Amy and Mitchell appeared dumbfounded. They watched Noah place his wallet in his back pocket.
“Noah, what the hell are you doing in my room?”
“What the hell are you doing in a room? Mitchell? Huh? Tell me!”
The two stare at each other. Mitchell added:
“It’s not what it looks like.”
“Oh, try telling that to Elizabeth. I’m telling her everything, that you are half naked with a half naked women. She’s not even wearing a shirt! You are done Mitchell. How dare you sleep with a prostitute when you have a woman like Elizabeth back at home?”
“I’m not a prostitute! My name is Amy. I work with Elizabeth.”
“Oh great Mitchell,” said Noah with his arms in the air. He began to pace around the room. “Sleep with Amy, her friend,” said Noah with his hands on his waist.
Mitchell uncovered himself. He was only wearing boxers. He walked up to Noah.
“Please don’t tell Elizabeth. Let’s work something out. Please, I’m in love with her,” said Mitchell in a convincing manner.
Amy appeared upset. She said:
“How dare you Mitchell. You said you were going to leave her? You said that you love me!”
Noah laughed. He started for the door when Mitchell seized his arms.
“Get your hands off me. You and Elizabeth are done.” Noah turned to Mitchell. “And put on some pants.”
“Please Noah. Please!”
Mitchell pulled on Noah’s arm. He tugged it and attempted to push Noah back into the center of the room away from the front door. Noah smacked Mitchell’s face. The blow forced Mitchell to let go of Noah’s arm.
“Did you just smack me? Did you just smack me like a girl?”
Noah grew red. He then stood erect and tall as if he were validating himself and his actions.
“Yes I did. Did it feel nice?”
Mitchell held his cheek as if a baseball bat broke his jaw. He looked up at Noah.
“Ok then.”
Mitchell swung his open hand at Noah’s cheek. His hand landed a good blow. A loud smack sound of flesh hitting flesh vibrated Noah’s ears.
Noah grabbed his face. He looked at Mitchell. The two started to claw at each other like cats fighting in the wilderness. Mitchell slammed Noah to the ground. Noah started to smack his head. He pulled on his black hair.
“My hair! Let go of my hair you girl.”
“Stop smacking me in the head like a girl then. You’re a girl.”
The two continued to wrestle. Noah punched Mitchell in the eye. Mitchell fell to the ground tending to his wounds. Noah quickly stood up, looked around, and grabbed a plant vase sitting on the counter.
“No!” yelled Amy.
As Noah heard Amy’s cry, the vase was already in motion. It slammed against the top of Mitchell’s head. It broke into pieces. Mitchell’s body went limp and he crashed to the floor violently.
As Noah stood over his friend’s body, he attempted to serve his lungs with oxygen. He grabbed his head with both hands in horror. He looked at Amy as if she were a ghost. His skin grew pale.
Amy got of bed. She was dressed only in white undergarments. She checked Mitchell’s pulse.
“Is he alive?”
Noah crouched to one knee. He examined Mitchell with Amy. He could hear him breathing.
“He’s alive,” said Noah with a deep breath.
Amy stood up. She walked to the phone sitting on the desk near the window.
“I’m calling the police.” She looked back at Noah, then at Mitchell on the ground. “And an ambulance.”
Noah panicked. He quickly realized he had broken the law. He trespassed a hotel room. He smacked a man in the face, and then slammed a vase over him. Noah was doomed for prison.
“No wait. Please wait.”
Amy exchanged glances with Noah as she held the phone to her ear. Noah continued:
“Put the phone down.” Noah’s eyes landed on an identical vase sitting next to him. “There’s still one more vase here you know.”
“What are you going to do, hit me with a vase like you did with Mitchell? What are you doing here? I did nothing wrong. You broke into our room. You tried to take a photo of us, with your wallet! You are the one who hit Mitchell. You are the one in trouble.”
She turned her back to Noah and began to dial. Noah jumped on the bed and tackled her to the ground. She started to scream. Noah covered her mouth, but squeals still filtered out. He was on top of her. Amy struggled against Noah’s weight.
