Crystal Masks E-Book

Terry Salvini

• Herausgeber: Tektime
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

Crystal Masks

Leseprobe

Terry Salvini

Crystal Masks

Translated by

Barbara Maher

  "Crystal Masks"

   by Terry Salvini

www.tektime.it

Maschere di cristallo © 2019 Maria Teresa Salvini

Crystal Masks  © 2020 Maria Teresa Salvini

Tralsated by Barbara Maher

You will learn at your own expense that along yourway every day you will meet millions of masks and very few faces.

(Luigi Pirandello)

No one can wear a mask for too long.

(Seneca)

To my ex-husbands

To my daughters

To my partner.

Prologue

Loreley awakened from a confused dream, drenched in sweat, her mouth furry and a painful throb at her temples. She massaged them, trying to understand the reason for that malaise, but her mind just would not cooperate.

She blinked several times before opening her eyes completely. Everything around her was shrouded in darkness; just a small annoying LED light intruded on that darkness: as usual, John had forgotten to turn it off before he went to sleep.

When she turned to him huffing and about to nudge him, she stiffened, puzzled. She looked at the red LED again. It was not opposite her, where it should have been!

That is not the television, she thought.

As her eyes became accustomed to the gloom, she forced herself to focus on some feature of the room, and could make out the dark silhouettes of the few pieces of furniture around her: not one of them seemed familiar.

This was not her bedroom!

She heard an intake of breath louder than the others, almost a wheeze; the bed moved, and she realized that her fiancé had just turned over towards her. A strong smell of alcohol puzzled her. He must have had a lot to drink, and a moment later it dawned on her that maybe she had too. She slid slowly out from under the sheets, but her legs were wobbly, and she had to sit down on the bed. Nausea joined the headache.

Several seconds went by before she tried get up again. When she felt confident that she could stand, she made her way to the LED, convinced that it must be a light switch. She touched it several times. Nothing came on.

Another doubt assailed her.

She went back to the bed, walked around it, and put out her hand towards the man who seemed to be sound asleep. Running her hand lightly over his hair and face, she looked closely at his features, taking care not to wake him.

Suddenly she pulled her arm back. Her heart seemed to stop for a moment, and then began beating again, faster than ever.

Who the hell had she ended up in bed with?

I must get out of here as quickly possible, she thought to herself.

Where had she left her clothes? She groped around and found her panties and bra under the sheet.

After an interminable minute, she also found her dress which had ended up at the foot of the bed. Her handbag was sitting upright in the armchair, the only thing in the right place.

Putting one hand out in front of her, she located the bathroom door and turned on the light. What she saw reflected in the mirror made her gasp. There was mascara was smudged around her deep blue eyes and dark circles under them. Her face had a perplexing pallor.

She sighed. It had been a long time since she had seen herself in a state like that.

The small bottles on the shelf by the washbasin, the white towels folded over the rails and two immaculate bathrobes hanging on their respective hooks, proved she was in a hotel room; how she had ended up there, however, she just did not remember.

She washed her face and fixed her long blonde hair as best she could with the tiny comb provided for guests, then turned to the window. It was still dark outside, and it was impossible to see anything, not even the moon in the sky. She took her cell phone out of her handbag: ten past four.

A shrill sound warned her that the battery was almost dead. Quickly, she lowered the ringtone and activated localization. The map indicated a spot in Uptown Manhattan, near Central Park. Not far from home, she thought, just as the phone turned off with a slight vibration.

She put it back in her bag, next to a small, round silver case: her pill holder. She stared at it as if there might be something inside that could help her think clearly again. A lifeline that could put an end to all her negative thoughts. She was about to take it out but had second thoughts. Perhaps it was also due to this weakness that she was in this absurd situation right now.

She closed her handbag; better to leave it where it was.

As she looked at her elegant dress lying on the stool, a flaky image of newlyweds toasting their future ran through her mind.

She tried to remember something more but desisted. There was no time to think. She dressed quickly and went back into the room.

Dammit, where were her shoes! She searched for them in the darkness, then stifled a cry and the imprecation that almost escaped her when she stumbled over them. Holding her breath, she listened closely. The man's light snoring continued uninterrupted and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Barefooted, she crept stealthily out of the room and waited until she was in the elevator to put her shoes on. At the front desk, she asked them to call a cab.

Outside, the night sky was dark, and the air was laden with humidity. There were very few vehicles in circulation on the damp streets which in just a few hours would be flooded with cars and people hurrying to get to work.

She had to be in the office that morning too, despite the nausea, headache, and devastated face. Her career did not allow her to miss work.

The taxi arrived within minutes. With an unsteady gait, she started towards the door the driver had opened for her; but as she stepped off the sidewalk she slipped on a small puddle. So as not to end up on the ground, she grabbed the man for support.

Hey, careful. No more falling into the arms of strangers! she told herself wriggling free from his grasp.

She saw him take a step back.

"I just wanted to help you get in..."

Loreley looked at him for a few moments, the streetlight showing a chubby face with an amused expression.

"I’ll manage by myself, thank you," she replied curtly.

Moving cautiously, she got in the back seat as the taxi driver settled behind the wheel.

"Where are we going, miss?"

Loreley gave him the address, then rubbed the back of her head with a grimace of pain.

"Are you okay? I can take you to the hospital if you like."

"No, there’s no need for that. It will go away..."

"A bit too much to drink, huh?"

She snorted. "I don't think it's any of your business."

"All right, but don’t vomit on the seat or you’ll have to pay a surcharge..."

