Diary of a Hitwoman (Part 8)

SUSPICIONS

TUESDAY AM... Next day.

The phone in the hotel room rang.

‘Bernice?’ the man said.

‘Brandon, I see we are using our real names today’ she retorted.

‘Well it is Tuesday’ he said somewhat cryptically.

She was annoyed, very annoyed. She had no idea that her contact had been so close to her normal world as a fashion model. She fingered the gun she held in her hands and had a mental image of his smug face transformed into resignation as she administered the Coup De Grace  She had never really liked the man she had now discovered was called Brandon.

‘I told you what would happen if you ever crossed me. You’d better have a damn good explanation of what’s going on here’.

‘How do you think I keep track of where you are? Who do you think tells me when you’re free to carry out your .....how can I put this? Other work’.

‘So dear little sweet Amanda is in on this?’

‘No of course not. I just use her. Amanda wouldn’t harm a fly’.

She had a mental image of Amanda. Shy, slightly naive. Not unattractive but slightly dowdy. Then her mind switched back to the night of the party. Where was Amanda when she had returned from nearly having her head blown off? She looked at the gun in her hands and tried to picture Amanda with it. She tried to picture Amanda fixing a silencer to the gun and waiting in a darkened room for her only friend at the agency parties to appear from the Ladies room so that she could shoot her dead. Bernice had a good imagination but even she couldn’t see Amanda in the role of deadly hit lady.

Then what about Brandon himself? He would certainly know where she would be at any particular time. But why warn her? Then a thought struck her. If he had been planning to kill her where better to do so than a quiet country lane? When she’d met Brandon on the deserted country road she had pulled a gun on him. He never had the chance to fulfill his mission if he was planning to kill her. And what better cover story to spread suspicion with by saying someone she knew was out to kill her? She awoke from her mental trance.

‘Listen to me Brandon and listen carefully, I fly out of the country on Thursday. By then all this will be over. I don’t want to see or hear from you until after I leave. If I see you before then you are a dead man.  Do you understand?’.

‘Perfectly. Off to spend some time with lover boy are you?’.

‘That’s none of your business. By the way, I am deadly serious about what I just said if I see you in the next couple of days I will kill you. Bear that in mind when you’re planning your movements. Just think of what happened in France if you know what's good for you"

The phone went dead. Bernice thought about the shooting at the party a few nights before. She tried desperately to recall how many bullets her assailant had fired into the wax dummies but she couldn’t. She did know that there were an awful lot of them so maybe the idea of there being two killers wasn’t as far fetched as it first seemed or maybe her imagination was just running wild.

The phone rang again and she hurriedly picked it up.

‘Listen I told you what would happen if you tried to contact me. Now get lost’..

‘Bernice?’.

‘Michael!, my God I thought it was someone else. I’m sorry you’ll have to forgive me I’ve been under a lot of strain. Are we still OK for this evening?’

‘Of course. That’s why I phoned, to make sure you were still available’.

TUESDAY PM... Later that evening.

The restaurant was one of the newly opened trendy restaurants which were continually springing up in London. The food was divine and Bernice wore a gown to match the magnificence of the food. She hated ruining the romantic atmosphere but her purse contained a semi-automatic handgun and a small derringer was strapped to her leg. Despite all this, she was going to try and forget about recent events, for tonight at least.

They had had a wonderful evening. Much too good Bernice was thinking to herself, something was bound to go wrong. And at that moment it did - in the shape of Estelle and Gisela, two of her colleagues from the agency. The blonde Estelle and the dark brunette Gisela looked every inch the fashion models they were. They marched straight over to their table and stood looking down at them for a couple of seconds.

Suddenly Michael sprang from his chair and gave Gisela a big kiss. ‘Gisela! It must be two years! My God what a surprise’.

‘Mike! Fancy seeing you here’

‘You know each other?’ Bernice exclaimed.

‘We met at an Open University summer school. You know, my mathematics degree? Mike was in his final year and we just got friendly’. Gisela looked at Bernice. ‘Nothing in it of course, just friends’.

‘Sit down both of you. I rarely meet any of Bernice’s friends’. Bernice had wished he hadn’t said that

Estelle sat down and looked directly at Michael .‘So this is your big secret’ Estelle remarked ‘If it had been me at the Summer School we would have been more than just friends’.

Michael blushed and Bernice swallowed hard trying to control her temper. ‘So what brings you two here?’ she finally managed to utter in her sweetest voice.

Estelle was not taken in by the tone in Bernice’s voice. ‘This is a restaurant my dear, and we are allowed to eat’ she said sarcastically. ‘We saw you some time ago but you wouldn’t have noticed us. The way you’ve been looking into each others eyes all night you wouldn’t have noticed anything’.

Gisela spotted the friction in the air and tried to change the subject. ‘You’ve heard about Madeleine and Mirelle. Maddie has had ‘flu all week and Mirelle has been in very close attendance... if you know what I mean’.

‘What Mirelle sees in that drunken sot I’ll never understand’ interjected Estelle.

‘You can be so insensitive and cruel at times’ said Bernice.

Estelle flicked back her long blonde hair, looked Bernice directly in the eyes. ‘ And don’t you forget it’ she said with great emphasis.

‘Ladies, ladies. End of round one. Lets get in a few coffees and finish the night off nicely ’. Michael had tried to defuse the situation and to a certain extent he had succeeded. After that the four of them chatted about nothing in particular and nobodies sensitivities were hurt. Bernice knew that she would be spending the night alone. Michael had an important business trip and had a very early start in the morning. If things proceeded to plan however, tomorrow night would be a very different matter. She was looking forward to tomorrow night.

Then as they decided to go, something unusual happened. Bernice picked up her purse from the table. By habit she pressed the bottom of the purse and felt the reassuring bulge of the semi-automatic she had placed there earlier.

‘That’s mine’ said Estelle. ‘You’ve picked up the wrong purse. Look they are identical but that purse is mine. I can tell by the nick in the shoulder strap’. Estelle hurriedly swapped purses.

When she arrived back at her hotel room Bernice checked the purse. There was no doubt about it. This was her purse but that just left the question. ‘If this was her purse what on earth was it that was at the bottom of Estelle's’s purse?'.

PART 9 - A NIGHT TO REMEMBER

THURSDAY PM... NIGHT TIME

This was the night she had been waiting for. Her and Michael alone in his flat. Her flight out the next day was not until the late afternoon which meant even after spending the night with him she would have time in the morning to return to her hotel room and collect her things. Their lovemaking that evening had been exquisite and she felt warm and safe cradled in his strong arms.

‘Michael. You and Gisela? You were just friends weren’t you?’.

‘Of course. It was her first Summer School and it was my last and we just hit it off. There was nothing else to it I swear’ he whispered

‘She’s a very attractive woman’.

‘And so are you’.

They lay there together, happy in each others embrace. She grew a little tired and the faces swam before her. Estelle, Brandon, Madeleine, Gisela, ‘Auntie’ Jane, Mirelle, Uncle Steven and Amanda. One of them wanted her dead and one of them had until tomorrow to do it. She remembered the volley of shots at the party and corrected herself. One or more of them wanted her dead and one or more of them had until tomorrow to do it She opened her eyes and looked at her lover. He was dozing gently. ‘Such an innocent’ she thought to herself. She dozed gently again. It was whilst she was dreaming that inspiration came to her.