Simple Man

- TWENTYEIGHT -

   It was late and raining outside the Rhode Island apartment Alan Little found himself at as he placed the needle gently on the vinyl record and sighed when he heard Chopins' Nocturne in C Minor Op. 48: no. 1. One of his most favorites, his companion for the evening had refined taste.

   "So haunting." Little said more to himself than his guest but it didn't matter anyway because had he been talking to her she wouldn't have been able to hear much of anything over the sheer volume he had set the record player. Loud enough nosy neighbors wouldn't hear anything unwanted but not so loud it would warrant a noise complaint. Besides screams in a waspy apartment such as this and no less at this hour would be waved off as cries of ecstasy not of anguish.

    Little, however, didn't pay any mind to his companion because he was too busy in his own little world. He elegantly danced in a pair of expensive leather shoes over her hardwood floor as he made his way to the kitchen. He had two wine glasses, a bottle of Chateau Lafite and a cheeseboard at the ready. "Darling did you happen to catch that episode of Fraser last night?" Little yelled over the din of Chopin's expert hands gliding along the piano, "No? Let me guess... you're more a Seinfeld fan?" He laughed at his own question.

"No matter, we'll make a convert out of you yet my dear." Little said as he placed the bottle of wine under his armpit, held the glasses in his left hand and the cheeseboard in his right.

   He felt secure he wouldn't drop anything. The apartment was high up on the ninth floor but not so high that people couldn't see into the apartment. He had closed the curtains to every window that faced another building. He used his elbow to pull back the translucent tarp that was hanging from the ceiling to enter the living room, her turkish rug and hardwood had been covered over by large drop cloth of a similar material. Now that he was closer it was certain he could hear his companions' crying softly through her gag as black streaks of mascara lined her reddened face but nothing registered on an emotional level to him so she might as well have been silent.

    "Cheese?" Little asked as if she didn't have anything in her mouth.

   "I know Beth, we ate some but that charity gala only served those stupid hors d'oeuvres, don't get me wrong they were exquisite but I was still famished by the time we left. Cheese wasn't my first choice but when I saw the selection you had in your refrigerator I couldn't resist. I had to slice up some for us to share, I hope you don't mind." Little said as he sat across from her, crossing his long legs in the process. Immersed in whatever episode of Fraser was playing presently if but for a moment.

    He set down the glasses, the cheeseboard and the wine just to the left of him on his work table. He had cleared the covered area of furniture except for his stool, her chair and the collapsable table he brought with him. Everything else was outside the hanging tarps where no blood could accidentally get on so much at a piece of teak or marble. Little stroked Beth's face. "You're perfection." He breathed as she recoiled at his touch.

"Such wonderful bone structure. Tell me, does your daughter share the same facial symmetry you do? What about your grandsons? Twins aren't they?" Little asked, as he got up to open the wine bottle and pour him and Beth a glass. At the mention of her daughter and grandsons Elizabeth fought the restraints on her wrists and ankles as if to fight him but she couldn't get any closer to him. She fit and healthy for a woman her age but she was already too weak from blood loss.

"Don't worry," Alan said, ignoring her as he examined his instruments, "I don't think you have any information my client needs but Cynthia does doesn't she? I think if I give her a small memento to remember you by she might give up who is overseeing the protection detail of one Miss Kyra Wolfe?"