Katherine Debona - The Girl in the Shadows

Even without the photograph found on Mathilde’s Facebook page, Veronique would have recognised Frederic. Dark hair falling over deep-set eyes, two-day-old stubble framing a square jaw. With a cigarette hanging from his lips he leant over the table, gripping the cue with thick, tanned fingers. Striking the cue ball he watched as it clipped the edge of the number 8, sending it into the corner pocket. He grinned as he stood, pointing the cue at his friend.

‘Et encore une fois?’ he asked, drawing on his cigarette.

‘Do you play women?’

Frederic turned, eyes caressing her from head to toe. His mouth pulled up at one corner as he blew smoke towards the ceiling.

‘I thought he was lying.’ He perched on the table, resting the cue between his legs. ‘My flatmate told me a beautiful Phantom had come looking for me this morning, but I did not believe it to be true.’

‘As you can see, I do not wear a mask.’ Veronique plucked the cigarette from his lips and dropped it on the floor next to the toe of her leopard-skin ankle boots.

‘What is it that you want?’ he asked, grinding out the cigarette butt.

Veronique leaned closer, resting her hand on his knee. ‘What is it that you sell?’

Frederic cupped her face with his hand, turning it one way then the next. ‘How did you find me?’

Veronique batted his hand away and inserted a coin in the side of the table. She pushed against the mechanism, releasing the balls into the den. Taking two in each hand she positioned them within the plastic triangle on the green felt of the table and walked over to the wall to retrieve a cue from the rack. Frederic watched as she rubbed at its tip with blue chalk.

‘If you stop asking questions then perhaps we can play.’ She gestured for him to take first shot.

‘Please, ladies first,’ he replied, taking a sip of beer.

‘Frederic?’ The blonde sidled over, rubbing up against him like a cat. ‘You promised that would be the last game. Let’s go back to my place.’

Frederic stood up, shrugging her away. ‘I’ve changed my mind,’ he said, handing her his empty bottle. The girl stood for a moment, the half-light in the bar doing little to disguise the blush spreading across her face. She followed his eyes to Veronique, saw the clench of his jaw as she bent forward, exposing her décolletage. The girl slammed the bottle down onto the table, cursing at him as she left.

‘I don’t think your girlfriend is best pleased with me.’ Veronique slid the cue through the thumb and forefinger of her left hand, sending the balls scattering across the table.

‘She’s not my girlfriend,’ Frederic said, walking round behind Veronique, brushing against her bare shoulder. He looked over at his friend, who shook his head and made his way back towards the bar.

‘But Mathilde was.’ She felt the pause of his hand before he moved it away. She turned to face him, finding mistrust in his eyes as he took another cigarette from its packet and looked around in search of a lighter. ‘Here,’ she said, easing her hand into his front pocket and retrieving a Zippo. She opened it with a flick of her wrist, running her thumb against the metal wheel to release a spark.

Frederic bent his head to the flame, sucking poison into his lungs before snatching the lighter back.

‘So you’re police?’

‘Non.’

‘Then what do you want?’

‘To find Mathilde. I understand the two of you were close.’

Frederic sneered. ‘She was never my girlfriend. It only happened the once and I told her it was a mistake, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Followed me everywhere, turning up at my apartment, saying we were meant to be together and all kinds of shit.’

Veronique leant on the table. ‘Then what gave her the impression you two were together?’

‘I don’t know; it was a mistake.’

‘Yes, you said that already. Was Agnes a mistake as well?’

‘What’s she got to do with this?’

Veronique sighed. ‘Her best friend. Surely even you appreciated the cruelty?’

‘Best friend?’ Frederic laughed. ‘Lady, I don’t know who’s been giving you your information but Agnes and Mathilde weren’t friends. Agnes couldn’t stand her, said she was a social climber, a leech.’

‘When did you last see her?’

‘Mathilde? The night before she went missing.’

‘Did you speak to her?’

Frederic shook his head. ‘ Non. She came to my apartment, standing outside and banging on the door. No doubt off her face…’

‘She was high?’ Perhaps marijuana wasn’t the only release Mathilde had been dabbling with. She would ask Christophe to check at the clinic, pass Mathilde’s photograph around and see if anyone recognised her.

‘Not always, but towards the end, more and more. That girl is seriously messed up, but it’s not my fault she ran off.’

‘That well may be, but I’m sure the police would be interested to find out who was supplying her.’

‘You’re way off. You should go talk to the people she works with. Bunch of losers dealing in all sorts, not just drugs.’

‘So you never gave her anything?’

He came closer. ‘I only ever give women what they want.’

Veronique moved away from the table. ‘Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t date boys.’

‘Really?’ Frederic grabbed her hand, forcing it against his crotch. ‘You think I’m a boy?’

Veronique tilted her head to look up at him and smiled. The hand that was curled around his groin squeezed, gently at first but with increasing pressure.

‘Be careful what you wish for,’ she whispered, releasing her grip.

He drew on his cigarette, flicking it past her head whilst his other arm shot out, grabbing at her neck and pushing her back onto the table. Pressing his mouth against hers he forced her lips apart with his tongue. She returned his kiss, hearing him moan as the hand around her throat travelled down towards her chest.

She bit down hard on his bottom lip and he shot backward, bringing fingers up to his mouth as she eased herself off the table.

The back of his hand struck against her cheek.

‘So you like things rough?’ he snarled at her.

‘You have no idea,’ she replied, curling her hand into a fist as she shifted her weight onto her back leg, leaning her whole body into the uppercut that made contact with the bottom of his nose.

‘You crazy bitch!’ he roared as blood spurted from his nostrils. He lunged at her but she dodged under his arm, spinning around and punching into his kidney as he fell against the table.

He shot round, one hand gripping the end of a pool cue. Veronique faced him, her own hands raised.

‘Is that such a good idea?’ She nodded towards the bar, where a dozen or so people were turned in their direction.

Frederic’s eyes flickered towards his friend who was returning from the bar. He made as if to lower his arm then swung out, lips curled back in a snarl. She tried to duck but the cue caught her across the shoulder, tipping her off balance. She turned her face to see him raise the cue again.

‘Jesus, Frederic, what are you doing?’ His friend grabbed on to Frederic’s arm, pulling him away from Veronique.

‘Casse-toi!’ Frederic struggled against the other man, bloody spittle collecting at the corner of his mouth.

Two barmen appeared on either side of Frederic and together they dragged him through the crowd of people, his angered cries calling back to her.

‘You okay?’

Veronique looked over at Frederic’s friend, opening her mouth wide and touching her fingertips to her cheek. She could already sense the beginnings of a bruise.

‘ Oui, I have had far worse.’

‘I feel like I should apologise for my friend.’