The Grasshopper

Chapter 22

Pascal, dressed in the dark suit, stood in front of the window watching the square filled with people. “You’re not taking the shot?” he spoke without any fear to the imaginary sniper. “Very well, I understand. Who would see that you’ve killed me? They would show my dead body on television. It is better to wait for me to leave the hotel, and then, in front of the crowd… For it to be shocking, to scare them… for them to scatter. It works better for me that way too. Let her see me fall, on her beloved husband’s television channel…”

“Will you cry when you see me lying in the square with a bloody stain here?” He raised his hand and placed it on his chest. “No, you won’t. Because you can’t. So that your husband and children wouldn’t notice. But tonight… when he goes to sleep, will you at least shed one tear? At least shed one tear for me, Manami.”

Pascal slowly got up and went toward the door. He left the room and walked towards the elevator with brisk, decisive steps. Then he stopped in disbelief.

The elevator was at the end of the hallway. Between the elevator and the first rooms was the stairway, from where Mayor Seneca was walking towards Pascal.

When he saw Pascal Alexander stop in his tracks, Seneca slowed down his pace, waveringly went up to the door of the first room and also stopped. The two men, on opposite sides of the hallway, watched each other in silence.

“Why is Alexander just standing and not saying anything,” Seneca thought. “Does he suspect something? No, surely not. Why would he? I could have arrested and banished him by now. And I haven’t. It’s probably clear to him that I don’t pose a threat? It’s probably logical that I just want to welcome him and escort him through the echelon of inspectors?”

“I have to be careful” Pascal thought fervently. “How stupid I am. How is it that I haven’t thought of this earlier? That the man will come and take me through the cordon. Now for the first time I have to look him in the eye and speak to him… while I’m aware of… well yes… That’s why I’m not… of course, that is the only reason why I haven’t admitted to myself earlier… how much… I’m in love with your wife, Seneca.”

“Don’t be crazy,” Pascal commanded himself. “Stop thinking about her. This instant. Do you understand? What do you want? For him to see in your eyes… and for him to pester and torment her for the rest of her life. Is that what you want? Come on… calm down. Everything is over. Let the man nicely escort you to your death. Be at least a little afraid of dying, you fool! OK, there… I’m afraid. That’s what I’ll look like. As though I’m afraid of dying. I’ll be desperate. How will he know why I’m desperate?”

Pascal hesitantly stepped towards Seneca, and then continued with a firmer and stabler stride.

“Mr. Mayor,” he said while approaching him.

“Mr. Alexander, it’s as though you were surprised to see me. I just wanted to escort you through the cordon.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” said Pascal, already nearing Seneca and putting out his hand.

The door to the room that they stood in front of suddenly opened. Pascal turned around and wide-eyed in shock he looked at Raul, who stuck a needle into his outstretched arm through the sleeve of his jacket, and with his thumb he emptied the small injection. Pascal’s body went limp the same moment. Raul and Seneca caught him, not letting him fall to the floor. Without saying a word they dragged the unconscious Pascal Alexander to the elevator.