She scratched and clawed at Noah’s body. She broke free from Noah’s hands and resumed screaming. Noah punched her in the left eye. The impact pushed her head backwards and slammed on the ground so hard that her head bounced right back up.
Amy started to cry. She threw her arms in the air in deep panic. Her cries for help were more desperate. She begged Noah to get off of her; she begged for mercy; she begged for help.
Her cries for help startled Noah. He reached for a pillow on top of the bed.
“Please don’t. Please!” cried Amy now desperately fighting Noah off.
Noah covered her face with the pillow to shut her up. He wanted her to land unconscious so he could have a moment of quietness to sort the situation. She struggled for a bit. Her arms flung in the air and smacked Noah in the face. She scratched his arms.
“Calm down Amy. Calm down.”
Amy’s cries for help seized. Her arms fell to the ground. Noah applied more pressure to be sure she was unconscious. And when there was no more commotion, he removed the pillow from her face.
“Amy?”
She did not reply. Noah placed his index finger underneath her nose. She was not breathing! He grabbed her wrist and checked her pulse.
Noah jumped off her body. It was not his intention to kill her; he only wanted her to calm down so he could rationalize a plan. Why did she have to yell? If only she was calm they could have sorted a plan together.
He rushed to her side. He performed CPR.
“Oh my god. Hold on.”
His attempt to revive her was not working. It was not that he performed CPR poorly: the girl was dead; it was hopeless.
Noah fell to the ground. Tears came to his eyes. He crawled up to Mitchell to see if his body still consumed oxygen. It did.
Noah looked around the hotel room. It was a mess. He picked up the phone and placed the receiver back in its place. He considered his options. He thought he should call the police. They would rush over and make an arrest immediately.
Noah thought about Chloe’s sad face. She would be devastated. But Noah did nothing wrong. Why should he be the one in prison? He was merely attempting a good deed. He wanted Elizabeth to be free from Mitchell and his adulterous ways. He was a liar and a cheat; it made Noah feel well to think his assumptions about the man were correct.
Noah thought about the implications of spending long nights in a prison cell. He would be restricted and contained. In a prison cell, he had not the ability to sleep away time. Noah would be stuck, with no freedom to roam.
Noah considered more options.
He looked over at Mitchell. He grabbed the pillow, the same he used on Amy, and crawled up to Elizabeth’s husband. He sat on top of his friend’s body. Noah gave him one final glance. Tears strolled down his cheeks.
Noah slammed the pillow over Mitchell’s face with strong force. For a few moments there was silence. Then Mitchell’s legs began to kick. The man regained some strength; he threw his arms in the air just as Amy did moments ago. He struggled with Noah; he pounded his fist against the hands holding him down.
Mitchell was dead a moment later. Noah checked his pulse to be sure. Noah stood up. He looked down at the victim. He did not look dead. He only appeared to be napping; in a few moments he would rise for a late night snack thought Noah. But that would not be the case for Mitchell Schlossberg.
A cop car with its siren blasted outside. Noah rushed to the window. He looked down. The vehicle passed by the
hotel and away was the sound of its siren.
Noah took a deep breath. He looked around the room. He quickly headed for his room. He wanted to collect his things and rush back home before he was found out. In his room, while gathering his things, he considered the predicament he was in.
How could both Amy and Mitchell be suffocated without the police knowing there was a third party involved? It could not be left this way. It was impossible to assume that Mitchell killed Amy, and then proceeded to suffocate himself. Surely there would be an investigation.
When Noah collected his things, including the cell phone, which had a full battery, he headed back into the adjacent room.
“I’m sorry Mitchell.”
Noah picked up Mitchell. He dragged his body towards the balcony. Noah opened the sliding door. He looked out to see if any one was watching. Noah picked up Mitchell’s body with arms, and slung him over the balcony. He watched the body flow in the air. It crashed violently on top of a parked taxi. Glass shattered everywhere.
