Tenth Man

by Tamara Sheehan

Chapter 15

Saiid knocked on Bridget’s door about noon, long after Howie had rolled out of the nest of blankets he had made for himself on the couch. He was still in his suit trousers with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and when she opened the door, he smiled and offered her a paper cup of coffee.

“Happy Memoria day,” he said cheerfully.

“Thanks, you too. Nice to have a long weekend. Come on in.”

Saiid hovered in the hallway for a moment. “Jim said you had company last night,” Saiid began awkwardly. “Hope I’m not too early.”

“No, hell no, especially if you’re bringing me coffee.” She drank, stepped back and let him close the door. “This is great. Sorry for the mess. My buddy Howie needed some support, he crashed on my couch last night.” She gestured to the bundle of blankets on the couch as evidence as she passed.

Obvious relief crossed over Saiid’s face. He saw Bridget laugh and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, I just didn’t want, you know, any kind of awkwardness. You know.”

Bridget was smiling, her eyes bright with mischief. “No, what?”

“Well, your reputation. You know.”

She shook her head. Saiid’s face darkened as blood rushed to his cheeks and ears. “How you’re so, you know, proud to be single.” He stood quite still and looked at her. She looked back, one eyebrow raised.

“Too many women my age go to school and then become stay at home moms. Why spend half a mil on school if you’re not serious about it.” She nodded pointedly at Saiid. “I’m just waiting for someone as serious as I am.”

“Me too,” Saiid answered.

At last Bridget let herself laugh. She touched Saiid’s arm and gestured him out to the balcony. “Come on, it’s gorgeous out. Have you been up all night?”

“Got about four hours last night.” Saiid leaned on the rail, the coffee forgotten, his eyes roaming over the black roof tops and back to Bridget. “Articles are great. You want to cry when you’re interviewing, then you want to cry when you’re working.”

“Can’t wait.” Bridget leaned beside him, took a sip from her cup. The coffee was warming her, wicking away the numb fear that had been sitting on her shoulders all night. She looked up at Saiid and started to speak.

A sound of crashing downstairs stopped her. She and Saiid looked over the balcony to see what had fallen. More crashes echoed up the hall.

“Someone moving?” Saiid asked her.

“Not that I know of.”

She abandoned the coffee and stepped back into the apartment. Something was violent going on below. Voices raised, shouting, the sound of wood splintering. She became aware of the pounding in her chest. Her skin felt slick and cold, her hand went to her stomach.

“Sounds serious,” Saiid whispered.

She could feel her limbs shaking with the familiar burst of adrenaline that had made it possible for her to shinny out of the bathroom window the day before. It was hard to think. The sunlight on the walls stood out, the sound of shouting rose.

“I’m just going to go see,” she said.

He caught her arm. “Maybe you should wait till things quiet down a bit. Call the cops.” Saiid’s voice was soft, frightened.

“I just want to see.”

“Bridge-”

Something crashed outside the door of her suite. She jumped, Saiid gripped her arm. The noise in the hall would not stop. It rattled her door on the hinges.

“Bridget, where’s your phone?”

She pointed, turned back to find her door standing open on its hinges and the man who had followed her standing in her hallway.

He was tall and angular, thin and blond. His narrow shoulders were shrouded in a dark jacket, his long legs encased in tube-like trousers. The man that had followed her home. He smiled at Bridget. “Hello pet,” he said in a strange, soft accent.

She shrieked, hands flying to her mouth. Saiid set the receiver down on the table. “I’ve just called the cops so you’d better get the hell out of here.” His voice was impossibly calm. “I’m serious. There’s nothing here for you to steal.”

“Sir,” the pale man said, turning slightly aside. “Saiid Muktar has just called the police and informs me Miss MacCaullen has nothing worth stealing. Do we need to be concerned about that?”

A smaller man rounded the corner of the hall, revealed himself in Bridget’s living room. Audel, pale, point-featured, was smiling benignly. “Hello Mister Muktar. You and Bridget are dating now?”

“No sir.” Saiid let out a surprised exhalation. “Sir, what is going on?”

Audel licked his lips and folded his hands behind his back, like some philosopher facing a student’s earnest question.

“If you don’t mind, Saiid, Bridget and I have a little talk to finish. It got a bit too late to continue last night, didn’t it?”

“You hired him to follow me?” Bridget was regaining some of her composure. Her fear was quickly transmuting into anger. She jabbed a shaking finger at the tall, narrow man. “If I can prove you hired someone to intimidate me-”

“Save your empty threats, girl, I know what you are and are not capable of. We’re here to discuss your friend Saul.” He smiled reasonably at her. “It’s not too late in the day for that, is it?”

Mute, she shook her head.

“Excellent. You know your friend Saul is in a bit of trouble, don’t you? You know he’s got a bit of a dodgy past.” He smiled at Saiid. “Oh, don’t worry about his secret getting out, we can speak in opaque terms and Mister Muktar will be totally baffled for as long as it matters. Now, Saul owes me something and I’ve sent a colleague of mine to collect it from him.”

“And?”

“Well insurance is so expensive these days.” He nodded at Saiid.

“What are you talking about?” she snapped. “Why are you bringing him into this?”

Audel turned over a book on her table. “Cicero. How appropriate. How overblown. Just like a young lawyer.” He nodded mockingly at her and grew serious again. “Saul’s a good man, isn’t he? I mean, he went through that usual teenage spate of gloom and violence, but all in all, he’s a steady young man? Dependable?”

She stared at him.

“Well?”

“Are you mad?” Anger bubbled over, killed the surreality of the scene. “You barge into my home and... and insult my reading material, and then you demand to know about my friend? You can’t threaten me like this.”

“I am not threatening you, Bridget.” Audel said in a very quiet voice. “If you were paying attention as you ought to have been, you would know that.”

She shook her head. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Answer my question first: Is he or is he not dependable?”

“You’re nuts.”

“Yes or no!” he shouted, making Bridget jump.

“Yes, he’s dependable,” she answered quietly. She shared a bewildered look with Saiid. “Did he apply for a job at the plant or something?”

“Not exactly.” He smiled again, settled himself on the couch and began to turn over her papers. He picked up her journal and thumbed through it.

“Do you mind?” she snapped.

He looked up at her serenely. “I’m just amusing myself. Don’t worry, it won’t take long.”

To be continued...