FRIDA
The new apartment was mesmerising: panoramic view on the heart of London, a spacious kitchen and living room, and how could one forget the beautiful bathtub in the huge bathroom - Kosse really worked her magic, and this bonus on my already enormous Guardian salary really did the trick.
I put my boxes on the ground, exhausted: the past week, I have had quite the sleepless nights, with a total of 10 hours of sleep for the whole week. As I see my face on the mirror, I start to get why Andres called me obsessive: the dark circles under my eyes, my face with no make up, as well as my hair let loose and naturally wavy, really changed from my usual look.
Shaking my head, I get dressed and go out on the streets, that were empty on a beyond cold Sunday afternoon, during which it was snowing heavily.
This is when it hits me - at a random time under the snowflakes falling all over my face and body : 'Look through the dirty windows made of steel', that's what the mysterious text message said... There is only one place in London where buildings are made of steel... at Westminster Waste, aka the half-abandoned buildings near the waste collection center.
Grabbing my phone, I immediately call Alexia Putellas, and when she picks up I waste no time in saying:
"Westminster Waster"
There is a small silence, before Alexia sarcastically says:
"Good morning to you too, Roflö. Usually people contextualise what they are talking about when mentioning a waste collection center."
"Look through the dirty windows made of steel?" I cite, fed up, before quickly adding: "I'm on my way there, join me ASAP."
"Roflö, don't go there alo-"
But I hang up.
"Oops" I let out, smirking.
When I get there - mostly thanks to traffic but also a very talkative and slow driver - however, Alexia is there already, accompanied by two agents (Danielle Van de Donk and Ana Crnogorcevic) armed to the teeth.
As I salute her wordlessly, she hands me a bulletproof jacket, before saying:
"Never hang up to my face again, Roflö, otherwise I let you die on your own."
"Duly noted" I ironically let out, smirking.
Nodding her head in turn, she makes a sign to her team (I hadn't seen it before, but a whole swat team was lurking in the dark edges, ready to storm into the dozen abandoned buildings) that immediately split and go inside all the buildings.
Alexia, on the other hand, just grabs my arm when I am about to follow them: her eyes are enough to make me change my mind, as I would've died from bullets coming out of them either way.
We wait about ten minutes in total silence, before agent Crnogorcevic walks right at us with a small object inside her hands: when she comes closer, however, we can see the shape of a creepy doll with green eyes and black, long hair, as well as a needle planted right inside her neck...
I frown, as Alexia says:
"Well... at least we didn't come for nothing: whoever took Ingrid is a player, and we're gonna make them lose to their own game."
As she starts giving out orders about collecting fingerprints and everything, I start feeling anxiety coming out from the depths of my stomach : what if this doll was explanatory of Ingrid's current state...?
Then, another agent brings a small note visibly found next to the doll, with written on it:
Next time, don't come with the cops: nobody likes Spanish food either way.
I frown: another enigma...
***
JILL
Staring at my phone's screen - a picture of Leah and I the last day of college we spent together - I suddenly feel nostalgic. It was funny how, in only a matter of year, I really befriended her and the two of us just lived endless hours of just goofily laughing our asses off instead of studying, or even just taking long walks through London whenever one of us couldn't sleep. I miss her - I truly miss her.
Today marks one month since she died, and never does one day go by without me thinking about her.
This afternoon, after Jordyn, Sakina, Kosse and I wrote today's article that was given to us, and conducted a few researches on behalf of Frida who was absent today again - which was highly unusual from her and hadn't happened before Ingrid disappeared ; ever since, she has missed many days without giving any reason - I now have a free afternoon, that I decided to spend with some of my friends.
When I get to the huge and beautiful Christmas Market, I meet with Kady and Daan, aka my two only friends in the whole city, as we were soon joined by Jordyn, Sakina and Kosse, already drinking hot wine and enjoying life.
After a while, I see a familiar face on the crowd, making her way to us, and when Kady realises I am about to just walk away, she grabs my arm and hisses:
"Give her a chance, she feels terrible."
Indeed, when Lia greets the rest of the group and then looks Kady and I's way, her face immediately collapses and her smile disappears. Of course she's seen my face, that was more than reluctant one could say, while Kady was in the middle, knowing right well that what was a very good friendship - Leah, Lia, myself and her - was on the verge of collapsing once and for good, but she couldn't let it collapse without a fight.
How can she forgive her after what she's done...? I ask myself for the 3'000th time, setting my jaw and waiting for her to make the first move.
Although I could see from the depths of her eyes that she really was hurt by what happened to Leah - of course we knew the two of them were in love with each other, regardless of Lia's treason that never changed - and by my coldness toward her, although she quite understood it and didn't have anything to say to defend herself. As a long silence establishes, and while Jordyn, Sakina and Kosse are just looking at us, confused, Kady gives me a blow in the elbow.
As I still don't react, she only says:
"Alright you two: I don't ask you to get along, but at least don't kill each other: it's been one month since Leah died, and I thought we could honour her by spending a nice evening just telling stories about her and laughing. Is that too much to ask?"
