Bewilderment

Finally there and happy, she entered the third-floor apartment, sweaty and out of breath. He was already waiting for her, hidden behind the black shades of the monochrome curtains and the chirrups of birds in the courtyard.

She set her bag down in the hallway, slipped off her black suede loafers with gold studs, and left her jacket on the bed. She knew he was there, but she desperately tried to push the thought away.

On her way to the shower, she peered at a stack of typical, scaled-down white hotel mugs in the sink, looking like a collision of icebergs. She knew he was smoking on the balcony, preoccupied only with his own thoughts and needing no company. She never smoked, but typical smokers were communicative, cooperative, and compulsive. Not Paul. He didn't need anyone else. Or so he claimed.

He wasn't in bed yet when she emerged from the bathroom. “Still smoking?”

She placed her robe on the black chair next to the bed. Naked, she slipped under the covers.

‘You thought Paul would be here, right?’ A voice carried through the curtains. ‘You thought you'd have casual sex as usual, and then gently and safely return to your perfect city life.’

‘Who are you?’ She asked, without a trace of surprise in her speech.

‘I'm Paul's best friend, Robert.’

‘Where is he?’

In a sudden reflex of fear, Grace grabbed her robe to put it on, confused but determined.

‘He asked me to meet you tonight. He couldn't make it. Probably some business matter.’

Robert looked at Grace, now almost dressed, and continued.

‘You didn't have to do that. He said I could have you if you wanted. He wouldn't need you anymore.’

‘Oh? What makes you so sure?’

‘I don't think a stiff requires anything, do you?’

Grace opened her round mouth wide, then closed it a moment later. Robert's light explanation was off-putting.

She had been married to Jake for ten years and had never wanted to cheat on him. But if she did, she wanted to make sure no one found out.

‘How did he die?’

‘Oh, you don't have to know if you don't want to. The most important thing for you right now is to do what I ask.’

‘What do you want?’

‘You work at City Hall, right?’

‘Yes, so what?’

‘I want to win the next mayoral election. Jobs for the boys, eh? Although, as I've carefully calculated, my entire family won't be enough to get me elected. I need extra support. Can you help?’

‘That depends on whether it's within my power. What will you do if I don't listen?’

‘I'll kill you too. Does that sound clear?’

‘Yes, quite clear.’

‘I want you to eliminate the competition. I want to be the only candidate for this position.’

Robert rose and approached the kitchen cabinet. He found a bottle of whiskey and poured it into a glass. Then he continued.

‘Are you going to work during the election?’

‘Yes, why?’

‘I want you to steal something.’

‘What exactly?’

‘Votes for other candidates, what else? Not much, so that it will feel like I won naturally. Is that feasible?’

‘I assume so. I've never tried, never had to.’

Grace quickly stared at her shoes, as if suddenly remembering something. The floor was bare concrete, without carpets. The last time she'd been here, drab carpets had been on either side of the bed. She remembered it perfectly.

“He had to wrap the body in it. There's no other explanation.” She immediately shrugged, as if it were unwelcome advice. Otherwise, it would have sent tremors down her backbone.

***

On Sunday, Election Day, Grace, dressed in a classic black midi skirt, a white blouse artfully unbuttoned at the neckline, and black heels, stopped at the entrance to City Hall. Half an hour earlier, to calm her nerves, she drove recklessly along the highway in her burgundy Mazda, pondering Robert's words and expectations, however absurd. As a loyal, fully bureaucratic CPA, she intended to implement Robert's plan to save her life. What would happen next, only the devil, or rather justice, knows.

As Grace watched, office workers emerged from all directions toward the colossal building with soaring columns reminiscent of a Greek temple, and the figures blended like a mythical figure. She hoped this feeling would bring her luck in breaking the law. She comprehended the necessity of fighting for her life, and this reason gave her strength.

After her most recent conversation with Robert, she'd considered calling the police, but found no trace of him or his whereabouts. He certainly wouldn't return to the same hotel; that would be too risky. She hoped the election results in a few days would clear up the situation.

She also hoped to escape for a vacation soon afterwards, though that might look suspicious. She planned to use an excuse about a sudden illness of her closest family member. This was her only chance to think things through, as she hadn't had one for a long time. It seemed the most appropriate way to break the impasse in her personal and professional life. Whatever the times held, she had to prepare for the worst and remain optimistic, even if the situation seemed hopeless at first glance.