Noah rushed out the room. He took the stairs down four flights. In the lobby, witnesses swarm out of the hotel to see what was the matter outside.
“It’s a body! Call for help!” a man called out.
As Noah hurried through the lobby, he saw the reception lady, who checked him in, rush back behind the counter to call for help. Noah reached the streets. He quickly moved through the crowd. He did not look at the body.
Noah took the train all the way home. It was the first time in a very long while he wished he could sleep just like everyone else.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Elizabeth and Miles were sleeping on the couch. Mitchell, often working late hours, would return home in the early morning and wake his wife and on occasion, carry her to bed. This would not happen as expected.
Elizabeth woke the next day to Miles loud screams. Miles grew accustomed to receive her breakfast at a certain hour. Her mother was late in preparing the food. The tabby cat rushed up to Elizabeth. She brushed her head against Elizabeth’s fingers.
“I’m up. I’m up Miles.”
Elizabeth stood up. She swiped the sleep away from her eyes. Miles screamed at her.
“Where is your daddy? Huh? Can you call your daddy for me? You got his number?”
Elizabeth dialed her husband’s number. There was no answer. She fixed for Miles an abundant breakfast. Afterwards, she was in the shower. It was a quiet Saturday morning.
The night previous, however, was not. Elizabeth and Mitchell fought with furious anger. Elizabeth demanded to know his whereabouts, for as of late, he had either been absent or uncommunicative. The more she pressed him, the worse his anger became.
“Tell me Mitchell, do you still love me? Are you seeing another woman?”
“Elizabeth, for the last time, no.”
“Then where are you when you should be here with me at home? You come up with so many excuses; I can’t begin to even keep up.”
It was at this moment she thought she send a blow to Mitchell’s heart. Elizabeth considered hurting him by telling him the affection she had for another man. She would tell him how much she loved this other man; how much she wanted to be with him; how she only married to fill a void rather than for the actual bond for love. She wanted to devastate him they way he clearly was hurting her now. She felt entitled to return a favor; she felt it was owed and justified in her mind the rationality of coming forth with the truth.
But Elizabeth never had the chance.
“Elizabeth, my wife, I am going down for a cigarette. When I come back up, we will discuss this.”
Mitchell never returned up. Elizabeth waited for him on the couch. She fell asleep without word from her husband.
Presently, in the shower, as the warm water touched the softness of her skin, she looked out the window. She knew it would be a warm day and considered the appropriate attire for the day.
A few blocks away, Chloe fixed breakfast as Noah was in the shower. He ruminated on what would happen next. Could he come forth to Chloe? Should he tell her the truth? How stupid was he last night! And how much worse it was to keep such a secret to oneself. If only he could release the tension!
Noah jumped out of the shower and toweled himself dry. He took his seat at the table. Chloe fixed a fine breakfast. The two ate and chatted away. The conversation and food provided fuel and distraction. Chloe comforted him. He regretted now what he had done. Seeing Chloe’s cheerfulness, and easygoing matter, made his heart sink. He knew he did her wrong. What crime did Chloe commit? None. But she would suffer for actions he carried out; this lover of hers whom she slept next to and adored, and thought was so innocent, so sweet.
“How did you sleep?” asked Chloe.
“Fine. How about you? You were snoring all night you little piggy.”
“I was not!” retorted Chloe. She threw a piece of bacon at him. “Actually, you were snoring rather loudly. You must have been tired. I had to cover my ears!”
Noah was confused. She must have been dreaming. Or perhaps Chloe was mixing up her breathing for his. She often did this. Noah thought she was goofy. But he was glad for this for it made her good company, and now, a good alibi.
There was a knock at the door. Noah jumped in the air like a cat suddenly disturbed. He dropped his fork, and when it landed on the floor, Chloe picked it up.
“Easy my little babe.”
Chloe answered the door. Elizabeth rushed in. Noah took a deep breath. He drank some orange juice and watched Elizabeth fix herself a plate of food.
“Where is Mitchell?” asked Chloe curiously. “Is he still asleep?”
