REMEMBER, ANY SIMILARITY BETWEEN THE IMAGES AND THE DESCRIPTIONS CONTAINED IN THE
STORY ARE PURELY COINCIDENTAL!!
PART 5 - THE PARTY
Friday Evening
The modelling agency she worked for was small and intimate. They had these get
togethers every six months just to enjoy themselves and improve morale. A lot of the
models would be abroad on jobs but those in London would be expected to join in the
frivolities.
This time the
party was being held in one of the fashion houses. She looked around the room at her
fellow party goers and an attempt to imagine any of them as gun wielding assassins failed
no matter how vividly she tried to picture them in her imagination. There was Estelle,
blond, slim, beautiful making the rounds and ingratiating herself with potential clients.
Across the room she saw Madelaine, dressed as usual in designer leather gear and acting
the life and soul of the party. Other women had questioned whether she was altogether
straight but she had never had any problem with her At this moment Madelaine was engaged
in conversation with Mirelle, her face rarely seen but her legs adorning every tights
advert in the western
world. Then there was Gisela affectionately known as ‘Brains’
after she had surprised everybody at a previous do by revealing that she was studying for
a university degree in mathematics. Who would have thought an intellect existed under that
expanse of hair was the general opinion There were a few more models new to the
business obviously hoping to impress the selected guests invited to these functions but
nobody she had ever seen before.
Then her eyes slipped to Amanda. There she was, as frumpy as usual, cradling her drink
and barely able to exchange a word with anyone. Amanda worked in the office booking
appointments and always looked so miserable and out of place at these gatherings. She
looked at Amanda a bit more closely. She decided that Amanda could be very nice looking ,
if only she didn’t wear such boring clothes and would take the trouble to make
herself up a bit.
‘Go and speak to Amanda , dear. You’re about the only person she speaks to at
these events’. The woman who was speaking to her was a middle aged woman, fashionably
dressed and was also the owner of the agency. Everybody referred to her as
‘Auntie’ Jane and though nobody knew her age everybody thought she was in her
forties but nobody would have guessed this from her appearance and her looks.
She did the
honourable thing, walked over and engaged Amanda in small talk. The fact that her would be
assassin was known to her worried her. Surely it couldn’t be anybody here. Estelle,
Madelaine, Mirelle, Gisela; none of these struck her as a ruthless gun woman. And as for
Amanda and ‘Auntie’ Jane, the idea wasn’t even worth considering. Then
again who would suspect that she was an international hit lady.
Amanda was still twittering on whilst she tried to collect her thoughts. ‘....so
he said he would kill you if that was the case’. She came out of her daze.
‘What did you say?’ she snapped.
‘Michael!’ said Amanda. ‘He said he’d kill you if you were in
London and hadn’t phoned him. I had to give him your hotel number. I hope you
don’t mind’ she added sheepishly.
‘No, of course not. I was a bit busy and forgot to phone him, you did the right
thing’.
‘Michael!’ said Amanda. ‘He said
he’d kill you if you were in London and hadn’t phoned him. I had to give him
your hotel number. I hope you don’t mind’ she added sheepishly
.She collected her thoughts again. Estelle, Madelaine, Mirelle, Gisela,
‘Auntie’ Jane, Amanda or Uncle Steven. One of them would try and kill her, but
which one?
PART 6 - GUNFIRE IN THE DARK
Later on at the party:
‘Oh darling, you look absolutely
ravishing’. It was Madelaine, dressed from head to toe in black leather. In
comparison to Madelaine’s outrageous attire she actually looked quite conservative.
‘Shall we go for a drink after this’ she continued
‘Maddie, you’ve had quite enough to drink. Stop annoying everybody’.
said Mirelle as she scurried over to join them, her long legs shown off to perfection
beneath her short skirt.
Estelle, always one to speak her mind butted in. ‘Still chancing your arm,
Maddie?’. I’d have thought Gisela was more your style, Brains as well as
beauty’.
‘I don’t know what you mean’
‘Of course you don’t’ said Estelle ‘and by the way I’d stick
to soft drinks from now on if I were you’.
‘This is a soft drink’
‘She’s been adding vodka to it’ Mirelle explained hastily.
‘Spoilsport’ said Madelaine.
‘God, no wonder Gisela stays away from you’ remarked Estelle and with a flick
of her long blonde hair she was gone, on her way to chat up another potential client.
‘Bitch’ said Madelaine. ‘Where is Gishh. I mean where is Gisela
anyway?’. Madelaine was beginning to slur her words.
She stared at Madelaine and suddenly noticed how drunk she looked. ‘She left
early. Had some coursework to do. To be honest Maddie I think you had better go to before
you say or do anything unfortunate. I’m sure Mirelle will get you home safely’.
Though she was weaving on her feet Madelaine still had enough sobriety left in her to
realise she was probably right. She gave Mirelle ‘the look’ which made her the
sought after model she was. Tough but vulnerable, provocative but innocent. Mirelle took
her cue and moved towards her.
