The Faustian Love Bargain (COMPLETED)

Chapter 5

“I am sorry to begin this so fast. But I am pressed to find out certain things,” Nick began. He was smiling for the first time since Stella had seen him and she felt slightly relieved that he did not dislike her like Stephen did.

“It is alright.” Stella did not know what to say because everything in the room was so beautiful. He had a perfect set of white and pefectly aligned teeth. When he smiled, it was as though, his smile was formed to reveal the right number of teeth. And his eyes would curve in a strange way that made any girl’s heart beat faster. 

“First, I have a set of books for you to read. They are not difficult and I believe you can finish them within a week. I have read them but I think it would be better if you have read them too. I will ask you questions next week regarding your opinions of certain things. Second, I understand this may be a sensitive issue but I am curious regarding your mother’s death.”

The sense of ease in Stella disappeared. “What about my mother?” she asked quietly. Stella’s face slowly appeared to be more crestfallen, and she lost the vitality that she had came with.

“Have your meal first.” He picked up a fork and gave it to her, with a smile still fixated on his face. “I ordered cod with mango puree. A more fruity flavour, I am told. I am not sure what you like to eat but most people take fish if I am not wrong.”

He watched her intently as she ate, making Stella feel extremely uncomfortable. Did he want to find out how well she could eat, whether she followed the right steps when cutting fish and putting it in her mouth, did he want to know if she could read books fast and form sensible opinions, did he want to investigate if she was still mentally unsound from her mother’s death?

After taking almost twenty minutes to finish a small plate of fish, Stella wiped her mouth clean and said that she was ready. 

“Did you not like it?” Nick enquired. It was difficult to tell if he was displeased, for his tone was neutral while his smile had faded, and he looked at her again with the same expressionless face.

“It was a sumptuous fish, I mean, dish," Stella replied nervously. There was too much confidence and gentility emanating from Nick Smith. She could tell he was extremely intelligent and there were many things going through his head even though he spoke little.

Nick Smith was a curious person. Often, Stella felt that she had a natural ability to read people, why they acted in different ways and why they believed in various things. She wanted to understand this person, who was presented through the lens of the media, as the person everyone wanted to become. He represented the ideal of society. He was brilliant, supremely blest with an image that was desirable to anyone’s eyes, so filthy wealthy that his wealth could survive him by seven generations, and what enchanted ordinary people the most was the royal blood that ran through him. She was pressured by the sheer power and status that the person who was sitting in front of her possessed. She felt her own life was so small and singular when placed in front of him. What unsettled her the most was that there was no touch of human emotion in all his words, not even a small tinge of sincerity in his speech. He was smiling but he was not happy.

“Now that you are done, I am very sorry I would be mentioning the topic that pains your heart. Believe me, I know I am not entitled to asking such questions,” he continued with a folder in his hands. It was the police report of the unsolved case, and Stella felt her heart drop. Her legs were trembling. She knew not whether it was due to the fear of Nick Smith or the fear of the reminder of the gruesome murder. 

“I have read the case thoroughly. It does pain my heart that such violence is even possible. I understand that there was a direct stab wound through her heart, indicating that the murderer was extremely, if not, perfectly skilled in his act of murder. Before that, she was kidnapped along a strange path. She was supposedly there because she suddenly diverted her direction. When she was kidnapped, there was no pictorial evidence that saw the act taking place. CCTVs captured her a minute before she was kidnapped but never saw her reappear. No one suspicious was pictured nearby and all had alibi that they were not at the scene of the kidnapping. A few days later, she was found near the same place where she was kidnapped, dead. Blood was no longer flowing out of the wound so it was possible that she was already killed before being placed there,” Nick stated in great detail.

Pictures of the crime, the little evidence that Stella had scrutinised day and night, cried over for weeks, appeared slowly in her head once again, and she felt faint with terror and sadness. The police were incapable of finding the murderer. There was no trace of any forensic evidence and even the motive was unclear. No one could understand why a reporter, a family woman, someone who was not involved in any controversial topics, had been killed suddenly. 

“Your statement claims you do not know who could have done this. She was a reporter and a part-time news writer, particularly interested in the culture and history of this country. Work partners of Mrs Robbs claim that she was well-liked but they were not sure of her private interests. May I know what these interests are?” His calm equanimity wavered dangerously as his lip trrembled. He looked at Stella, who had been looking out of the window the entire time he spoke. 

“She occasionally wrote articles regarding the rise and fall of civilisations, about city life, those kind of things,” Stella replied. She was tired of hearing the same things and being asked about the same things.

“Yes, I know. I’ve read all her articles. She was a history major. It makes probable sense that she was interested in those topics. What was she writing about before her death?” He pressured. It was running out.

“She was writing her biography, about family history and those sort of things,” Stella continued on languidly.

“Alright, I would like you to bring those drafts tomorrow. Do you recall if she had said anything unusual or had done anything unusual?” Nick clenched his fists under the table and blood left his scarlet lip.

 Stella shook her head. He realised that she did not know anything and it was clearly useless to ask her anything else. His throat was getting dry and his vision was blurring. The suppressor was wearing off. He started being more attuned to the fruity, tempting smell that lingered before him, and fear gripped him. He gulped down his entire glass of wine hurriedly. Alcohol usually helped it last longer, why was it not effective now? 

Stephen rushed into the room. He had been waiting in the room next door and seeing Mr Smith gulp down the wine, he realised his master was in danger. He  pulled Stella off her seat and she gasped in shock.

“I am sorry, you have to leave now,” was all Stephen said before she found herself forced into a taxi home.