Fortunes Obsession (12 page)

     They stood in an embrace for what seemed like a long time.

     " I love you," she said and walked out the door quickly.   

               ********************************

     Fahd passed the security gate and found Mustafa waiting for him.  Mustafa dutifully carried his hand luggage as they walked to baggage.  Mustafa, like everything else Fahd owned, was decked out in fine fashion.  He wore a grey chauffeurs uniform, replete with high black boots which glistened from their recent shine.

He stood straight and erect and behaved with the proper deference to his employer.  Fahd liked to think that he attracted great attention with his finely decked out chauffeur.  The luggage was annoyingly slow and when they finally walked to the nearby  lot, Fahd was irritable.  Mustafa pulled out into the usual heavy traffic crossing the Triboro Bridge into Manhattan and Fahd realized the source of his irritability.  Mustafa's report on Dara infuriated him.  How could the bitch be unfaithful to him after all he had done for her?  Fahd was a fanatic about loyalty and fidelity.  When he owned someone, he expected one hundred percent from them.  They were his, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.  This applied to a chauffeur like Mustafa as well as a mistress like Dara.  His mind set demanded revenge for any acts of disloyalty.  He had already cleansed his mind of Dara.  She would never be his mistress again.  He would find a new one just as soon as this current business deal was completed.  He had his revenge on Dara carefully planned.  He would treat her with kid gloves as if he really believed her sick act.  He would continue this role until the deal was ready to be consummated. Before sending her  with Mustafa to deliver the documents and pick up the money, he would rape her brutally, after which he would apologize and promise her great gifts when she returned, which of course she never would.  He knew that brute Bokaar.  He was a killer who loved to kill. He would have his pleasure on Dara in a hundred painful ways and then he would kill her.  The thought of it was a sexual turn on to him and he leaned back, his brain devoid of his past irritability.

     They stopped at his apartment for a shower and change of clothes.  He selected his wardrobe carefully.  He wanted to be attractive to Dara, so as to further lure her into his trap.

He put on a dove grey suit with a light blue shirt and floral patterned tie.  His shoes were highly polished black ostrich.

He put on his best and most expensive cologne and looked at himself in the mirror.  What he saw, was a handsome, dashing figure, larger than life.  What was actually there was a short, squat man, balding and with a black beard.  He looked exactly as the pose he had chosen for himself.  A middle eastern silk merchant.

     Mustafa was waiting at the curb with the car door open as soon as he walked out of the building.  The big limousine  rolled through the traffic and fifteen minutes later arrived in front of the building in which Fahd and Peter both had their offices.

    When he arrived at his office, he found Dara, sitting behind his secretary's desk, waiting for him.  She looked like hell.  Of course, this getup was part of her act, but Fahd

played his role well. He approached her and put his arms around her.

     " Oh my sweet, you look terrible.  I am so sorry that you don't feel well.  We'll just have a light dinner tonight and then I'll send you home."  He rubbed her back and patted her tenderly.

     Dara was confused.  She had expected him to be in a fit of rage after his probing phone calls.  Could it be that he had calmed down and forgotten all of his jealousies?  On the other hand, he might be setting her up.  she wished Peter were here to advise her.

     " I'll be but a moment, my love.  I just have some business to transact in my office."

     She held her breath as he unlocked the door and walked into his office.  She half expected him, at any moment, to find some clue that his office had been tampered with.  Instead, he smiled at her and closed his door behind him.  She could hear him talking on the phone in low tones, but couldn't make out what he was saying.

     He had dialed Bey's home phone in Dearborn.  " Ishmael, this is Ibrahim.  When can we expect payment for the goods?

Ah, good, Sunday is fine.  Unless there is a change, my people will be there at eleven o clock Sunday morning.  Yes, he can have her.  It is my pleasure.  My driver will pull away as soon as she hands him the money.  How he gets her back in the house is up to him."  He laughed heartily and hung up the phone. He sat for a moment and thought of Dara's pathetic get-up.

She actually thought she could make him think she was sick by wearing no makeup, frizzy hair and dowdy clothes.  He was stupid to keep her so long.  Ah well,  he had the key to her apartment and after she was gone, he could recoup a good deal of his losses.

    Fahd made several other phone calls and by five fifteen, they were on their way crosstown to La Cote Basque.

    Dara had always enjoyed the fine restaurant with it's mural covered walls and elegant service.  The food and the wine were always wonderful.  Tonight, though, for the first time, she really felt depressed being there.  She knew that Peter was worrying about her and wanted desperately to call him but she couldn't be caught making a phone call.

     He drank a vodka martini and she sipped a Cognac.  It was some time before either of them spoke.

     " My sweet, I think you should take the rest of the week to recuperate.  On Saturday night, I would like you to stay at my apartment.  On Sunday, I have a job for you.  Remember that fat animal customer of mine in New Jersey?  I need you to go with Mustafa to make a delivery and pick up some money.  Do not worry about this man abusing you again.  He has been warned by me. No more nonsense....or else!  After you bring the money back to me, we will take a wonderful vacation.  I am going to rent a yacht, complete with crew, and take you to the islands.  You can recuperate wonderfully there."

     " I don't understand.  If Mustafa is going, why do I have to

go with him.  Why can't he just go alone.?

     Fad looked angry. " Since when do you question me.  I take good care of you.  There is no need to tell you my reasons for anything.  Just do as I tell you and you will, as usual, be well rewarded."

    She looked contrite. " I'm sorry. Of course I'll do as you ask.  Sometimes, if I seem ungrateful, forgive me.  My sickness has put me in a terrible mood."

     He pinched her under the chin, perhaps a bit too hard.

" Of course, my love.  I'm so sorry you don't feel well. I want you to get better very soon." He raised his glass. " Here's to your good health."