Loreley scowled at him through the rearview mirror. "It's not going to happen. I just have a huge headache. A couple of hours of rest, a coffee and I'll be brand new."

"I hope new is better than now,” the driver commented sarcastically, a moment before making a sound like barely restrained laughter.

"Go to hell!"

If I survive, I swear I will never do anything like this again.

1

Loreley got up from her chair and walked across to the window of her office. She was tired of sitting behind a desk flipping through regulations and typing on the computer, and in any case, she had to go to court soon.

Although she couldn’t see the clouds, she felt that it would soon start raining again; her mood turned to gray, like the sky in those last two days, a colour she hated and that made her feel sad.

She stood there for a while with her gaze fixed on the vast bluish windows of the skyscraper opposite, her thoughts focused on what had happened the night before, trying to recall the sequence of events; but the memories in her head were like a grainy old damaged film, with the frames flowing quickly and then jamming in the same spot.

Her brother's wedding ceremony was quite clear in her mind, as was lunch at the restaurant of a hotel in Manhattan, the music and the toasts She had received plenty of attention from the men there, many of whom she had never seen before the party, and several that she had known for some time. Among them, there was one in particular which had tormented her in the last few hours and she suspected that it belonged to the person with whom she had left the restaurant, to go upstairs to the room.

I sure hope it was not him!

She was still staring through the window at the office in the skyscraper across the way when a noise behind her put a stop to the train of thought.

"Are you still here, Lorely?"

It was Simon Kilmer, a man whose skin was as white as the little hair that remained on his head.

"Sorry, my mind was elsewhere. I’ll get going right now."

She moved away from the window and went back to her desk. As she went to retrieve her notes, she knocked a file full of documents, which in turn slammed into the pen holder and sent it toppling over. The contents rolled across the mahogany desktop and ended up on the marble floor.

"What’s wrong with you today?" Simon asked her. "Are you worried about the Desmond trial? Sorry, but you have to be in that courtroom," he said in an authoritarian voice. "It's the least you can do to help me forget that you refused to accept the case. You ran the risk of..."

"It’s got nothing to do with the court case!" she interrupted him and knelt to pick up the pens and pencils. Looking up at him for a moment, she blocked the next question. "Don't worry, my problems are about my private life, that’s all. And now please don't ask me any more questions."

She put the pen holder back in place, took off her glasses and put them in her bag without another word.

Kilmer brushed the dark spot on his face, a barely visible birthmark under his white beard. "I don’t want to intrude. But whatever it is, try to become aware and alive again. You seem distracted, and you look exhausted. The holiday season takes away a lot of our energy..." He smiled at her, as if to make her understand that maybe he had guessed what the problem was.

Loreley did not respond to the taunt and smiled briefly. Cunning as that man was, he certainly could not have guessed what had happened. “I’ll take your advice."

"Run now, or you’ll arrive when it’s all over. And please let me know how it went as soon as possible. I want to hear it from you and not from Ethan, okay?"

"Do I have a choice? I know only too well that if I don’t, you’d make me pay in some way," she retorted, and walked from the room.

Whenever she went out on business, it was her custom to take a cab.

“100 Centre Street please, as fast as you can,” she told the driver, a young man with an Asian appearance and short, smooth hair.

They had travelled a couple of miles when the vehicle started to shudder, and a strange noise seemed to alarm the driver.

What’s happening here? Loreley wondered.

Cursing his bad luck, the man moved over to the side of the road looking for somewhere to stop, but more precious minutes were lost before he found a suitable place. He got out and walked around the vehicle, checking it carefully.

"Everything has gone wrong this morning!" he exclaimed with a gesture of anger. “All we needed was a flat tire!”

Oh, no! This is no good! she thought and got out of the car too.

"How long will it take to change it?"

"At least fifteen minutes, miss."

"I can't wait that long!" Her voice rose.

"I'm sorry, it's not my fault; you can see that too," he said, pointing to the almost flat front tire.

Loreley slammed the door. "Tell me what I owe you. Quickly, please."

"Don’t worry about it, today is definitely not one of my luckiest days."

"It's not one of mine either."

She pulled a ten dollar note from her wallet and handed it to the man, who had opened the trunk and was taking out the equipment needed to change the tire. He thanked her with a smile.

Loreley walked until she reached the intersection with the main road, seeing dozens of cars of every model and colour hurtle past her. Spotting a taxi, she raised her hand to hail it down, but it went straight past without even slowing down.

She saw another one coming and gestured wildly in the hope of stopping it, but to no avail. Another came along: nothing doing!  Those damned yellow cabs just went their merry way, indifferent to her plight.

Aren’t there any of these damned cabs available?

She tried one last time, waving until she felt ridiculous: still nothing! With a sigh she turned and went back to the taxi driver.

"Listen... how much longer will it take?"

"Just a few more minutes, miss," he replied as he tightened a bolt on the wheel.

"Okay. Here’s what we’ll do." She took out a few bills. "If you get me to court by eleven o'clock, this will turn into one of your luckiest days."

The man stopped what he was doing to think about his customer's generous offer, then started to work faster. A couple of minutes later, he was behind the wheel again with her sitting in the back seat, looking at her mobile phone and counting the seconds that passed.

Heavy traffic around Hell's Kitchen slowed the taxi almost to a stop. They were now proceeding at walking pace, and the honking of horns revealed the impatience of the drivers.

"Isn't there a way to get out of this mess?" asked Loreley.

"I'm sorry, miss. Don’t you think I’d have taken it if there was?"

"My job is at stake!"

