‘Ah. I know it well. I stayed there too. Could you see Central Park and the Hudson?’
Paul nodded. His face reflected in the blade of the knife and seemed to sharpen his memory of that time. But try as he might, recalling what he did an hour ago was impossible.
Hank told them they could sell anything.
They were invincible.
‘You two can sell water to fish.’
It was exactly what Hank had said.
His blood boiled and he grabbed the knife.
A noise at the door startled them and their attention shot towards the door.
Paul opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. He felt as though his jaw had been hijacked by little workers intent on sealing up the great cavern that had once been his throat. He no longer had the power of true speech.
But he realised that it had gone a long time ago.
The night he agreed to help Sandy rather than Jamie. That was the turning point.
It was all his fault.
‘No, it isn’t, son,’ the man said.
Paul didn’t realise that he’d spoken out loud. The lines between reality and fantasy had blurred and he didn’t know if his words were manufactured or real. He blinked and stared at the man.
‘It’s the detective,’ he said.
Paul tried to think who he could be referring to. Detective?
He couldn’t place anyone matching that description.
Then he heard banging that hurt his head.
It reminded him of the thump of Jamie’s head hitting the floor when he’d fallen from the second floor.
He hadn’t pushed him, though that’s what he’d thought about doing to stop him ruining everything they’d worked so hard for.
‘We don’t own anything, Paul,’ Jamie had said.
‘Value is nothing when it’s given by the devil,’ Angelina said.
Now when he remembered Jamie’s face, it was too painful a memory. He couldn’t bring himself to relive the full reel of images. They always stopped midway through, like some incomplete slice of remembrance.
He recalled somebody else wearing his shoes, his CAT boots, thinking it was peculiar. He also recalled his body lying on Jamie’s bed. It was more comfortable than his own bed in the hotel, and he had felt offended. It fuelled his paranoia that Hank had favoured Jamie all along. Jamie was the brains behind their success. Jamie was defter with the sales teams. Jamie was the one who understood the science. Jamie had been the one to pull the plug.
Sandy had been sent to placate them and offer more money. Money which Paul was desperate to accept. His habits had begun to cost astronomical sums.
The breaking of a window caught his attention and Paul looked to where the noise came from. He covered his face and reached out to feel around the floor to see if he could find something to drink. His thirst was killing him. But he found nothing. His whole body seemed filled with noise and then he felt fingers clawing at his hands.
‘Paul? Paul?’
Layers of reality converged inside his head and his eyes flickered open, and he was able to stare at the light above his head. Beneath that was a man’s face, and he knew he’d seen him before.
‘Paul, it’s Melvin, remember me? Can you hear me, Paul?’
He stared at the older man, who had the same look of paranoia in his eyes as he did when he stared into the mirror in the mornings.
