Eros: A Game Of Wits (A Mafia Novel)

39. Reunions In Hell

***

"So... what do you see, little one?" His voice was gruff.

Although he was young, after a certain age Florence remembered his voice transfigure. It was becoming fruity, man-like. It still held inklings of his old voice that she recalled but way different. She knew he was the same person because she was there to witness his transformation. He had even acquired a few facial hair- not nearly as much as their father but it made a difference. He had also gotten taller, more muscular and his features had become more defined and chiseled.

She was young herself but her brother had held nothing secret. Slowly but surely, he had explained to her. It was part of something bigger. He would take one of them as an example so he could teach her the difference of it all.

Her little eyes focalized, narrowing as they observed in the distance a pair of people walking. Then an old man sitting on a bench, watching a little girl as she played close by. Finally, a few more people were occupying a bench a little further.

She smacked her lips. "Well," she began. "I see a family, I see a grandpa with his granddaughter and a pair of friends." Her feet were swinging up and down as she gazed up at him expecting the praise with a beam.

He looked down at her, not with disapproval. His lips were nothing but a straight line, but his eyes alone were smiling; she could see the crinkles forming around his eyes- a good indication, she mused. Then he raised one eyebrow. Spyros was good at this. He was good at making faces for her to make out what they meant. He had taught her well, but she had much to learn. "Friends..? Family? What gave you that idea, Flo?"

Little Florence pointed a tiny finger. "The old man and the girl know each other," she said in a singsong tone. Glancing at her big brother, she realized he expected more. She played with her fingers for a moment, then continued. "The old man doesn't seem to take his attention from the little girl. The girl doesn't get very far from him and there doesn't seem to be someone else looking at her. She can't be all alone here, so...?" She explained, but there was a flick of uncertainty in her voice now.

The young man took a long inhale and stretched his arms on the back of their own bench. "You're correct, baby sis." Before she could grin at her triumph, he continued, leaning closer to her ear. "However, there's more you must take into account, because sometimes that may not be enough to guess accurately. This little girl could have gotten further from her parents and this old man could easily be looking to kidnap her." Spyros said in a whisper.

He patted his sister's head softly before moving on. "Now, if you observe carefully, the little girl looks back at the man very often, sometimes she smiles and sometimes she points at something for him to look, sometimes she brings him something. She is always staying close to him, never gets too far, but even if she does she continues to glance at him."

She nodded and he kept on. "I want you to notice the man. I want you to keep a weather eyes on him. Notice anything about his posture that is of importance?"

Florence did so. Her green eyes looked keenly at the old man and as she did, she also voiced her observations for her brother to hear. She noted that his hands were outstretched over the bench's back and his feet were down, slightly open.

Spyros scratched his nose, pressing his lips together for a moment before speaking. "You aren't seeing the details little one. You see," he pointed, " his hands are outstretched like that, as you said, which, normally would mean that he is relaxed. However, his feet are down on the ground and if you notice carefully you will see that they point towards the general direction the child is playing but most importantly, you must notice how his back is not completely laid back. His shoulders are tensed upwards and his body is leaning forward." He smiled at her expectantly. "You know why?"