Blood Born

Chapter 15

15  Home

Arroya, the realtor, was a tall but portly gent with a small moustache.  He was wearing a suit and tie, and walked hunched over somewhat as if he was used to minimizing his height so as not to make others feel small.  Alan was still dressed in much the same way he had been the night before - sans bloodstains, of course - and had no problem walking arrogantly with his nose in the air.  They met at the house on Fell Lane.

Arroya started to explain the circumstances of the sale:  the owner, an American corporation, wanted to divest itself of the property.  There had been a couple living in it that had experienced some marital problems and a murder-suicide had been the result.

Alan expressed his surprise, and Arroya took it to mean that he was less interested in the property.  The agent asked if he wanted to look at some other places instead.

"Not at all," Alan responded.  "I need a place for immediate occupation and the possibility of an estate sale would be great as far as I'm concerned.  I'm not squeamish about the circumstances - it's just a house:  I'm sure the owners would be happy for a quick sale, no matter how unfortunate the reasons for it.  Is the place still furnished?"

As they talked, they started to walk around the house.

"The police investigation is complete but nobody has cleaned up yet.  The law firm that is serving as the executors hasn't arranged those details yet."

He let Arroya know that he'd be willing to bid on the house and all its contents, just for the convenience.  Arroya thought that would be a possibility, but that the executors would have to remove anything that was specifically bequeathed in the will and pass it on.  That would take at most a week to work out.  Alan nodded his assent.

The next hour or so was taken up looking through the house.  The place continued to prompt more memories for Alan, but most of them were simply domestic in nature.  Many of them hinted at the acrimony between Eve and himself.  He remembered arguments, and on one occasion, a violent exchange of blows in the kitchen.  Eve had come at him with a steak knife, following a particularly nasty exchange of allegations.  Unfortunately, he couldn't remember the salient details, which annoyed him.

At the end of the visit, he told Arroya that he would contact him with an offer.  

"What is the seller was asking?"  He inquired.

Arroya told him.  It was a substantial sum, but probably below the market value for the house.  Alan guessed that a quick sale was more important to XenTech than a fully remunerative one.

He departed and drove back to the hotel.  On his way back, he wondered if Cynthea would still be there.  If she were sensible she'd be gone, but then maybe she wasn't the sensible type.

The valet took the car to wherever he parked it and Alan went to his floor in the lift.  When he entered the suite he could smell the aroma of Cynthea's cigarettes, but she wasn't anywhere in sight.  He went into the bedroom to change, not knowing what to expect of the strange Bohemian girl.

Cynthea was lying in bed smoking, absently holding the cigarette daintily between her fingertips.  She had a bottle of champagne on ice and two glasses.  She was wearing a pair of glasses and reading from a book.

"Shouldn't smoke in bed, you know?"  Alan teased by way of a greeting.

"Hi!"  She said smiling and putting down the book.  "I've been waiting for you."  She tapped some ash off into an ashtray.

"So I see.  What have you decided?"  He asked, dropping his coat on a chair and taking off his tinted glasses.

"That you're a fascinating dead guy."  She tossed her hair a little and looked at him with her head tilted somewhat alluringly, as if she were subconsciously offering her neck again.