The water is like an experienced lover, caressing me gently as I stand still. It soothes me, washing away the pain, the regrets, the sorrow that is my life. It's an elixir after a hard day's work, a balm for all the aches. I would've stayed in the shower all night long, if it weren't for the sound of those frail arms pounding on my door.

I wished them away, this intrusion on my privacy. I knew what it would be. The landlady reminding me rent was due. The young girl from 201 asking me if I’d seen her kitten. Mrs Gladys trying another one of her schemes to get me in her pants. A salesman or a debt collector perhaps. I let the banging continue. Whoever it was would figure I was asleep or stone drunk and just give up and walk away. I decided to let them bang away at the door. They'd give up sooner or later. They all do.

"I know you're in there. Please open up. It's me."
That voice. I knew I was in trouble at that moment.

I stepped out of the shower, wiped myself dry hurriedly and put on some pants. The banging on the door continued. I imagined her reading my name over the door on the other side, with the words 'Investigative Consultant' italicised under it. Fancy title. Doesn't mean shit. Barely pays the bills. But a fancy title, nonetheless. A hell of a lot better than 'Private Detective.'
I opened the door. She stood there, just the same as I'd seen her last. Heck, even the same yellow skirt, if I recall correctly. Her hair was a mess, her eyes red. She's been crying. Her slim hands were wrapped around a travel bag that was obviously too heavy for her.
"What is it, Carla ?"

She rushed in, dropped the bag ,turned and locked the door, her frantic actions reminding me more of a cartoon character running around leaving gusts of smoke as she sped around.
I grabbed her as she finally slowed down to peer out the peephole.
"What the hell is going on, Carla ? "
"They killed Nick."
She broke down, sobbing. That struck me. Not the words per se, but her tears. I'm a sucker for a wet-eyed girl, my mom always used to say. I can’t help it. I can’t stand to see a woman cry. Any woman. And Carla was not just any woman. Involuntarily, my eyes went down to her familiar heaving chest as she sobbed.
"Not now." I chided myself. I focussed on her words instead as she spoke. She and her husband had come back from the movies to find a man ransacking the house. There'd been a gun involved. Nick had been shot. The guy'd come after Carla, but she managed to escape.

"How did you outrun him ?" I asked.
" I didn't. I could see he was gaining on me, so at the turn from Twine street, I just hopped into the alley and hid behind the dumpster. He just ran on past."
"That was smart thinking." I'd have to remember that place. These little things can come in handy in my line of work.
“Oh God. I don't know what to do. Nick's dead and I'm so lost and you're the only one I could think of to turn to in this situation." She once again fell into my arms, sobbing. I smelt her hair, old memories falling into place and sighed. This was gonna get complicated.

Let's me be honest here.
I never liked Nick Pemberton. He was a douche bag. He was rich, snobby, the kind of guy who wore cufflinks and had one of those high class, underfed mice masquerading as dogs. Plus, he stole my gal. He'd met her when he's come by the store she worked in, looking for the new French perfume; the one that smelt like jasmines on marijuana. I don't blame her, really. She's a good girl, my baby, but naive as a newborn puppy. She lived in that dream world where people are all kindred souls and men laugh at your jokes because they’re interested in your mind, not your body. He worked his college degree charms on her and persuaded her into sharing a cup of coffee and cookies during her next coffee break. She wouldn't have dreamt twice of cheating on me, this ol' girl of mine mind you, but times were tough for us back then. I was strugglin' just to make ends meet, working 20 hour shifts to pay the bills and save a bit for the wedding. You do all this and then you come back to a girl who spends all the time in bed, going on and on, telling you about the lifestyles of the rich and the snooty and it gets to you after awhile. The fights grew, my ego intervened whenever sanity tried to force a plea bargain and before you knew it, she needed time to think.

Of course, that silver-spoon-up-his-ass vulture Nick was there, the white knight for the troubled princess. Long story short - they fell in love, got married and lived happily ever after. Weirdly enough, with time, we overcame our differences . It’d be a stretch to say I and Nick became friends though. I tolerated Nick for her sake.. I guess he had the harder role being the husband and watching his wife remain friends with the guy who'd taken her to bed for so many years. Tough luck, asshole.

