Chapter 43 Ruby

43

Ruby

‘Hi,' said her mom, cheerfully. ‘You never told me about this nice gentleman. A friend of yours, I believe?'

Ruby stood very still in the dark. There was a filleting knife in the kitchen drawer, eight feet behind her. A crack hammer and a crowbar under her bed. She had no weapons on her. Not even a penknife. The man's face was calm. His lips curved into a welcoming smile. His eyes blazed, illuminated by the TV screen. Like the beams of a headlight hitting a big jungle cat's eyes through the darkness.

The man said nothing. He didn't move. His long legs were folded over one another. Sleek black pants, polished expensive leather shoes. Black again, like the rest of the suit. Only a pressed white button-down shirt and dark tie gave any contrast. It was hard to tell in this light, but his hair seemed to be a lighter color, and his skin the same hue as rice paper. So white it was almost translucent. Ruby could see, even in the glow from the TV, thin snakes of blue and red veins in his cheeks.

She had never seen him before. But he knew Ruby.

That is to say, he could see the true Ruby. The real Ruby. She could tell. He was one of those few who gaze right into you. This man, with his pale eyes, could see a black soul beneath a pretty pink sweater. The same feeling she had when Bloch was watching her – it returned now. Only this time it was dialed up to eleven.

‘Aren't you going to say hello?' asked her mom.

She was cheerful, delighted to have had a guest in their apartment. When they first moved here, there were a handful of her mother's friends who wanted to come over and visit. But her mother refused them all. She didn't want them to see how far they had fallen. From West 74 th Street to a two-bedroom, roach-infested apartment in Hell's Kitchen was a long way down. And so, eventually, her mother's friends stopped calling. And Ruby and her mother were alone.

‘Hello,' said Ruby.

The man stood smoothly, with a pleasing and seemingly effortless agility, like a gymnast who is in absolute control of even the smallest muscles. The movement was unnerving and yet marvelous to behold. Ruby felt fear gnawing at her guts. She didn't need to look down to know that her hands were trembling.

‘Your mother and I were just watching one of my favorite movies,' said the man.

‘Mine too,' said Ruby, and he smiled unexpectedly. ‘Yeah,' said Ruby, ‘I love Brando. He deserved the Oscar. Pacino should've won too, for best supporting actor. Joel Gray won for Cabaret . I liked how Pacino gave up his life . . . to protect his family . . .'

As she said that last sentence, she glanced at her mother.

Mr. Christmas acknowledged the subtext with a slow blink of his eyes.

‘Aren't you the cinephile. Your mother and I were just killing time, as it were, until you returned. I made her soup. We ate together. I didn't know what time to expect you, so I didn't fix you a bowl. There is some left over on the stove. For later . . .'

‘I'm not hungry,' said Ruby.

Who the hell was this man? He wasn't a cop. That much was clear.

‘Well, I don't wish to disturb either of you ladies a moment longer. Ms. Johnson, if you and I could just have a word in private? I've told your mom how influential you have been in the neighborhood watch. How we, in West 74 th Street, just couldn't do without you . . .'

Ruby nodded and backed out of the room.

She turned as she heard the man say his goodbyes to her mother.

‘Thank you so much for your hospitality, madam. You have a lovely home. It's been an absolute pleasure to enjoy your company this evening, Mrs. Johnson . . .'

Ruby was ahead of the man now. Maybe five feet. She could make it to the knife drawer in the kitchen. But not without him seeing her. If she was going to get a weapon, now was the time. She could dart into her bedroom and close the door. There was time to do that. The only question was what would happen to her mother if Ruby was safely behind a locked door.

Then she stopped panicking. Started thinking. He wasn't going to kill her tonight. He had spent time with her mother. Cooked her dinner. And they had talked. He seemed to know Ruby had a connection with West 74 th Street, but she wondered how much this man really knew about her.

As Ruby moved through to the kitchen, she noticed two bowls and two spoons on the kitchen draining board by the sink. He'd not only heated the soup, but he'd washed up. Even draped a kitchen towel over the pot to keep flies and whatever else crawled along the kitchen tops out of her soup.

