Deceit. [COMPLETED.]

Chapter 35

I looked around the room.

So this was his house.

I turned round in a three sixty-degree arc studying the bare walls, closing my eyes in order to get a feel for his presence but the only thought that came to mind was how empty the room actually was. It definitely wasn't the sort of house I would have expected a wealthy young man to have purchased but then if it was a hideaway he may have wanted it to have simply blended in with everything around it.

I moved closer to the mantelpiece. Dust littered the top but as I drew closer I saw two distinct marks indicating that something had stood there and had recently been removed. I wondered what it could have been.

I heard Max rummaging in the next room and joined her.

'Found anything?'

She shook her head. 'Let's try upstairs.'

Most of the walls were painted light blue but when we arrived at the master bedroom I was surprised to see it was in pale yellow with a pink border. A double bed stood in the middle of the room with a set of wardrobes to one side. I stood back while Max prized open the first one and I watched as she instantly let out a whoop of delight. At first all I could see was a row of shirts but then as she moved them to one side I was able to see a small black safe.

'Try his birthday,' I urged noticing a dial in the middle of the safe's door.

An obvious guess and I would have been surprised if it had worked but it didn't and so we spent the next few minutes exhausting every combination we could think of until I remembered the numbers concealed behind her brother's photo back on board her father's yacht.

I knew there was a 26 and Max recalled a number 9 but again the permutations were endless and it wasn't long before I stood up and walked to the window.

The street was quiet. Tired from all the secrecy I let my mind wonder looking at nothing in particular. A Citroen was parked to my right, built in the early nineties with its trade mark shape it was the only car in view. Looking at the houses I saw that few of them had delicate plant pots on the window sills. It was a lovely addition and contrasted well the colours of each property but what eventually caught my eye were the numbers to each house. They were all hand crafted in delicate strokes of the brush I wondered if they had by chance all been painted by the same artist.

And then another thought came to me.

'The number of this house,' I called out, 'what is it?'

'I think it was 19. Why?'

I said that the number opposite was 26. Was it that simple? To conceal your code inside a set of  house numbers. I ran downstairs and out through the garage door taking in all the numbers I could see including those on the adjoining street. I came back and watched as Max fed the numbers into the dial. It seemed an age and then with a final tug of the door it opened.

Max could hardly contain her glee.

'Oh I do love you!' she said before thrusting a hand into the small metal box.

Her words were spontaneous; I doubt they were spoken with any real significance and I was about to respond with an equally flippant remark when I caught the distinctive sound of a floorboard moving. It disappeared instantly but it was unmistakable and I immediately reached for my knife.

Max froze. I placed a finger to my lips and edged to the door. I waited. I held my breath. I tried to visualise who or what might be in the hallway. I listened for anything that might tell me I wasn't imagining what I had heard but there was nothing. Not even a noise from outside in the streets. The silence hung heavy in the air. I inched my way forwards into the hallway and then he struck.

It happened so fast I had no time to react.

My leading arm received a ferociously hit downwards sending it crashing against my side causing me to drop the blade and a hand was there against my throat pushing me hard against the wall. Pressure was placed against my windpipe causing me to close my eyes and all I could think of was to raise a foot upwards catching whoever was attacking me hard in the shin. I tried to see his face. I reached up and tired to twist him round by prising my fingers into the corner of his mouth, but he was immensely strong and agile. I kicked again and then I was suddenly flipped onto my back.

A fist struck my face. Pain seared through my temple. I tried to lift a hand as another blow came. My face was forced sideways. I was helpless.

I tired to push him off as another blow struck only this time there was no coming back.

This time my eyes closed and the next time I opened them it was dark.

+ + + + + + + + + + + +

Poor Kirk.

What was all that about I wonder?

What do you think was in the safe?

Was it just a kiss?

Kirk isn't having a good time of it is he?

Comments as usual and I am so looking forward to them as always.

Take care.
JU