"You have no idea how many customers get in here and every guy has his own story. Some don’t talk and hardly move, ignoring me all the way, then there are others who get really agitated... as if the seat was on fire under their ass. And they jabber on like you."

In the rear-view mirror Loreley could see him smiling and forced herself to smile back at him.

"But there’s one thing everyone has in common," he went on, "they’re in one hell of a hurry to get to their destination."

She took a deep breath to calm down. "I've already apologized, what else should I do?"

"Nothing! I prefer customers like you, miss, rather than the mummies."

This time Loreley smiled more convincingly at him. And with all the money I gave you! she thought, leaning back against the headrest. The pain at the back of her neck had diminished just enough for her to work but had not disappeared entirely.

Maybe this was a good time for a painkiller. The doctor had told her to take one only when the pain was not too strong and to double the dose only when it was necessary. Her obstinacy and too many commitments, however, had led her to taking them haphazardly, and in the space of a few years she had found herself needing a stronger dose.

Talking the small silver container out of her handbag, she opened it, took out a tablet and closed it again, her gaze lingering on the two Ls in shining gold engraved on the lid. Once it had stood for, Lorenz Lehmann, her grandfather; now, Loreley Lehmann.

As she feared, she was late getting to the courthouse. Even though the taxi driver had failed to maintain their agreement, she left the entire amount she had already given him, to compensate for her irritation which he had been forced to endure.

She ran up the wide marble staircase leading to the foyer of the building, hoping she was in time for the verdict. Luckily, she knew where to go and there was no need to wastemore time asking for information; it was easy to get lost in that vast building if you were not familiar with it.

Even before entering the courtroom, though, she realized that the ruling on the Desmond case had already been issued, as the door was open, and people were leaving.

 Darn it, too late! She clenched her hand and hit it against an invisible object.

Glancing quickly around from the door, she could see the tension on people's faces which had not yet subsided; the public and jurors were leaving their seats, as was Judge Sanders, a petite elderly woman, walking out through the door at the back of the courtroom.

Loreley went in and searched for her colleague Ethan Morris amid the increasing chatter. She saw him standing beside the defendant, Leen Soraya Desmond.

As if he had sensed her arrival, Ethan turned and gave her a forced smile. A moment later Leen turned around too and her oriental-looking eyes twitched.

"It won't finish here, Lehmann!" she yelled at her. "Sooner or later I'll get my revenge!" As two uniformed officers were leading her away, she turned her attention to a dark-haired man watching the scene, a short distance away. "My father won’t forget you and what you’ve done to me. Never!"

"I won't forget either, Leen! You can be sure of that," she answered in a strong, determined voice, though not as spiteful.

Intrigued, Loreley studied the object, or rather the subject, of such acrimony, and the moment she recognized him she stiffened and stared at him as if in a trance. The clips of the old film started to flow through her mind again, but this time they were vivid, fast, with no interruption.

Oh my God! Him!

"What's wrong? Is it because of what my client said to you?" asked Ethan as he approached her.

She unbuttoned her tight-fitting blue jacket which at that moment was preventing her from breathing, until her chest finally lifted and let some air into her lungs.

"Not really. I'm just a little tired."

The lawyer smiled at her, nodding. "I guess yesterday was a kind of tour de force."

"Yes. And seeing that woman again just now..." She looked at the doorway through which Leen had just left. "Well... it certainly wasn’t pleasant. And besides, I didn’t get here in time."

"Don't worry. I won’t tell Kilmer you were late, not him and not Sarah. If you come to lunch with me, I’ll tell you everything that was said, so in case you get the third degree you will know what to say."

"Thank you. But I wasn’t late on purpose, you know, the taxi had a flat tire."

"Kilmer wouldn't believe you, but I know you better than he does. Now let's go and eat, it's the only pleasure I have left."

The dark-haired man who had just had the exchange of words with the defendant, caught up to them and blocked them just outside the door. Loreley gripped the handle of her bag so tightly that her nails dug into the palm of her hand.

"Counselor Morris, I congratulate you on your excellent defence, but I'm happy that it wasn't good enough for you to win," the newcomer said smiling at him, as she discreetly took a step back.

"That’s understandable Mr. Marshall." Ethan looked awkward.

"I wish you a good day, counselor," said the other, then turned his gaze to Loreley. "Hello, Lory." He stared at her for a moment, as if he wanted to speak to her,but didn't knowwhat to say.

Overwhelmed by conflicting feelings and thoughts, she opened her mouth to return the greeting, but was unable to utter a single word.

He smiled at her, though his amber-colored eyes had a serious look. "I'd prefer that we see each other a long way from here next time," he concluded, then turned his back on her and walked away.

Ethan scratched his shaved head. "What’s wrong, Loreley? You didn't even say hello."

"I'm sorry... I don't know what got into me."

She saw him shake his head, as his eyes expressed confusion.

 "Well, come on. I was so tense this morning, I didn't have breakfast, and now that it's all over, I’m feeling very hungry."

***

A week went by, with Loreley feeling more serene and managing not to think too much about the mess she was in. The few times that she did, especially when she alone was in bed, she would dismiss those memories, take a book at random and read until her eyes were red from exhaustion and she fell asleep; or else she would watch all kinds of documentaries on television. Anything was okay if she could focus her attention elsewhere.

She remembered very little of the hours of passion she had spent with the impromptu lover of that one night stand, but on the other hand she was starting to remember what had happened before she went up to the room with that man.