     He quickly changed the subject, and they made small talk about his airline flight, the hotel he stayed in and the traffic in New York City.

     Dara pecked at her food.  She had no appetite but ordered another Cognac.  The warmth of the brandy and the glow she received from it, made her feel infinitely better.

     When dinner was finished, she was surprised to be driven directly to her apartment.  Fahd accompanied her upstairs and stayed for a very short time.  She did notice that he was looking around her apartment as if he was searching for clues or something different.  He gave her a fatherly peck on the cheek and left her there.  She waited fifteen minutes before calling Peter in case he came back.

     Peter answered the phone as if he had been sitting on top of

it. He had obviously been sitting near it for some time.

     " Oh Peter, I don't believe it.  He took me out to dinner and brought me back to my apartment and didn't so much as touch me.  I'm so relieved but wait till you hear what he wants me to do."

     " Go ahead," he said, " Something sounds fishy here.  He's behaving too well to be real.  Tell me the story."

     Dara went into detail concerning Fahd's plans for the Sunday pickup.  She went into every detail, including Fahd's temper tantrum when she balked at the arrangements.

     " I can't let you go.  It may be some kind of a trap...wait a minute....I've got an idea.  You go with Fahd's chauffeur and I'll follow in your car.  I don't own one, you know.  Better still, I'll get to the address in Jersey before you and be parked discreetly nearby.  You do remember how to get there, don't you?"

     Dara was mildly relieved.  " What a good idea.  Sure, I remember.  I don't know the exact address, but I know the street and I can describe the house.  It's the dirtiest, most ill kempt house in a well kept neighborhood."

     " I don't want to ruin this by being seen at your place and I don't want you followed to mine.  I want you to go to Bloomingdales tomorrow at twelve thirty and go to the ladies lingerie department.  When you see me, walk toward me and right past me.  When you are directly adjacent to me, drop your car keys on the floor and walk fast.  I will pick them up and feign chasing after you to give them back.  Keep moving fast, so that I

lose you.  I'll call you every day and every night but you won't see me till Sunday.  Meanwhile, I've got an FBI agent coming in tomorrow morning.  If he wants to talk to you, we'll call you to make arrangements.

     " Peter, it's funny.  Here I am making believe I'm sick to fool Fahd and I really do feel sick.  My stomach is in knots from the tension.  I wish it were all over and we could start a normal relationship together."

     Peter wished he could do more to comfort her. " It's going to be fine honey. You'll see.  Things are accelerating now and it will only be a matter of a short time.  Hang on."

     " I know," she said, " It only seems to get worse though. Now I can't even see you.  I need you to hold me and comfort me. Why must we stay apart?"

     " Trust me honey.  Lance and I have discussed it and it would be more dangerous for you if we're seen together.  This Fahd is obviously no fool. It's clear that he suspects something.

You just get a good nights sleep.  I'll see you at Bloomies and after Sunday, I'm sure it will be all over."

     Dara knew she would need a sleeping pill to get a good night's sleep, but put on a brave front for Peter. " You're right, I feel a lot better now.  I'll talk to you in the morning."   

              ********************************

Fahd leaned back on the plush leather seat of the limousine.

He closed his eyes and thought about his own cleverness.  The stupid bitch would have a surprise coming to her on Sunday.

It was time to find his next mistress.  While he was quite happy with his high priced call girls in various cities, he required a woman of his own, whom he owned on his terms.  Dara had served that need well but had now crossed the line over which he allowed no one to cross.  He was on his way now to a club that was currently the, " In ", place to be seen in New York.  This was an ideal way to find his new woman.  He would select his prey and after, " Interviewing," her, would make her an offer that was impossible to refuse. His next step would be to set her up in an apartment and train her in the demanding role of his mistress.

    He entered the club and sat on a blue velvet love seat, behind a small glass table.  There were couples dancing on a smoky, crowded dance floor and music was loudly blaring.  The throb of the bass was physically discernable.  The waitress, well acquainted with Fahd and his exorbitant tips, fawned over him.

    " Good evening sir, we haven't seen you for quite some time.

Welcome back."

     Fahd smiled and ordered his drink.  He looked at her carefully and decided that she definitely was not a candidate.

     He looked around the room for women who were either alone or with other women.  He did not want to get into an altercation with a boyfriend or husband.

     When he had finished two drinks, he decided that there was

no one in the room worthy of his attention.  He knew it would take some time to replace Dara but the girl he wanted was out there somewhere and finding her would be great sport.

     When he got to the limousine, he could see that Mustafa was disappointed that he was unaccompanied.

     " Fear not, Mustafa, the hunt is on and I shall be victorious.  Meanwhile, you are aware of my tastes and if you should see a candidate in your travels, please alert me to her."

             ****************************************

     Bey sat on the couch in the plush hotel lobby and looked at his watch.  It was not yet eleven o clock, so he wasn't worried that Collins had not shown up yet.  Bey, who was ordinarily a natty dresser, felt rather foolish in his white tennis shorts and one blue and one white sock.  As he surmised, however, no one gave him a second look.  He sat, patiently reading a newspaper and every once in a while, looking over it for Collins.  He saw instead, the usual group of Florida tourists in their Disney regalia.  Mickey Mouse seemed to be prevalent everywhere.

     Finally, a tall, handsome man in a grey business suit, white shirt and regimental striped tie appeared.  On his head was an Orlando Magic cap.  Bey looked at him and stretched out his legs to show him the socks.  Collins looked down and removed the cap from his head.

     " Mister, I still don't know who the hell you are and why I should trust you.  You'd better be a fast talker or I'm out of here."

     Bey stood up and smiled. " Come, I have a room here.  After we've spoken, I'm sure we'll be fast friends."