How To Hide A Body

A Quick Change Of Perspective

Rule number 238: Everyone involved in the case, even bystanders, even small coincidences, even just passers-by are important and valid in a crime. Make sure you stay aware of each and every single one. 

"She's supposed to do what?!" 'Mathilda' asked her fake fiancé, 'Carl'. 

"Blow up," he coughed mid-sentence as if it would distort the statement, "Statue of Liberty." 

She scoffed and turned to face the sea and the unscathed sculptor, "I still don't see why I'm involved in this. I did nothing wrong!" 

"That, my lady," he said, coming next to her and placing his hand around her tense shoulders, "Is where you are incorrect. You upset him, remember?" 

"That was a long time ago," she scoffed, shrugging so that his hand gently slipped down her flannel jacket. He felt her shivering. Whether it was from fear or the cold breeze, he wasn't sure.  

"You know he holds grudges. What you did in Paris," he paused, "Was unacceptable."

"I thought I had paid off my debt. I had to work for that woman for years and give him intel on her! It was unbearable! And he's still making me work for her! Plus, he's making me do little skits in New York! When he said he bought me a ticket to NY, the city of dreams, I didn't expect that I would spend my time there pretending to be your fiancée!" 

"Come on, is it so bad? I'll buy you dinner," he said, pointing at a hot dog stand a couple of feet away that was basically disintegrating before their eyes. When she rolled her eyes he grabbed her waist and pulled her close. She took a sharp breath of surprise, "I don't know why you're being such a pain about this. You literally just have to wear a wig and while I take a video of the statue of liberty blowing up behind us." She stuffed her hands in her pockets and bit her lip, "Dude, someone has to dress like me and run through Chicago airport making a scene. I think you have it better, at the moment. No one will realise it's you. Not even her." Someone behind them at the hotdog stand dropped a ketchup bottle and she immediately tensed up as if waiting for an attack.

"Come on, a ketchup bottle won't hurt you." She gave a nervous laugh. Feeling a tinge of guilt towards her, he said, "If it makes you feel any better, maybe I can organise that after this small thing tomorrow, you don't have to work for her anymore," he whispered to her through fair strands of blonde hair. He caught a quick sparkle which twinkled in her eyes and the sides of her rosed lips tilted upwards, every so slightly. In the twilight, she looked mischevious but serene. 

"Okay, fine," she said, leaning her head on his shoulder, only so that she could whisper to him, "But, promise me, tomorrow will be the last time I have ever hear from him and you ever again!" 

"Yes," he rolled his eyes, "Eulalie."  

"Promise me, Jean." 

"I promise," he leaned his head on her head.

To any pedestrian or tourist, they looked like a beautiful couple, newly in love, watching how the New York sky painted itself blue over an undercoat of orange and pink, falling in love with each other a little bit more as every star started to shine in the sky. But, in reality, they were two business partners being blackmailed by the same person, who couldn't bear to breathe the same air.