Sitting at the table of a large restaurant with other wedding guests, Loreley had been nibbling at a slice of wedding cake when he, with a glass of champagne in one hand and a chair in the other, had sat down opposite her, beside his friend Steve.

"Everyone at this table has found their other half, even Hans and Esther, and I'm the only one left," he said, accompanying that last sentence with a sip of champagne, as if to congratulate himself.

"I’d advise you to stay single for a while longer," was Steve's joking response.

"I tell myself that too, you know, every day, so I don’t forget it. No romantic commitments for the next few years. I've had enough of them!"

Loreley had felt slightly uncomfortable and had looked down at her plate, realizing that the man was still hurting because of Esther, who instead looked like a bride who was happy with her choice. He had not shown any emotion all day, but then the champagne must have lowered his guard.

"You're actually not the only single sitting at this table... or don’t I count?" Lucy, a curvaceous blond, had corrected him. "Unlike you, though, I still continue on my way, despite everything..." She had emphasized the last two words, as if to make it clear what, or rather, who she was alluding to with that "despite everything."

"I’ll bet you do, I’ve never had any doubts about that!" the man had replied, sarcastically.

A frown of displeasure had appeared on the young woman's face: "Always better than feeling sorry for yourself!"

Loreley had found it hard not to giggle. Lucy enjoyed provoking him whenever she had the chance and he reciprocated as best he could, considering that he was not usually the type to be disrespectful towards women. For some reason, the girl always turned their approaches into skirmishes. It had become a ritual by now, their only means of communication, and if they had changed this habit, Loreley would have been astonished and perhaps even a little disappointed.

When she had seen Lucy leave the table to go and join the dancing, the man had turned his attention to her, and she had kept him company with a couple of after-dinnerdrinks, forgetting she should not mix painkillers with alcohol.

In those last frantic days spent helping Esther with the preparations for the wedding and discussing the Desmond case with her boss for the umpteenth time, the pain at the back of her head had given her no respite. The icing on the cake had arrived two days before the wedding when her fiancé had phoned from Los Angeles to inform her, as if it were no big deal, that he couldn’t be with her for the wedding. The ensuing argument had accentuated her headache and she had been forced to take the medication on several occasions.

There was still a dark chasm in her recollections, between the time the newlyweds had left the restaurant followed by festive exclamations of good wishes, to when she had woken up in the middle of the night in a room on the upper floors of the hotel. A hole where there were only flashes in which she saw herself naked, wrapped around a man with tanned skin crushing her against the bed under his body as he caressed and kissed her.

Then, total darkness.

And him again, rolling over and putting her on top of himself, straddling him. She remembered his feline eyes that announced passion and the sly smile on lips that invited her to abandon herself to any unspoken desire.

And again, total darkness, followed by a befuddled awakening... and that unspeakable reality.

2

What would happen once John got home? Was it necessary to confess something to him when she didn't even know how it had happened? Was sincerity at all costs essential to keeping their co-habitation alive in the best possible way?

Questions that came back to haunt her even when she was driving through the Manhattan traffic. Questions that instilled doubts in her which she had never had before, undermining her few certainties. After all, she was only twenty-eight years old with little experience in couple relationships to be certain she had the right answers.

The sound of her cell phone drew her attention. She pressed a button on the dashboard and activated the speakerphone.

"Hello, Loreley. How are you?"

"David!" she said happily. "What a pleasure. I haven't heard from you in a while."

 "Yes, you’re right, but you could have called me too."

"You know, I’ve been very busy, and Hans' wedding took everything out of me, including the desire to get married should John ever ask me one day."

She heard a short laugh at the other end of the phone. "Still the same old story of the fox that can't get to the grapes..."

"Don't make fun of me, come on! Do you have anything to tell me, instead?"

 "Yes... there is something."

"Don't string it out!"

"It's something serious and I'd rather talk to you about it in person if I can..."

«All right, I'd love to spend some time with you."

"If you’re free, we could get together tomorrow afternoon, at your place."

"Let's make it three o'clock?"

"Three o'clock."

Loreley ended the conversation wistfully recalling David's gentle, smiling face. She missed the days she had spent with him, especially their university days, and the lovely carefree moments he had given her.

All things pass and as often happens, the most beautiful things are also those that last less time.

She slammed her foot on the brake and cursed, clutching the steering wheel. The car in front of her had slowed down abruptly and she had narrowly escaped running into the back of it.

For the life of me! She usually kept at safe distance, so stopped for a few moments to take a deep breath. As soon as she heard cars honking behind her she drove on again.

Everyone is in such a hurry! Sometimes she longed for her beloved Zurich, with its order and tranquility. So different from electrifying and hectic New York.

A light rain began to tap on the windshield. She scowled: she had forgotten to bring an umbrella. And yet she knew that in October the weather was unpredictable.

***

The following afternoon Loreley left the house dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a shirt of the same cloth and colour. Her friend David was waiting for her outside the front door.

As soon as she was close to him, she threw her arms around his neck and held him close for several seconds.

"You are enthusiastic!" he began, hugging her in turn.

"We’ve never been apart for so long," she defended herself pulling away. "Where would you like to go?"

"It's a lovely sunny day, we could walk for a while."

 "Okay!"

Loreley adjusted her bag on her shoulder and took him by the hand, but after a few steps she stopped him. "Don’t dare put your hand near your wallet," she said, raising her index finger at him. "I'll take care of it today, okay?"

"Well, what an effort for someone like you!"

"What would you be implying?" she asked, hands on hips. "I'm waiting."

"Your family’s... well, they do alright."

"They’re wealthy, you can say it. But this has nothing to do with me."

