Eye Spy Noir; driving back to NY

“I can understand why Nigel referred to you as ‘feral’,” we are on our way back to Manhattan

“How do you know about that?” I ask after a pause of bemusement

“How do I know? Because I read it in your blog,” he says glancing at me for a moment away from the road

I shake my head,
“well then that would mean....” I shake my head.... “no—wait.... I wrote that in my Nigel entry ....” I look at him; he has his profile turned to me, his aquiline nose in perfect silhouette against the dimming sunlight. I see his nostrils flare —that is all that gives him away

Is he testing me?

“Then you must have been reading my blog....” I stop speaking. I have to breath. I take a moment to configure the chronological time frame

“Before we actually met—“ he turns his head and lets the steel blue of his eyes pierce right through me, almost like supernatural beams of kryptonite. “Is that what you mean?”

“Because I took down all my Nigel posts....” I glance away feeling strange; dizzy.... overcome with a lightheadedness.

“Yes, I know, you removed over a year of posts, I noticed when you did that,” but he doesn’t give me time to allow the impact to settle in and continues with a different line of thought. He asks,

“Tell me, why do you say it is ‘too late’ to get any justice about the man who sexually assaulted and attempted to murder you? Retnuh Nivek,” he says

My mouth goes dry and I can’t breath,
“what are you talking about....? How did you find his name?”

“I went through the graduating class at Bard— didn’t he go onto being a practicing psychologist?”

“How do you know this?”

“He lives in Maryland and has a family— at least one daughter. I wonder how they would feel about this....”

“You are a spy, admit it!” I say this in s half insane kind of muffled scream

“I wouldn’t call myself a spy but I do research useful characters that come up on the radar....”

I wait staring at his profile and notice his nostrils have relaxed. He says calmly now,

“I mean, what happened is a felony—is that the word? There is no statute of limitation for murder, are you aware of that?”

I don’t answer right away. It is almost five minutes of quiet, tense driving with my mind spinning before I structure a sentence that framed some semblance to a complete thought and say very low and hoping almost that he won’t hear

“He said he would finish the job if I ever told.”

I think that he does not hear this

He does not respond

But after another five minutes he give me a chilling look and then says,
“I have no doubt I could do quite a job on him myself—by now I believe he’s turned into a blubbery fat mother fucker and I would love to be in the front row when you kick his ass.”

He is calm but I see his nostrils flare again

Much to my own shock I actually laugh,
“you think I can kick his ass?”

“You hiked from that estate to the Hudson —which is roughly about 19 kilometers—actually a bit more ....your legs are lethal weapons, min lilla duva,” he says and then reaches to switch on some music. As he does this he says, “to answer your question, yes, I still work for the government; it is not exactly a vocation you shrug out of, you might say. Especially once you have the instincts for it. It helps to be a symphony musician for them but also it keeps me sharp for the music and well.... you may not be aware of things about your assailant. We’ve been watching him for some time ....he’s been connected with international terrorism going back—oh—quite a number of years and when his name came up in connection with your school I started to put things together and it also revealed things about the man who raised you— there is a lot of evidence that he sabotaged the real man who was your father—Ethan— he was behind the downfall of his political career and likely turned double agent in the process.”

“Double agent....? You mean....” I look at him, “that’s crazy ....”

“I can show you when we get back. I have photographs of him at a meeting in Barcelona among a very interesting gathering.”

I don’t know how much time passed before I realized we were starting to see expressway signs for New York but I must have become lost in thought

I hear a text come through from Ilya and have to check

“Oh no....”

“What’s wrong?”

“The penthouse roof is coming down, she says there’s a flood now that they have emergency workers there now,” I try to find out more and call her

She tells me,
“they’re patching it up now, don’t worry but.... there’s a lot of damage. Especially the bedrooms.”

After I hang up I tell Jörn

He says,
“you seem to be having a lot of that lately—perhaps we should recruit your mason workers to come back with us.”

“Is that supposed to be funny?” I ask him

“I’m sorry— you should stay with me tonight,” he tells me casually, “although I forgot to mention I have a full house right now, besides my son, my parents are visiting.”

“Your parents!?”

He says,
“they’re here in business. In a way—they are appearing at an opera commemorative for the birthday of a late well known friend and are special guests. They also have enlisted me to be involved, as usual, they’re using a piece of mine and I have to perform with them so, be prepared for a lot of drama.”