Blood Diamonds

Scars

Two hours later, Mary, John, and Bernard were on the other side of town, away from the hotel where Guillaume Diefenthal had been murdered.

The street was quiet. A tram passed by, its wheels clattering. The sun broke through the green foliage on the trees.

After leaving the hotel together, they went out into the street and walked to the nearest phone booth. John stood in phone box and spoke with the customer in low voice. Mary and Bernie stood outside near the box. Mary anxiously looked around in alarm and clutched her suitcase to her. Bernie smoked nervously.

Suddenly pigeons fluttered up and away from the sidewalk. Mary shivered, startled by the sharp sound of their wings.

"Mon Dieu!" she whispered.

"What are you so afraid of, huh?"

"Are you kidding me? Have you not seen one of us murdered?"

"Afraid being next? Or afraid being revealed?"

"What do you mean? Revealed? Wait... You think I did it?!"

"Who else?"

Mary was about to launch into an angry tirade, but John came out of the phone box. The girl paused, but continued to glare furiously at Bernie.

"Calm down, my friends," John said.

"What's news?" Bernie asked.

"I've been said that Mr.Taylor are going to arrive next morning. I got us a place to stay for now."

"What place? Your boss helps us?"

"Yes. A flat that was being abandoned by its previous owners long ago. We can stay there, it's safe. No one can find us there."

"We better go," Bernie said. "The manager can find that dead Frenchman at any moment and remember about us."

"Guillaume has used our faked passports, so it's okay. They don't know who we are."

"Yet. Lead the way, John."

They went by the taxi. John gave an address to the taxi driver that no one know except him. They drove in complete silence.

It was a four-story residential building, the most ordinary one. There were plenty like this in Calais. Almost all the windows of the house were lit with warm light, only on the top floor the windows were dark and closed with shutters. They went right to this apartment at the top floor with dark windows. Later, John Smith explained that he had known about this apartment for a long time. It was long abandoned by the previous owners, so if necessary, it was possible to hide here without problems. He had known about this apartment long ago, when he had traveled around Europe, so no one could find them here and they could safely stay here for a couple of days without worrying about anything. No Nazis, no Mr. Adamson, no one.

All the furniture in this apartment stood in the same places where it was left by its old owners. Empty picture frames were propped against the sofas. The drawers of all the cabinets were open, and faded papers lay scattered on the floor. There were dusty dishes on the shelves. The mirrors and glass in the cabinets were covered with a thick layer of dust. It was as if the owners of this apartment were leaving it in a hurry, not really caring about its future. And now there were three friends standing on its doorstep.

John holding two suitcases, one his and the second new one, put down both, wentto the window and opened it.

"Why do we need to hide like the criminals?" Mary asked looking around.

"Like?" Bernie chuckled, walked to the sofa and sat down. "We are criminals."

"We are not killers!"

"Are you sure?"