"I know, Loreley, don't get angry, I was just kidding."

"Let's not talk about that and relax a bit. Whatever you want to do is fine with me."

David had nothing particular in mind. They left the car and walked to Corona Park. It was quiet that autumn day, immersed in a light blanket of silence and a thin veil of fog. There were carpets of multicoloured leaves underneath the almost-bare trees, accentuating the languid nostalgic charm of autumn, despite the flowers which were still blooming in colours from deep yellow to violet.

They could have chosen to walk in Central Park, which was larger and not far from her home, instead of crossing the entire Borough of Queens, but she knew David didn't like places that were too big and crowded. To tell the truth, nor did he like going to places where wealth, and especially those who flaunted it, were in the majority, she thought, as she walked by his side. She was his only well-to-do friend.

When their legs began to ache with fatigue, they took a break and sat on a wall near the Unisphere, a huge steel monument depicting the terrestrial globe. Loreley chatted about her brother's wedding and what had happened the night before, though she did not reveal the name of the man with whom she had shared a bed. She still didn’t feel ready for that, even to her friend. He seemed to understand because he avoided asking her about him, but a frown had appeared on his forehead that had not been there before.

"I know what you're thinking," she said, looking into his cerulean eyes, that seemed to scold her. "I'd could slap myself. Johnny doesn't deserve it, and I don't know how to get out of it without hurting him."

"You can’t decide whether to tell him or not, can you?"

"I'm scared he won't forgive me. And I don’t have the courage either..." She looked away for a few moments.

"If he knows you as well as I do, he’ll realize that you would never have ended up in that bed if you’d been sober."

“You make it sound simple!”

David looked at her annoyed. "It's never easy. Do you think it didn't cost me a lot to confess my betrayal to you? I was so afraid of losing you forever, even as a friend. But then you understood..."

"I was upset all the same, even though I tried not to show it. I didn't want anything to do with men for years after that, and all that counted for me was studying and skating."

He sighed. "It's been a long time, but I can see you still get upset when we talk about it."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, David..." She stroked his cheek. "I’m not upset about the past. I’m upset about the present."

"I just told you how I feel about it.”

"I'll think about it, I promise,” she reassured him, wanting to be done with that embarrassing topic.

Best to talk about something else.

 She looked at him as if she had just remembered something important. "Speaking of confessions, you haven't told me the news you mentioned on the phone." She moved into a more comfortable position. "I’m here and I promise I’ll listen to every word you say."

She saw him calm down and smile.

Sitting down beside her, David let a few seconds pass, and then blurted out his happy news. "After a long time... and much searching, I think I've found the right person. In a few months, maybe we’ll go and live together."

She opened her eyes wide. "Oh my God, you don't know how happy I am!" She clapped her hands and hugged him, jubilant. "What’s his name?"

"Andrew. We met in the clinic when he brought his dog to me for treatment."

"I'm really happy, you know?"

"Thank you! I feel a little scared though."

"I know what it’s like, especially at the beginning."

"That's why I wanted to talk to you about it. I wanted to know how you got on with John. What it feels like."

"Well... I can tell you that I felt awkward at first and I didn't quite know how to behave. I was afraid that everything I did might bother him. I had to stay calm, be understanding and have a flexible mind to accept his way of doing things and his way of thinking. Sometimes I wanted to slap him, sometimes I wanted to hug him. One day I would thank heaven I’d met him and the next day I’d wish I never had. More than once, you'll feel like you can't make it and you’ll yearn for your lost freedom, but I can assure you that everything settles down eventually. You just have to really want it."

"Is that how you felt with John?" he interrupted, astonished.

"I can guarantee you that I don't regret it at all." As she answered, she wondered why, if she really didn't regret it, she was unable to take on board what she had just said to her friend, to reassure herself as well.

"That's good enough for me." David laughed cheerfully and took her hands. "Things will work out for you too, you’ll see; you just have to really want it, right?”

"You're such a..."

He put a hand over her mouth. "Ahhh... you mustn’t say certain things." She smiled at him. "Now it’s best if we go and get something to drink."

After a cool drink and a quick visit to the Science and Technology Museum, they decided it was time to look for a quiet place to dine. The sun was giving way to the moon, which soon appeared like a spotted disc of light and shadows, occasionally obscured by clouds.

They ate a light dinner of only two courses and a small portion of cheesecake. Fortunately, the temperature hadn't dropped, so they continued to wander through the streets of Manhattan until well past midnight. Feeling guilty about keeping him up late, Loreley decided to ask her friend to stay with her so she could enjoy his company for a while longer.

***

She was still lazing in bed when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned over and opened her eyes a little, expecting to see David, but the eyes looking at her at that moment were too dark to belong to her friend who had blue eyes.

"Johnny!" She pulled herself up, leaning on her elbows. "When did you arrive?"

"I sent you a message last night, didn’t you get it?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't notice."

"Too busy doing something else, huh? I ran into David in the living room. He was leaving."

"We spent the afternoon together yesterday and it got late so I put him up here at home." She sat up on the bed. "I’ll go and say goodbye to him."

"Forget it." He held her by the shoulders. "He told me to say goodbye to you. He was in a hurry."

She was about to protest, but John leaned over her and closed her mouth with a long kiss. Putting an arm around his neck Loreley returned it.

When she saw him pull away to quickly take off his clothes, she slipped out of her short nightgown, putting her body with its delicate skin on display.

"I wanted to take a shower, but now..." he said to her.