“Actually, I have no idea. He didn’t come home last night. I rang him, but no answer.” Elizabeth took a seat and began eating. She looked up at Noah. “Noah, did he call you about his whereabouts by chance? Did you happen to be at the bar with him?”
“No. No, I didn’t get a call,” he answered quickly.
“It’s not like him to go this long without calling me. He’s probably at a friend’s asleep.” Elizabeth’s face turned red. She looked down. It was apparent that she spoke words she wished she had not.
“It will be fine. Eat Elizabeth,” said Chloe.
The three changed the topic of conversation. They made plans for the evening to have dinner together at an Italian restaurant on Austin Street.
Elizabeth said goodbye, and thanked them for breakfast. As she walked up to her building, she noticed two police vehicles parked near the entrance. Elizabeth took the elevator up five flights. When she pushed the elevator door open, she was startled to find two police officers knocking on her door.
It was a female who was knocking. She stopped when she saw Elizabeth walk up to them.
“Hello,” said Elizabeth. “I live here. How can I help you?” Startled, she quickly asked: “Is there a problem officers?”
The male officer looked at Elizabeth with a sulky face. It nerved Elizabeth. The male officer said:
“Are you Mrs. Schlossberg?”
“I am.”
“Mrs. Schlossberg, may we come in for a moment?”
“Why, yes of course. Let me get the door.”
That afternoon, Noah prepared lunch. Chloe sat in the living room on the computer. She flipped through various photos. Some of them required touch ups and color corrections.
Noah rubbed down a slab of baby back ribs with salt and pepper. He poked the meat with a fork to make little holes so that it cooked evenly. He opened the oven and tossed in the meat. In a bowl, he added honey to barbeque sauce to naturally sweeten it.
The criminal could not stop thinking about the night previous no matter what invention he used to distract his mind. When there were noises outside his door, he thought his doom was likely near. An ambulance drove by, which made Noah sweat and breath heavily until the siren was gone. He contemplated the matter while he gathered himself to cook lunch for Chloe.
It was only a matter of time until they found out Mitchell’s name. His wife would
be phoned. But Elizabeth had no news of the matter yet. Why?
Amy paid for the room. Obviously, when it appeared she had not checked out, a member of staff would knock on the door. He would be the first to witness Noah’s poor behavior. What time is checkout, eleven or maybe twelve o’clock in the afternoon? It was nearing one o’clock now!
Oh poor Elizabeth! She had nothing to do with this matter. Why did Mitchell treat her so poorly? If only the married man were more moral in his actions, none of this would have occurred. This was Mitchell’s doing; he deserved what happened, thought Noah to himself.
And what about Amy? She was only a woman of love. She too fell for a conniving man. Mitchell strung her strings like an old guitar waiting to be played. He believed he could get away with his actions? How pompous was he to think he could carry this lifestyle without any repercussions? He was doomed to hurt Amy in some way. He wrote her fate: He was at fault for her life.
As Noah contemplated this, what he had been anticipating finally happened. There was a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it babe,” said Noah waving to Chloe to remain seated.
He opened the door. A female and male officer stood by the door. The male was stout, had a round face, and a large nose. He asked:
“We are looking for Mr. Spence. Noah Spence.”
“Yes that’s me.”
Noah was ready to offer his wrists so that they could easily cuff him. He would not put up a fight or argument. He was willingly ready to go. He was in many ways comforted to know that he would be apprehended; he would no longer have to anticipate the inevitable.
“May we come in sir?” asked the female officer.
She walked in first. She had long brown hair, brown eyes, and dark skin. Like the male officer, she too was overweight; she carried it with difficulty as she made her way into the living room area.
Chloe stood up to greet the officers. She appeared ghastly and thin. The white on her face match her polo shirt. She nervously pulled back her brown hair behind her ears. She placed her hands in her jean pockets.
“How may we help you officers?” asked Chloe nervously.
“Mr. Spence, can you please tell us where you were last night?” asked the male officer.