The detective in me stirred. "Did you see the guy who shot him ?"She shook her head. “It was dark. He had one of those ski masks on. Plus he wore this really heavy coat so I couldn't make out any features." "Are you sure you can't think of anything that can help? Come on. Think harder."
She shook her head again. I let out a huge sigh. She must have figured I was getting frustrated and the tears started again. "Oh Carla. Don't worry. I'm here. I won't let anyone hurt you. Everything's gonna be allright." Everything's gonna be allright!! How lame was that?
She hugged me again, lingering this time a while longer. Old memories stirred within me. Oh man.
I kissed her on the forehead as we parted slowly. We stared at each other. The part of my brain marked sanity was screaming warning bells of disapproval. I needed answers though before this train reached the point of no return.
"Do you have any idea what the killer wanted?" I asked, more to break the moment than anything else.

She looked down at her sandals. Blood stained, I noted. I knew that look. That I've-been-a-bad-girl look. Years ago, I found that a turn on. What can I say? She did that to me. Back then, a lot of what she did turned me on.
"Carla?”
She nodded.
"What is it?" I asked.
In reply, she turned around and walked to the bag she's been carrying around. Dragged it forward and opened it.
I always found it funny how unlike all the other good things in life, money has no smell. It's just paper in the end and yet, it has such a senseless hold over you that no woman's scent could compete with. Any dame thinking otherwise was just kidding herself. Out here in Amberville, dames were yours for a cheap beer and a roof over their head for the night. Money – well, money owned you. And this bag was filled to the brim with it.
An even 20 million, I figured, on a rough estimate.
"You guys were planning on leaving town or something?”
She sniffed. "It's stolen money."
"You guys stole money? You two?!! From who?”
There it was again, that downward gaze at her feet. "Salvatore" she whispered.

I tried to look impassive. Every private dick worth his money should have a straight face, immobile in the presence of revelations. It adds to our aura.
"Let me get this straight" I asked, my voice, calm as ever. "You stole from Salvatore, the head of the city's underworld?”

Damn. Just when you think you know a girl.

The story continues at...
Amberville - The End

“You stole from Salvatore.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. Some would call it a death sentence. You didn’t steal from Salvatore. You didn’t steal from Salvatore’s men. Heck, you didn’t even try stealing from Salvatore’s cook’s Christmas stockings or his son’s lunch box. Salvatore wasn’t a man to mess around with. People who tried to screw with him tended to end up dead here in Amberville. I guess Nick didn’t know the rules out here. Well, experience makes you wise, I guess. It also makes you worm-food, Nick.

“What ? There wasn’t enough cash to buy that overgrown rat of yours golden dog chow ?”
“Pete was a Chihuahua and it wasn’t like that! Nick was going through a rough patch and had tried to curry favours with Salvatore. The don... rejected his help. It.. well..”
“Bruised Nicky’s ego? And he decided to get even with Salvatore? You’re kidding me right?“ I knew he was a douchebag , but boy.. he was obviously the poster boy for dumbasses too. He’d actually tried to rip off the Don over a silly let down.
“What were you thinking ? You actually went ahead with his madness ? You and I, we’ve lived here all our lives. You know what the Don is like.. what made you think you two could get away with it ? Why didn’t you warn him ?”
“I.. I was kinda... I wanted him to fail. So I’d be free.”
The implications of her words raced through all my senses; my knees threatened to expose my feelings, my heart a wildfire just lit, my mind felt like it was on an acid rush.

“You did it purposely ? You wanted him to fail ? You wanted Nick dead !!”
“You don’t what it was like. I was in hell. I needed a way out. I thought he loved me. But Nick didn’t want a wife. He wanted a trophy to show his friends. I was just a wife in an official capacity... there were so many others sharing his bed. Initially, when I wasn’t around, but later.. it didn’t matter. I had to keep the facade of the happy wife all this time or suffer at his hands. Or worse.. in his bed.”
My blood boiled over as she carried on. This part of Nick I had not known... not anticipated. I had never been the best guy for her- I’d always known that, but I’d always been true to her, always loved her till the end. This scum had tricked her and burned her innocence into the ground – turned her into social bait, offering her as a delectable side dish ; a deal clincher for his business schemes.

“So you set him up ? You goaded him into stealing from Salvatore, knowing full well that Salvatore would go after him. But how were you planning on escaping, Carla? You know he’ll come for you too.”
“I know. That’s why I came to you. I knew I could count on you. You were always the one for me. You always looked after me. I just never realised it till it was too late."
I looked into her eyes. This was real. This was happening right now. The girl I’d dreamed a thousand dreams with years ago was in front of me, a bag full of cash between us, asking me to start dreaming again. We just stared at each other. No words needed to be spoken.

