Dorian From The Pictures

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It's one of these days again that I mainly spend sitting with my feet on my desk, joggling nervously with my fedora and forcing myself to not stand up and leave the office, although the opening hours aren't over yet and I could use a client or two &h...

It's one of these days again that I mainly spend sitting with my feet on my desk, joggling nervously with my fedora and forcing myself to not stand up and leave the office, although the opening hours aren't over yet and I could use a client or two … But there aren't any.

No one comes around, the phone doesn't ring, nothing. Stand up, lock the office, go to Bobby's, have a shot of whiskey or two (he'll write them in his notebook, maybe even buy you the third) ...

A silhouette shows up at the door and knocks.

I pull my feet off the desk, lay down my fedora, cough and say Come on in!

Good evening. Are you open?

Of course – come in! Please, have a sit.

Ada Rich, she says. She doesn't sit down.

The local female tycoon, she inherited half of her wealth from her first husband, and grew the other half doing financial stunts, failing to pay loans and taking bribes ...

Peter, I introduce myself and offer her my hand.

No matter her age, the broad looks stunning.

I'm not going to waste your time, detective, here – she drops a large envelope onto the desk – is everything you'll need. My husband is cheating on me and I want you to find out with whom!

I sit down and open the envelope. I know the guy ...

And what are you going to do, when I find it out?

We'll deal with it then – but I promise you'll be richly rewarded!

I stash the pictures back into the envelope.

Richly! she repeats.

 

* * *

 

Bobby's hole is half-empty … Some other day it would seem half-full. Dimly lit, with music a bit to loud to be able to think, it is a right place, if you want to get lost and hide from everything, including the law and marriage … I lean on the bar, park my fedora next to my elbow and show Bobby two fingers. He nods and while he slaps the empty glass on the bar, throws in four ice cubes and pours in a double dose of Jack, I scan the place. He hasn't come yet.

Here you are, detective.

It's easy to tell what I do for a living because of my coat and fedora, but even if I didn't, it's the image that suits me. Maybe I just watched too many black and white movies when I was a kid, but at least you couldn't mistake me for the city slickers, sleazy sons of spineless politicians riding the gravy train.

Thanks, Bobby. It's quiet today, isn't it?

Naaah … Same as always. It's not the time yet.

I fish my mobile from the pocket. Not a single unanswered call or message.

Was Dorian here?

Bobby shakes his head.

I check the pictures Ada gave me once more. There's also a little paper inside with an address written on.

Give me another one, Bobby, I say and stash the pics back into the coat.

The room is filling slowly. A couple of couples and a few lonely losers as I am.

I put the empty glass on the bar and wave to Bobby.

Put it on my tab, will you!

What?

I'll pay next time!

Fuck you, Peter, he spits and grabs the glass.

 

* * *

 

I park near the address Ada gave me, turn off the engine, half-open the window and make myself comfortable – I can see the block and the greater part of the street.

After a long while, the footsteps can be heard from afar. There's the man from the pictures coming closer in the rear mirror. I squeeze into the seat, but he doesn't look in my direction anyway. He steps slowly toward the block and disappears through the entrance.

I exit the car, close the door as silent as I can, and run across the street.

The light in the hall is still on and I can hear his steps at the top of the stairs.

When he turns the key, I start walking up the stairs inaudibly. After the door closes, I start jumping three steps at a time. I stop at the first door and try the doorknob. Locked. I try the next, but can't open it either. The third door is unlocked – pushing it slowly forward, the light in the hall goes off.

I stand frozen for a moment, as my eyes need to adjust to darkness. After a splash in the toilet the bathroom door opens – the light spills across the foyer.

Come on in, detective, says the man from the pictures.

Dorian, I say.

Dorian closes the door behind me, I take off my shoes, step into the kitchen and have a sit.

I inspect the flat: Cool place!

Want a drink?

I nod. He produces a couple of ice cubes from the fridge and disappears with the glass. Then he parks a whiskey in front of me.

Enjoy … he says and returns to the bathroom.

I take a greedy gulp.

 

* * *

 

He comes back with a towel around his ass, takes the glass from my hand and leads me to the bedroom, where he pushes me on the bed. I land on my back, he lets his towel slide down slowly and sits on my belly. He starts unbuttoning my shirt and pants, although I still didn't take off my coat.

We need to stop, I tell him, but he ignores me and fishes four red tapes from under the bed.

It's over, Dorian. She came into my office today … I tell him.

He ties one of the tapes around my left wrist, and the other end to the headboard bar.

Ada, do you hear me? I ask while he repeats the procedure with my other hand.

He pulls my pants off my ass and starts tying my ankles to the bed's legs.

Ada hired me to find out who you're having an affair with!

He doesn't give a damn about what I'm saying, and starts playing with my cock. When he finally sucks on it, I start seeing flashing lights and my head weighs a ton.

What … what did you put into my drink?

 

* * *

 

I've no idea how long I was in the dark, but a dialog between a man and a woman pulls me back into reality. I could easily do without my head.

When I move, a polyvinyl wrap rustles under me.

Dorian?

His blurry figure becomes bigger. He bites my ear.

Morning, Peter, did you sleep well?

I died … What did you put into my whiskey, Dorian?

Nothing special, you looked like you could use a little snore.

Dorian, Ada knows …

Hush … Take it easy, everything's going to be okay.

Dorian, you don't understand – Ada – aaaah, my head ...

Poor Pete, don't push yourself so hard … Just lie down, it'll be over soon.

What do you mean … over?

I can scarcely lift my head to scan the foggy room – still tied and half-undressed – there's a woman standing at the door. The woman I've seen before.

Look, Peter, as you already know, Ada became very suspicious. She was ready to hire a detective – yourself, to get the information about who I was seeing, which is kind of funny, you must admit.

I'll die laughing.

So, she was prepared to … pay a nice sum for that, and I was thinking …

He starts jangling with some metal objects.

… why would Ada pay someone else? You know, why throw the money away?

He obviously found the tool he was looking for.

So I said to her: Ada, honey, what if I help you find out, who he is, would you give that money to me?

Dorian sits on my belly, his back against me.

And you won't believe, he says and turns his face at me, she said YES! Ada loves me, don't you, baby?

Ada bursts into laugh.

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