Loreley looked closely at him. His hair was untidy, and his face appeared strained, like someone trying to regain control of his senses. His dark eyes seemed to be urging her to make a quick decision. Opening her lips in a mischievous smile she held out her arms towards him, grabbed him by the collar of his unbuttoned shirt and pulled him close to her.

They would certainly be skipping breakfast that morning, and maybe even lunch, but right now she didn’t care, she needed her man.

When John had fallen asleep, she slipped out of bed, put on a black satin robe, picked up her cell phone, and went downstairs to the living room. Sitting on the couch she made a call.

"Hey, Loreley!" David's voice was as cheerful as ever.

"I'm sorry about this morning...”

"It doesn’t matter. I was surprised to see him come in, and a little embarrassed, as he was too, so I thought it best to get out of your hair quickly. I'm sorry I couldn't say goodbye."

"Me too. But I still don't know what to do..."

"We talked about it yesterday. I'm sure you'll do the right thing."

On the other hand, she was not sure, though. "Promise you’ll come and see me again soon."

"Of course. Maybe you can come over here to me."

"I’ll think about it, I promise."

"I’ll take your word for it. See you soon, then."

"Enjoy your Sunday, David."

Before Loreley had time to finish the call, John appeared wearing a grey tracksuit.

"Up already?" she remarked, believing that he had fallen asleep. "How are your parents?"

"They're fine. Mom has her usual aches and pains, but nothing serious."

"And your daughter? I imagine she was jumping for joy at seeing you again."

He nodded, smiling at her.

"I'd like to go with you someday to meet them."

The smile quickly vanished from John's face. "I’m going out for a run. I hope you don't mind."

Loreley was disappointed but tried not to show it. "No, no, go ahead. Are you actually able to jog?" she asked, astonished that he had so much energy left.

He smiled again. "Of course."

"When you get back, we’ll have something to eat, and if you haven’t collapsed with a heart attack, we can go out somewhere."

"If you’re doing the cooking, it’s more likely I’ll get a dose of food poisoning and then we won’t be going anywhere."

She picked up a cushion off the couch and threw it at him.

John dodged it and left the house laughing.

Left alone, Loreley went into the kitchen and got to work at the stove, even though she already knew he would not be enthusiastic about the result.

She had met Johnny when she was doing her internship. He was with Ethan who had introduced John as an old friend. His attractive face, dark eyes and his kind and at the same time cheeky attitude had struck her immediately; but she had no way of getting to know him better until she met him again one afternoon in the parking lot near the law firm.

Her car would not start, and after a few futile attempts she got out of the vehicle furious and cursing like a man. Then she saw him, leaning against the trunk of the car with his arms crossed, watching her amused.

Without beating about the bush, she had asked him if he was going to help her or just stand there enjoying the show. Johnny had held out his hand, as if asking for the keys. She had looked him straight in the eyes and handed them to him, albeit with some reluctance.

A few minutes later the engine was turning over again.

"What can I do to repay you?" she had asked, relieved.

"You could put your bank account in my name,” he had said, getting out of the car to give her the driver's seat.

"Or?”

He looked at her like someone who already knows he has won.

"Come to dinner with me tonight."

And that was when it had started.

3

Ethan went past her almost running, as if he were in a hurry to leave the office. "Hey, Loreley!"

She was leafing through a file and stopped to look at him from over her blue-framed glasses. There was a dark trench coat hanging over his arm and the ever-present hat in his hand, a sign that he was going to court or to some client.

"The boss wants to see you in his office," he said, looking sorry for her.

"Are there problems brewing?”

"I'm not sure, but when he asked me to send you in to him, he had this strange little smile..."

"Not looking good for me, then; how much do you want to bet on it?"

"I only gamble if I'm sure of winning. But I must run now. Good luck." And with that, he winked at her and disappeared through the door.

Loreley sighed. Kilmer would be dumping a problem on her soon, she thought, heading to the office next to hers.

When she went in, he was sitting at his desk dressed in a dark gray suit. He gave her a half smile, which was more like a smirk, and handed her a folder which she took without taking her eyes off his face.

As she read the fewnotes inside it her anger mounted, but she continued, trying hard to remain impassive. She had already heard about the murder, near her parents' home, on the news the day before and had been surprised and disgusted at the cruelty of it. She knew the victim's family by sight, a retired business couple who had only one daughter, and the thought of having to defend the person who had snatched her from them was enough to tie her stomach in knots.

The boss was staring hard at her, almost as if to challenge her.

"Why do I have to take this on?"

"Ethan is following another case and Patrick is sick. Furthermore, the guy who contacted us to give us the job wants you; evidently he prefers women." He sniggered, but immediately became serious again. "Sorry."

You’re not sorry at all!

Kilmer leaned back in the black leather armchair, which creaked under his weight. "If you need a hand, don't hesitate to let me know," he continued in a friendly voice, but which immediately sounded false to her.

He could forget that! Loreley thought. She closed the folder and held it tightly.

"Come and see me if you finish before we close for the day, and you can give me an update."

Of course! You can count on it! She would make sure she was late, she told herself, nodding at him.

"Hurry up then, your new client is waiting for you."

With a forced smile, just like the one he had given her when she came in, Loreley walked out of the room, her back straight and a sure step, looking confident and composed; but she had a great desire to kick that fat butt of his.

***

Having to defend what she considered indefensible had never been in her plans, nor did she consider it a means of getting ahead in her career, so the case she had been assigned was hard to swallow. If only she could refuse it, but she had already lost face when she had refrained to assist Leen Soraya Desmond, so she could not back out yet again. Kilmer would be furious and would jump on it as the perfect pretext to kick her out of the firm. She had always felt that he had a certain prejudice towards her, but in recent times it had become worse.

