussels, I pressed my nose against the window next to my seat and
felt the chilly outside air. The city of Brussels appeared to have a mist over
it. Or the buildings were just old and grayish, I couldn’t tell. I had been
traveling from city to city for three years and I never got over how old Europe
was.

My phone rang. I gleaned the screen
and called to Rabbit, “It’s Motley.”

“Press the speaker button so I can
hear,” Rabbit instructed me.

“Hello, Motley,” I said, holding
the phone out in between myself and Rabbit.

“Hello, Alice.”

“Hello, Motley,” Rabbit called out
with two seats between us.”

“Hello, Rabbit,” Motley said. “I
hope you both are ready for your time in Brussels. Today you must visit a
student named Jamie at the university in the center of the city.”

“Will Jamie know that we are
coming?” asked Rabbit.

“I spoke with Jamie this morning.
The transaction will take place at the library on campus. The two of you are to
look for Jamie in the research stacks at six P.M in order to initiate the
transaction.”

I glanced down at the time on my
phone and saw that we had twenty-five minutes to get across the city to the
university and find the library building. “And you’re positive Jamie has the
information ready and available to hand to us?” I inquired.

“Yes, and our new student friend is
happy to exchange it for what’s inside the black briefcase Rabbit has onboard,”
Motley said. “Good luck.”

*   
*    *

An obsidian road stretched out
before us. Stacked urban palaces lined the streets, row after row of archival
architectures, their windows pinned shut by latticed covers like romantic
cages. Rain slanted down all around us as we sat restlessly in the back seat of
a cab en route to the university library. Rabbit’s fingers stiffly hugged the
contours of the black briefcase. I crossed my legs and postured into the curve
of the seat, a lipstick-marked cigarette was propped between my fingers.

I knew we were heading in the right
direction towards the university because all the kids gliding by us on the
sidewalk as we lagged in traffic wore Harry Potter glasses and held neoprene
laptop cases under their arms.

The cab stopped in front of the
library. I popped the passenger door open and turned to Rabbit. “Are you ready
to go find this boy wonder?”

“Let’s do it.” Rabbit drummed his
fingers over the briefcase. He hefted open the thick library door, holding it
for me as I stubbed my cigarette in the outdoor ash tray.

The circulation desk was a vast
horseshoe with a small army of librarians seated behind it, typing busily onto
their computers. The floor we stood on was glossy marble, and the expanse all
around us was defined by stacks of books that seemed to soar into heaven.

“The research stacks are in the
back,” I said to Rabbit. My eyes were scanning the map of the library’s layout
that was nailed above the drinking fountain.

Side by side, we traversed the
labyrinth of the book stacks, our eyes guarding left and right for a hint that
Jamie was watching us. I was on the lookout for the sight of a dweeb in Coke-bottle
glasses. I reached into my pocket and brushed my thumb over my revolver for
reassurance.

“Alice,” I heard a husky, yet
feminine, voice call out.

I cooled my tracks. I swung my body
around and saw a curvaceous, six-foot-tall woman standing behind me. She had
pale blond hair and poison-apple red lips.

“Yes?” I answered her.

“Are you Alice Fix?” she asked in a
wanton voice smothered in a French accent.  

“Are you an emissary for Jamie?” I
asked, with my eyes beginning a full body survey of the woman in front of me,
starting with her red platform boots and finishing at the scanty white blouse
stretched over her curvy figure. She wasn’t exactly dressed for a study session
in the library.  

“Are you ready to negotiate?” she
asked.

“My orders are to negotiate with
Jamie.”

“I am Jamie.”

“You’re Jamie?” Rabbit buzzed.

She pressed her face to mine, and
her lips, lathered in red lipstick, gritted the words, “I’m here to negotiate
with you, Alice Fix.”

My hand nervously fetched inside my
pocket and stroked the reassuring snout of my revolver. “Let’s negotiate,” I
said.

The blonde slid her long, delicate
fingers, with nails primed in cherry-cordial red, between the slice of her
v-neck collar. She pulled out a small black device with silver prongs
protruding from the face of it. I clutched the revolver in my pocket, nervously
thumbing the trigger, ready to strike. Before I could draw it from my pocket,
the woman’s hand flew up to my neck and she used the device to deliver a
painful jolt to my neck, which dashed through my nervous system in a split
second.

I dropped cold. My eyelids were in
a spasm. The activity around me was disintegrating into nothing but
kaleidoscope slashes of light. I was weaving in and out of consciousness. What
was that strange feeling? Air? The air was whipping my cheeks as I was dragged
through the narrow passages between the bookshelves.

*   
*    *

When I came awake, I could feel a
cold sting on my cheek. My skin felt as though it was pressed to a block of
ice. I blinked my eyes open and saw what appeared to be a dusty labyrinth of
green tiles spread in a grid pattern all around me.

I realized I was lying on a cold,
dusty floor.

I webbed my palms flat against the
ground, lifting my body up to rest on my elbows, and I scanned the wire cages
all around me. The stale odor of wet and mold captured my sense of smell. My
phone chirped and my hand slithered into my pocket to retrieve it and bring it
up to my ear. “Hello.”

“Alice!” Rabbit cried. “Where are
you?”

“That son-of-a-bitch blonde locked
me inside the library’s book vault after stun-gunning me. You have to come let
me out.”

“You’re in the book vault? I’ll
come get you.”

“Why am I always the one who ends
up passed out and injured while you make a clean getaway?”

“Alice, there was nothing I could
do. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Rabbit hung up and my eyes circled
the corners of the book vault. I looked at the piles of mammoth-sized
leather-bound books surrounding me and wondered if being locked in a book vault
was some sort of cosmic punishment for all the books I skipped on reading when
I was in school. I heard the lock on the vault door click. “Rabbit?” I called
out. “What took you so long? Oh, but whatever, I’m happy enough to get out of
here I could probably kiss you.”

“Then go ahead and kiss me,” a
voice, which was too deep and severe to be Rabbit’s, replied.

The door swung open, and on the
other side, a figure in a black trench coat was revealed.

“You?” I grumbled. “What are you
doing here, Pressley?”

“The same thing you were doing,
chasing Jamie, but we both missed out.”

“Why did Jamie go all psycho on
me?”

Pressley rubbed his fingers to his
temples. “That wasn’t Jamie. Jamie was found hanged in his dorm room this
morning.”

“If Jamie is dead, then who was
that psycho broad who just stun-gunned me?”

“Someone who got the information
from Jamie before she snapped his neck and strung him up next to his Lego
collection.” He let the vault door snap shut behind him and approached me, his
broad shoulders closing in on me like an eclipse, his sun orbiting my moon.
“Someone who is apparently better at this game than you or I.”