How To Hide A Body

(Almost) Faking My Death

I stuffed my oversized bag into the overhead compartment and then sat down relieved, happy I had made it on the plane without being stopped by security. Of course, I had travelled with weapons, explosives and poisons in my luggage many times before; it was just so much effort disguising them as non-dangerous objects. For example, my handgun had to be disguised as a makeup bag, and the paperwork I go through to get a fake passport! Ridiculous! 

I glanced at the Duty-Free, as a stewardess handed me a glass of sizzling champagne. My first class seat was easier to arrange than my passport, surprisingly. It was a short flight, but why fly uncomfortably, when you can just hack the system and eliminate one of those first-class multi-millionaires? After waiting for the rest of the passengers to board the aircraft, the plane took off. Bart was sitting in front of me, and he was doing a great job of pretending not to know me. I trusted him a lot, and this trip was going to be very lonely alone. I unhooked my tray, and took out my notepad and started to draw up what I knew about this blackmailer.

1. I knew he had a girlfriend who couldn't cook.

2. I knew he was intelligent and cunning.

3. I knew he was powerful.

But how was that helpful?

I glanced out the window, seeing a magnificent sunrise, clouds flying over the horizon. Suddenly my phone vibrated, although it was on Airplane Mode and my Cellular Data was switched off.

Beautiful, isn't it?

My blackmailer. Always one step ahead. Was he on the flight? Had he hacked any cameras?

Wonderful. Thank you for giving me a reason to go to Paris. I said, sarcastically. I can never let him believe that he is getting to me. Otherwise, I give him more power, which he already had too much of.

You will be going to better places than Paris if you follow my instructions. If you don't, you will be experiencing a fate worse than death.

A typical threat. If I had a dollar for everytime one of my clients had come to me, with a threat like that, I could've afforded the seat I was currently sitting in. It was always, "follow my instructions and you'll survive blah blah blah". After a while, it wasn't scary or threatening at all. My only thought was: how original!

Whatever. I responded.

Then the stewardess tapped me on the shoulder, "Chicken, Beef, or Vegetarian?"

"Chicken, please, " I said.

I closed my laptop and put it on the side. I carefully peeled back the aluminium foil covering the hot meal, only to grimace, wrinkling my nose up in disgust, and replacing it. Instead, I ate the roll with some cheese and then attempted to sleep. I hated aeroplane food, that's why I would usually smuggle in some food that isn't suited for the lowest of the low. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are now descending. Please fasten your seatbelts as we reach our destination, " the pilot said through the speaker.

I awoke, quickly gathering all my stuff, and putting my shoes on again.

"Enjoy the flight, Ingrid?" The guy across from me asked.

"I hate aeroplanes, but I love Paris. Can't sacrifice one without the other. How did you know my name?'' I asked him, peering over at him curiously.

He was wearing a business suit, so obviously in Paris for business. I zoomed in on his fingernails, manicured and yellow. So rich and a smoker. He had some broccoli stuck between his teeth, so he took the vegetarian meal, so there was a big chance he was vegetarian. He had a tan, so he hadn't come from England directly. His accent was somewhat American, so he must have taken a flight to England, then to Paris, where he was going for some meeting, where he would have smoked before entering, and wouldn't eat at the meeting, because how many sessions offered vegetarian meals?