We both look at her, before nodding: forgiveness was nearly impossible to me, but I had to try: Leah would've wanted me to try - so we just start drinking, and drinking, and drinking...
***
MAPI
My eyes slightly open with the light of day, as a terrible headache already takes over my head. I start feeling nauseous, thinking it would be a great idea to actually drink some water. As I painfully get into a sitting position, I roll my eyes at myself: next to me, a seemingly hot dark-haired is sleeping by my side, after from what I remembered quite a hot night - so good that I can safely say it's been a very long time since I've had this much satisfaction. Only down point: I don't even know what that girl looks like. Her straight hair are just partly covering her face, as I sigh loudly.
Once I threw up in the toilets and washed my face and teeth, I start making coffee, finally feeling better, opening the small windows of my rather shitty apartment wide open to make the air circulate. My Italian coffee-maker is making a bit of noise, as I dress up for work already. After a few minutes, my bedroom door opens, so I put some Spanish music and start dancing.
Only, when I turn around, my face truly looses it's relaxation: Sakina Karchaoui - aka one of Ingrid's protégées from what I gathered - appears, and when she sees me we both say at the same time:
"... Shit."
Her eyes going wide, she covers the rest of her body by her clothes that remained on the couch, as I reduce the volume of the music. Once the coffee is ready, I just pour myself a cup, before turning around and starting to drink it.
Sakina, who is shamefully standing there, just sarcastically lets out:
"Um, it's fine, I wasn't thirsty anyway so-"
"You should get out of there, kid" I let out rather coldly, as the French girl just crosses her arms against her chest, visibly irritated. Of course I am a bitch, as I add: "it's way past your curfew."
"Yeah, right, you didn't seem to think that yesterday from what I remember..." she lets out, not impressed. As I almost choke on my coffee, she just puts her coat on and says: "I'm 25, by the way."
Frowning - she really looked younger - I just roll my eyes and state:
"I don't care. Adiós."
"Au moins apprends quelques règles de politesse, connasse" she mutters under her breath, before giving me the finger and leaving my apartment without asking for anything else. (English: At least learn a few politeness rules, bitch)
As soon as she is gone, I sigh in relief: that was a mistake - sleeping with one of Ingrid's protégées, because if she ever comes back from being kidnapped and finds out, I am a dead woman.
A few minutes later, the door rings.
When I go to open it, I see a rather gorgeous brunette I had never seen before, with very deep green-brown eyes and long hair tied in a ponytail. Raising my eyebrow - what can I say, women are my drug - I just stand by the door, smirking.
Using my seducive voice, I ask:
"Oh, querida, who is this lovely lady at my door so early in the morning?"
But the response doesn't really enchant me, as the woman walks past me, just revealing:
"Melanie Leupolz, private lawyer - we briefly spoke on the phone the other day, before you hang up on my face. May I come in?"
Watching her walk into my apartment, taking a long, judgmental look around, I just roll my eyes and close the door.
As she keeps on lurking around, I say:
"You're already inside either way, so: what do I owe this violation of privacy to, uh?"
"Let me be very clear, Mrs Leòn: either you cooperate, of your life will be a living hell those coming months, because your sister is beyond pissed and thinks Leah died by your fault. So you better start to talk now."
I smirk.
"Bossy" I comment, as the German lawyer just stands there, not impressed. As I nonchalantly sit down on the couch, I just add: "Who sends you?"
The brunette smirks, before declaring:
"This is confidential, Mrs Leòn. But if it can make you feel any better, I think you're despicable and deserve to rot in hell for faking your own death and leaving your family behind - but there again, I am a private lawyer, so I don't have a say about who my clients are. So, let's get right to it: where were you when Leah died in Saint Ives, one month ago?"
"Are you an inspector or something?"
"Answer the question, and this won't take us all day." the woman orders, visibly impatient.
Rolling my eyes, I just say:
"No offence, miss-"
"Esquire Leupolz" she corrects, strict.
"I don't know how it goes in your country, miss, but here we don't say 'esquire' since the 90s." I insist, as she just rolls her eyes, taking a notebook out of her bag, remaining standing. Knowing that she wasn't the type of person to just give up, I say: "And with all due respect, master, if I wasn't able to tell my own sister and family why I faked my death, it's 'cause I can't tell a soul. So I certainly won't tell you, so-"
"Very well - for now" she interrupts me, setting her jaw. "Have you been related to any sort of illegal activity those past four years, such as drug trafficking, murder, perpetuate intimidation, hacking, theft...?"
"Does smoking pot count?" I ask, raising my eyebrow. As she rolls her eyes, I add: "Or maybe being illegally hot? 'Cause I am."
Closing her book, the woman then says:
"Listen: I give you 'till tomorrow to cooperate and tell me the informations I am looking for, because if you don't, then you'll be on your own - and knowing the storm that's coming your way, just know you shouldn't be stupid. Come by my office when you decide to make the right decision for once in your life."
With that said, she storms out of the room, coldly calm, as I roll my eyes and light up my joint: she can go fuck herself.