James Thompson - Lucifer's tears

The silencer muffled the sound of the shot and changed its pitch. Diners look around, curious. Arvid goes sheepish and shrugs. His look says, Sorry, folks, I’m just a clumsy and silly old man. They think the sound was only from the breaking wineglass and go back to their conversations. Arvid balances Filippov so he stays upright, and sits down beside him again. Filippov doesn’t look dead, just bored. Arvid’s peashooter didn’t pack enough punch to make a mess. A busboy scurries over, sweeps up the broken glass in ten seconds flat and departs.

I’m so shocked that I start to giggle. Linda gets up, goes over to Arvid and kisses him on the cheek. “You’ve rather changed my plans,” she says, “but thank you. That was the nicest thing anyone ever did for me. Who are you?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know anymore.”

She sits down again. “Would someone please explain to me what just happened?”

“Yeah,” I say, “as soon as I understand it myself.”

Arvid slides Filippov’s plate over and eyes his dinner. “What was he having?”

I’ve eaten here a lot and know the menu. “It’s a grilled fillet of beef with haricots verts, mushrooms, caramelized onions and potatoes au gratin. Can you please tell me why you just killed a man?”

He takes a place setting, cuts a slice of beef and digs in. “You were going to get fucked by this murder investigation. Now, your killer is apprehended, but unfortunately unable to stand trial. You solved the crime and closed the case.”

Arvid helps himself to Dom Perignon. I knock back my kossu. I need it. Filippov remains upright. His eyes are open, staring at me like the dead I imagined earlier on my drive here. Sooner or later, he’ll pitch forward. We don’t have much time. I turn to Linda. “Who are you?” I ask.

She sips champagne. “Iisa.”

“Why did you kill Linda?”

Her Bettie Page facade has disappeared. She’s all business now. “First things first.” She points at Filippov. “Like the old man said, you’ve got your killer. After this brief discussion, I’m going to get up, walk out of this hotel, embezzle the assets from Filippov Construction-which rightfully belong to me anyway-and never be heard from again. If not, I’ll expose everyone involved.”

It may be the most reasonable way out of this mess for all of us. “If your story satisfies me, it’s a deal. Tell it fast.”

She kills half a glass of champagne to steady herself. Her voice changes, I presume from a facsimile of Linda’s to her own. “I had agreed to meet Rein at his apartment on Sunday morning. I decided the easiest thing would be to just sleep in Rein’s bed and wait for him.”

“You were going to watch him fuck another girl?” I ask.

She nods. “About five a.m., I hear the door unlock. I think they’ve arrived early and hide in the bathroom. I hear two voices, Linda’s and a man’s. I’m wondering what the hell Linda is doing in my lover’s apartment with some guy, so I wait and listen. She sucks his cock and shoves him out the door.”

“No one saw you?”

“No, I’m good at this game. After the guy left, Linda called Ivan so she could gloat about their plan to murder me. She got off the phone and started getting ready, laid out her toys. I came out of the bathroom, took the taser, snuck up behind her and zapped her with it.”

It’s all clear to me now. “You decided to punish them both. You tortured Linda with cigarettes to disfigure her beyond easy recognition, tasing her occasionally to keep her under control, and made her tell you their plan in detail.”

“And after she did, I put on the protective clothing, so Ivan couldn’t tell the difference between us, and waited on him.”

“Torturing with cigarettes wasn’t part of the plan. Didn’t it piss him off?”

“I told him I got excited and overzealous. He accepted it.”

“And your lover, Rein Saar. You were willing to let him be framed and go to prison?”

She shrugs. “I was in a bit of a predicament. At the time, it seemed like it was him or me.”

“So you just acted out the murder, as explained by Linda.”

“And afterward, I put on Linda’s clothes, did my look-alike thing with makeup and hair, mimicked her voice and pretended to be her until we got to Filippov Construction. Then I switched from Linda’s voice to my own and said, ‘Surprise.’”

I can picture it clearly enough. She only had to fool him long enough for them to drive to work. He was in such a heightened state of excitement after the murder and completion of a dreamlike sex act, it wouldn’t have been hard to deceive him. How could he suspect he killed Linda, not Iisa, after just sharing such an act of demented intimacy?

“I’m surprised he didn’t murder you on the spot,” I say.

“He knew he wouldn’t be able to cover up a second murder. We struck a bargain to sell Filippov Construction, take my life insurance payment, split it all and never see each other again.”

“And pretending to be lovers when I saw you and Ivan here at Kamp on the evening of the murder?”

“As when we spent the night together in Linda’s apartment, we were maintaining a facade.”

“Didn’t you want him punished for planning your torture and murder?”

“I tricked him into torturing and murdering the woman he loved. I felt he was sufficiently punished.”

“And recording the murder, even setting it to music?”

“Part of Ivan’s aforementioned punishment. They had intended to do so when they murdered me, for their further listening enjoyment while they fucked. I simply completed the plan, so that Ivan could listen to the sounds of his lover dying again and again, guiltridden, as he mourns her.”

Even after all my years as a cop, the darkness inherent in human nature still shocks me. Sometimes I feel I’d like to take Kate and our child to live deep in the forest, away from the beasts we call humans. Somewhere peaceful and safe.

“Did you know Linda was your half sister?” I ask.

She cocks her head, uncomprehending. “Half sister? Impossible. She used to have sex with my father.”

“I think that’s why she wanted to murder you. During our last chat, you told me that her fetish was self-negation, that she wanted to be other people. I’m guessing that was because of the self-loathing incest caused her. Your father had an affair with her mother, but didn’t know it resulted in a child. Linda’s mother wrote to him and told him, and he committed suicide out of grief.”

Her breath catches, but she doesn’t interrupt and so must want all of this bitter truth. I also want her to have it, and I give it to her. “You received unconditional love from your father. Linda had to suck her daddy’s dick to get it. She must have hated you for it. You were cruel to your husband, but she loved him. You had everything she wanted. With you dead, she could become you, a new and improved version, and Linda, the unwanted and abused child, could cease to exist, once and for all.”

She stands, expressionless. I have no inkling of how she feels. “I believe our business is concluded,” she says.

“Not quite. I need the videos.”

“I’m keeping them.”

“Nope. That’s the deal-breaker. I’ll let you embezzle the money and disappear, but if you don’t give me the videos, or if I find out you made copies of them, I’ll find you and prosecute you for your sister’s murder.”

She eyes the door, anxious to leave, considers the ramifications. “They’re buried in snow, triple-wrapped in freezer bags. Walk four paces off my back porch, turn left and take four more paces, and dig. Are we done now?”

“Disappearing isn’t as easy as you might think. If you’re lying to me, I’ll track you down and see you punished. I doubt it would take me more than a couple days.”