Her boss was demanding increasing commitment from her, more than he asked of Ethan, and she suspected that the motivation stemmed from the fact that she was privileged by birth, a girl who only had to ask and it would be given. He, on the other hand, had been forced to work hard for thirty years to attain a certain position and a decent bank account.

Thus, the day before, she had been forced to accept that thankless job, and it had kept her awake late into the night.

What technicality could she call upon to prevent her client ending his days in prison? A 31-year-old man who had beaten his partner to death leaving her agonizing on the floor of the house, then going off as if nothing had happened. How many cases like this must she see in courtrooms? It was not for her to judge, but how could she prepare a good defence, based on reciprocal trust with her client, if she herself felt no empathy for that individual, nor any kind of compassion?

Sometimes she wondered if it had been a mistake to choose the career of criminal lawyer. Perhaps it was not suitable, she should have chosen civil law; or maybe she was just going through a period of confusion, in conflict with her own work. Who knows?

But if she wanted to become a good lawyer, she knew she needed to toughen up.

 In the interview room, her client had claimed that he had only slapped the girl and did not kill her. Just before he left the house, he had seen her touch her cheeks, in tears. She was alive and angry.

A murderer who declared he was innocent, however, was nothing new.

The waiter put the coffee she had ordered on the table, bringing Loreley's attention back to where it was before: the newspaper that had printed the article about that misdeed. The names of the accused and his defence lawyer, her, were also included were.

What perverse emotion drove a man to beat to death the woman he said he loved? Or to want to keep her tied to him at all costs, when instead all she wants is to be free?

She had heard so many stories like that and there were certainly others who were still silent because the victims often just put up with it, most of the time out of fear, but in some cases because of a penchant for submission. She recalled a friend from her university days who had saved herself only because she had reported her boyfriend in time and then had turned to a psychologist to overcome her addiction.

How long can a victim be considered just a victim and not also accomplice, because she accepts to endure the violence in silence? Luckily, things were changing, but not fast enough. Not yet.

With a gesture of frustration, she turned a couple of pages and stopped when she saw a short article with the image of a tall guy with brown hair coming out of the theatre beside a beautiful red-haired woman.

Her hands trembled. Him again!

Since that man had almost died at the hands of his ex-wife, his notoriety had taken a huge leap, and he was now known even to people who had never seen him.

Not stopping to read the short piece, she closed the newspaper and threw it onto the empty chair beside her.To hell with him!

She was feeling the need to get rid of her tension, and the only thing that took her mind off work was ice skating. Yes, of course, why not? It was a while since she’d been there.

Finishing her coffee, she paid and called a cab to take her home to get what she needed. She asked the taxi driver to wait for her downstairs and in less than an hour she was at Chelsea Piers, on the Hudson River Park.

It was that very place where she had put the blades on her feet for the first time, a day she remembered very well, because it had given her a taste of what it meant to fall down and have to get up again despite the fear. She had fallen in love with the sport immediately and had become an excellent skater, winning a few local competitions along the way. But then with university she had been forced to cut back on training and after the accident had not competed again. The return to skating had not been easy. She was terrified she might have another bad fall and it had blocked her. It had taken several months before she was able to get back on the ice.

But she had won that battle.

She put on a tight-fitting full-length jumpsuit, of black stretchy water-repellent fabric, and began to wind the boot laces around the hooks. She had almost finished that tedious but important operation when her work phone rang.

The urge not to answer was so great that, before pulling it out of her backpack, she sat there for several seconds listening to Khachaturian’s "Sabre Dance”. Would she let it keep ringing until it stopped? But the new case required her to be available all day.

There was an unfamiliar number on the display.

"Hello, Loreley. Am I interrupting you? Are you working?"

"No, no..." she replied, trying to figure out who that male voice belonged to. She didn't want to risk making a fool of herself, but at that moment she didn’t recognize it as anyone she knew.

"If you have an hour to spare, I’d like to talk to you. It wasn’t possible the last time we saw each other."

"Actually, I'm really busy and…" she stopped. "Sonny?!"

She uttered that name, letting out all the air in her lungs.

"I'm sorry, I was assuming you would have recognized me."

"We've never spoken on the phone; your voice sounds a little different."

There was a brief embarrassed silence, then he spoke again: "Maybe I shouldn’t have called you."

"No! You just caught me off guard. I'm at the Chelsea Piers ice rink." She had never given him her number. Oh, but he had called her work number, which anyone could find on the internet.

"Are you with someone?"

"No, I’m alone," she replied, repenting it instantly. If she wanted to avoid that man, she should have said something else.

"Then I can join you if you like. I'm not far from Chelsea, I could be there in twenty minutes."

Loreley took a moment to reflect. It was going to happen sooner or later, so best to get it over with now, so she could get on with her usual life.

"You'll have to rent some skates, because I'm just about to go onto the ice." If he didn’t know how to skate, it would be fun to see him suffer a little.

"I realize that. I'm on my way."

With her hair tied in a ponytail and shields on the blades, Loreley left the locker room and made her way to the rink.

When she saw that the ice had just been smoothed, she smiled with satisfaction but hoped there would be fewer people on it, especially less children… they would make her apprehensive. It had been while trying to avoid a child that she had fallen. The resulting concussion and trauma to the cervical vertebrae had diminished her sense of direction and although she had long since healed, the pain at the back of her neck persisted.