‘Has anybody told you you’ve got lovely legs’ Maddie said to her.
Mirelle smiled and with the minimum of fuss whisked Maddie out of the room.
Estelle sidled over to her again. ‘No guesses as to where they’ll be tonight.
One drunk and the other so ugly they only photograph her legs’.
‘Maddie was right, you really are a bitch’ she said.
‘Charmed I’m sure. Before you start calling names you should remember who
keeps this agency going’. And once again Estelle turned her back and with a flick of
her long hair was gone.
‘Auntie’ Jane noticed the tension and ambled over. ‘Darling, a word of
advice. Don’t make an enemy of Estelle. She would make a dangerous opponent’.
‘So would I, believe me’
‘I mean it. There are things about Estelle you wouldn’t believe. Don’t
antagonise her’.
Even later....
The party was drawing to a close and she was no closer to discovering who her adversary
was. Maybe it wasn’t anybody in the agency. But if so that only left Uncle Steven
or...
‘Thanks for being so nice to me tonight’. Amanda had the most uncanny knack
of interrupting a train of thought. She looked at Amanda and half felt sorry for the girl.
If only she smartened herself up she could be so much more attractive.
‘Amanda, meet me for lunch next week. I think you and I should go shopping, I need
some new clothes for my next shoot and maybe we’ll find something for you too.
I’ll see you in a sec’ just got to powder my nose’.
In truth she did need to use the ladies room but it also gave her an excuse to collect
her thoughts away from Amanda’s cloying presence. The Ladies room was located some
distance from the party room hidden behind the wardrobe and props area. The lights in
these room had been switched off and finding the Ladies room proved to be quite a feat of
navigation. When she finally arrived she took her time. The break gave her a chance to
touch up her make up and adjust her clothes. She looked at her watch. She had been gone 15
minutes. The party would be practically over by the time she got back.
It was whilst she was walking in the props area that she heard the footsteps. These
weren’t confident footsteps but rather those of an individual who was trying to hide
his or her presence.
She instinctively reached for her leg and found nothing.
Prior to the party, she had decided she would have a difficult job explaining a .22
strapped to her thigh if a client innocently brushed against her. She thought of her
handbag and then she realised her mistake. She’d left her handbag in the toilet.
Suddenly she heard a whoosh and saw the flash of a gun barrel. The bullet thudded into the
wax body of one of the fashion dummies she had been standing next to. It was a good job it
was so dark in here, the assassin had obviously mistaken it for her. The gun flared again
and this time the bullet took the head off the same dummy.
‘God
that was close’ she thought. She did not like the role of being the prey rather than
hunter one little bit. She scurried behind a wooden crate full of fabric offcuts. The
third shot hit the crate. There was virtually no noise, the person must be using a
silencer. Once again she tried to picture her assailant but couldn't. If she was going to
get out of this alive she had to get to her handbag. She decided on her plan and for it to
work she had to be quick and she had to be bold. The room was virtually unilluminated and
whoever was hunting her was obviously having difficulty seeing her. She made her move. A
good push on the row of dummies adjacent to her sent them falling like a pack of playing
cards. In a flash she was sprinting towards the toilet half crouching. She did not have
time to look around as an enormous volley of shots picked off one dummy after another as
they cascaded down the room..
She was relieved to reach the well lit powder room with no discernible injury. She saw
the handbag next to the basin where she had carelessly left it after applying her
lipstick. She reached inside and felt inside for her gun. It felt comforting in her grasp
and now somebody was going to pay for what they had tried to do tonight.
She peered round the edge of the doorway. There was a faint
silhouette barely visible over the expanse of the unlit props room. She fired off a shot
confident about her abilities to hit the target at a mere 20 yards. Pfft went her gun and
a barrage of material flew from the object she had been aiming at. She had hit the target
all right but unfortunately it too was a waxworks dummy. She edged out from the powder
room ready to shoot anything which attracted her attention. She knew however that she was
too late. Whoever had been doing the shooting was a pro like her and wouldn’t have
stayed around too long once his or her initial assault had failed. They had probably made
good their escape whilst she was gathering her weapon from her bag.
She composed herself and prepared to re-join the dwindling revellers at the party.
Something had been bothering her. She hadn’t had a chance to look but there had been
an incredible fusillade of shots as she was running to retrieve her gun. She tried to
recall how many shots she had heard but couldn’t. How did the would be killer shoot
so fast. Maybe her mind was playing tricks, after all you tend to exaggerate when somebody
is trying to kill you but the thought at the back of her mind persisted ‘Maybe there
had been more than one of them’.
By the time she returned to the party it was
almost over. In fact there was just ‘Auntie’ Jane and a man, who had told
everybody he was a fashion editor from ‘This and That’ magazine, left. She went
over to ‘Auntie’ Jane.
‘Where’s Amanda?’ she asked.
‘Oh she left about ten minutes ago’ came the reply. ‘She said she’d
arranged to meet her boyfriend at a club’.
TO BE CONTINUED