His DNA was all over this apartment. He had not come here to kill her. At least not tonight.

She opened the front door and stepped out into the dim hallway. The motion sensor in the corner wasn't working, and the only light came from the apartment or the open elevator door, but of course the elevator was out of order. Ruby had to feel her way to this floor using the flashlight function on her phone.

She flipped on the flashlight as the man followed her into the hallway and closed the door.

Now that they were alone, and out of earshot of her mother, the man spoke softly.

‘Thank you for playing along with me. I wouldn't want to frighten your mother unduly. She is a remarkable woman, having been through so much.'

‘How do you know what my mom has been through?'

He cocked his head, half smiled at Ruby's question.

‘Before we turned off the lamps, I saw her face. I know the face of a woman who has been beaten for half of her life. I know that you care about her very much and she doesn't have a lot of time left on this earth. That apartment is clean and your mother is well attended to, considering your financial means. Which brings me to the purpose of my visit. My client would like his two hundred and fifty thousand dollars back, if you would be so kind.'

So that's who this man was. A fixer for either Ellis or Bale.

‘I don't know what you're talking about?' said Ruby.

‘Shall I ask your mother?' he said, and this time there was no warmth on his tongue as he spoke.

Ruby stood very still, even though the fear was trying to shake her body. She had to be very careful with this man. Choose her words well.

‘I don't have it,' she said.

‘The money trail went cold after you moved it through Panama. That was clever. But you should have used that bank first. My client has a lot of resources and he was able to trace you very quickly. It's only a matter of time before someone picks up that trail again. People are working on it right now. You haven't cashed it, I'm guessing. I had a look while I made the soup. There's a bag of clothes, tools and burner phones in your wardrobe, so I guess you're getting ready to run, Ms. Johnson. You should perhaps have moved faster.'

‘I couldn't,' she said, and her gaze moved from the ice man in front of her, to the door of her apartment.

‘Your mother?'

‘I spent it,' said Ruby. ‘I've paid for her care at a facility in the city. A nursing home. Retirement community, call it whatever you want. I don't have the money. She's moving . . .'

‘Tomorrow morning,' said the man, cutting her off. ‘Some nice men are arriving to take some of her things and move them to her new home, so she said. I noticed her bag was packed too. While I admire the sentiment, that does put you in a rather difficult position with my client . . .'

His pale eyes seemed to fire red in the torch light.

‘I can get it . . .' said Ruby, sputtering.

‘You are a resourceful young lady, no doubt . . .'

‘Twenty-four hours. I'll have all of it. In cash,' said Ruby, because of course she had another two hundred and fifty thousand in a different account. Ruby had got a quarter of a million in blackmail money from both men. But that was her running money. That was her ticket to freedom, after she'd solved her huge problems.

The man said nothing for a time. He just stared at Ruby. Like a great white shark. Dead eyes. Either he would swim away, or he would take Ruby's head clean off in one bite. He was deciding, right then and there.

Ruby held still. Her body was screaming at her to run. To get back into the apartment. Get a knife. Get a hammer. Defend yourself .

The red priest was beginning to stir. He had lain still, watching all of this in silence. Ruby could hear his voice. A rumble in her brain, his red mouth open, ready to scream . . .

‘I don't normally do this, but I have of late, experienced some degree of alternative working practices. Ms. Johnson, we have an agreement. Twenty-four hours. You will have the money for me, but if you fail then I will make you regret it with every nerve fiber in your body.'

Something inside Ruby that had been holding her up straight seemed to falter and bend at that moment. The relief came quickly and left just as fast.

‘What's your name?' she asked.

The man seemed surprised by the question.

‘You can call me Mr. Christmas. I'll be keeping an eye on you, Ms. Johnson.'

He nodded, and his heels clicked together. Then he moved past her and his heels bounced down the staircase. He didn't look back.

Ruby listened to his shoes on the stairs. Only when the sound had completely disappeared did she let out her breath.