She removed the shields from the blades and slid lightly over the immaculate surface for a few minutes, letting herself be carried away by the music. The chill of the ice under her feet rose and enveloped her whole body, but it was like a pleasant embrace, sometimes electrifying and at others relaxing.

After performing some warm-up exercises, she amused herself with some cross-steps and simple figures, and then tried some jumps. She finished with a few spins of medium difficulty, but went no further, not wanting to hurt herself.

The music became slow and gentle, as if wrapping itself around her. She lifted her face, gave herself some momentum and raised her arms to shoulder height, then lifted one leg behind her in the Angel pose. As she glided over the ice, with the cool air brushing her skin and lifting her long blonde ponytail, a whirlwind of sensations seemed to direct her towards nothingness, towards an infinite quiet.

Suddenly she became aware that she could collide with the people around her and opened her eyes. A hand touched her outstretched arm; she turned, straightened up and put her raised foot back on the ground.

"Oh... you've arrived!"

"I didn't want to interrupt you," Sonny said. He had appeared beside her almost like magic. Wearing a heavy jacket, a scarf and wool beanie, he skated beside her try to keep up with her.

Loreley slowed down. "Don't apologize, I shouldn’t have been doing certain things with all these people around." She usually skated at times when she knew there would be very few people on the ice, but that afternoon she hadn’t been able to respect that logical caution.

A little boy darted past, almost touching her, and she swerved to the opposite direction, going closer to Sonny, who put a hand on her shoulder as if to protect her. "Let’s not stop here or we’ll be run over," he suggested, looking around.

"I'd rather we didn't stop at all..." Saying that, Loreley accelerated leaving the man behind her and went to the opposite side of the rink, where the large windows offered a lovely close-up view of the Hudson River and the pier where the sports center was located.

Sonny watched her perform a slalom to get past the skaters she encountered along the way. He could easily have reached her in a few seconds but preferred not to follow her. It was clear that she was trying to postpone the moment when they would have to clarify things between them, and he didn't want to put too much pressure on her.

What would he say to Loreley? That he was sorry he’d had sex with her? Would she have believed him? He didn't believe it either. Although he did not remember exactly everything that had happened, he knew that he had never given as much vent to his basest instincts as he had that night; perhaps because he was not very sober, but that mattered very little now. What bothered him most was something quite different.

Among all the women at the wedding, I took Hans' sister to bed of all people!

He’d been drinking, but he wasn’t so drunk that he didn't know who the woman was that he was dragging into the room. So why her? If Hans found out, he would not believe it was a coincidence; no, he would have accused him of doing it on purpose.

He shrugged. Who cares!

Loreley was an adult. And she had been consenting, drunk but consenting and a participant too. No one could have blamed him, and he was wrong to create problems for himself, especially since she had sneaked out of the hotel room without even waiting for him to wake up, without exchanging a single word with him.

That morning he had struggled to piece together everything that had happened; at first he had felt relieved that the girl had vanished, thus avoiding to have to give and receive explanations, but then he told himself that until they had spoken there would always be something outstanding.

He went to the side of the rink and waited for her to join him, giving her a lovely smile.

"How many years have you skated?" he asked her.

"I started figure skating when I was five years old, but I gave it up in my first year of university. Every now and then I come here to take my mind off things and get a little exercise. It's not healthy to sit for hours in an office or in a courtroom. Besides, I like skating too much. What about you?"

"I used to play hockey when I was little more than a kid. But I stopped a long time ago to dedicate myself to music."

"You wouldn't think so, to look at you."

"I think it's like a riding a bike. You get back on it after a long time, and it’s like you’d been riding it just a few days ago. Now we should go and talk somewhere else; maybe we can get a drink here at the bar."

4

With her backpack on her shoulders, Loreley headed to the exit from the sports centre. She had freshened up and taken her hair out of the ponytail to hang loose on her shoulders.

After returning the locker keys to reception, she went into the vast colourful lobby where Sonny would be waiting for her. And there she stopped.

Sonny was busy with two young men who were asking him to put an autograph on their skates, and a girl was wanting to take a selfie with him. Someone had recognized him even without his trademark ponytail at the nape of his neck, wearing a woollen hat and a scarf covering his goatee. When she had invited him to join her at the ice rink she had not taken into account that, after the recent events, Sonny's face had been published in several magazines and newspapers.

This is not what we needed!

If she walked out of there with him, there was the risk that a curious fan might immortalize them together, and the next day she would find herself on social media, complete with allusions of a possible relationship. Maybe Johnny would have believed it, and that was the last thing she wanted.

She thought about it for a few seconds then, deciding she should escape, she joined a small group of people who were on their way out. Before closing the glass door leading to the garden, she turned to Sonny, who was now looking at her confused, still holding the marker pen he had used for the autographs.

The brunette at his side pointed to the surface of the skate where he was to sign, but he ignored her and kept staring at Loreley.

She shook her head a little.

I'm sorry, Sonny! shesaid to him barely moving her lips and opening her arms in a gesture of resignation. We’ll do it some other time. Then she quickly went out and did not slow down until she was a good distance from the blue and red building. 

There was a small park next to the sports centre, and although the day wasn't exactly ideal for a stroll, she stopped there for a while. Large clouds covered the sky, heralding a downpour, and the air was already damp, but she didn't mind if she got wet.

The meeting with Sonny had upset her. She kept telling herself that she had to forget what had happened between them and get on with life as usual, but she just couldn't. In any case, she cared too much about Johnny to risk losing him because of a stupid drunken escapade. She had to do something about it before it was too late. But what could she do?