She knew I held a torch for her... I had always been crazy about her. She knew when the shit hit the roof, I’d be there for her. She’d been counting on it. Besides, being a private eye gave me certain advantages. I had contacts with Salvatore’s men. I went to school with his right hand man Delgado. We still kept in touch. Meetings could be arranged, explanations given. I knew Salvatore. He was no Santa Claus, but he couldn’t stand disrespect to women. The Italian in him wouldn’t stand for it. If he knew the reasons for her actions, I’m sure she’d get a second chance. Perverse as it sounded, Salvatore had a strict set of moral values. He’d take the money back, but Carla would live once he saw the truth in her tears.

Her hands grazed the hair over my chest, reminding me that I was standing in just my pants. My fingers brushed away the hair covering her face. She turned to them. Kissed them tenderly. My breath caught, a silent greeting to this familiar lost lover back again in my arms, willing it to last forever. Our lips met, a taste so sweet I felt I would cry. All the memories came rushing back like a pleasant wave; the nights of passion and love making, the feel of her beside me on all those winter nights as she dreamed of our future together, my wandering fingers interrupting her .
Our future together. The time had come. The time was now.

Finally our lips broke free from each other, panting, my left arm hugging her close to me so that I could feel her right next to me. She smiled, her lips brushing my cheeks as they passed by, stopping beside my ears.
“Is that a gun I feel in your pocket or are you just glad to see me ?” she whispered in that tantalising voice.

It wasn’t original, but it was funny, under the circumstances.

The first bullet hit her just below the belly button, shredding her guts. She groaned. I held her tight and pressed the trigger again. The next two shots shook her like a rag doll. I released her, watching her slump down. I sat down beside her, watching her breath go shallow. The cacophony of the evening traffic would no doubt have muffled the gunshots. Besides, out here in Amberville, nobody reported gunshots. People tended to be hard of hearing where familiar sounds were concerned.

I’d like to say she spoke some words of betrayal and moral justice before she died.
But the truth is, Carla just died. Her eyes went glassy, just as her husband’s had when I’d surprised him a couple of hours ago at his home. I sat there awhile, watching her still body bleed over the carpet. Damn. I’d really liked that carpet.

I dialled in the number given to me. The man picked up on the second ring.
“Well ?” Delgado’s voice replied.
“You having a cold ? Your voice sounds like crap, Gad.”
“It’s this weather. Gets me every year. Damn sinuses ache like the devil. Never mind me. How did it go ?”
“Like clockwork. Tell Salvatore they’re both dead. The Pembertons have met with an unfortunate accident , walking in on a robber at their apartment.”
He guffawed at that, the laugh broken by bad wheezes. “You’re the works, you know that ? I gotta tell you. I didn’t think you had it in you to kill the broad, what with all your history an’ all. But you got it in you, man. You’re the real deal. I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you with Salvatore.”
“Thanks, Gad.”
“Hey, did you find the loot they took off the big guy ?”
“Sadly, no. I searched their place inside out, but I couldn’t find it. Knowing that bastard Nick, he’s probably transferred it to a dozen bank accounts all over the country by now.”
“Darn true, man. These days, anything’s possible. Damn internet. Makes everything so complicated. Never mind, though. It was just small change for the Don. It was just the principle of the matter, you know.”
“I know, Gad. I know. Can’t have people messing with the Don.”
“Darn tootin’ right, we can’t. Anyway, you did good tonight man. Now get rid of the bodies and go get yourself some sleep. You earned it. You want me to send you a broad to your place ?”
“I told you earlier , Gad, I don’t fancy your sister. She and I are just good friends.”
“You bastard” he said, but his voice was cracking between laughs and wheezes.
“Get something for that cold, will you?” I advised him. “You sound like shit.”
“I will, man. I will. You take care now. And hey, give my regards to your momma for me.”
“Will do, Gads. Bye.”
“Bye, pal.”

I undressed and headed for the shower. The déjà-vu hit me as the first drops of water caress my skin. It’s an essential elixir after a hard day's work, a balm for all the pain, the regrets, the sorrow that was my life. It’s a sensual goddess teasing me, touching me where I needed to be touched, telling me what I needed to hear...washing away my sins. I thought of the bag of money in the living room. There’d be plenty of time to hide it. First, I had to get rid of Nick and Carla’s bodies where nobody would find them. I knew a couple of places. These things come in handy in my line of work.
Oh, yeah. And I needed a new carpet.

Damn.

I’d really liked that carpet.

THE END

Author’s note : To anyone wondering, this theme of a town with altered morals is inspired by Frank Miller’s brilliant version of the same in Sin City. Personally, I loved the way all his characters and stories were related to each other by just a brief moment of intersection, mostly over a beer... and a pole dancer called Nancy. How every character was flawed... and thus human. How you never knew what to expect as you turned the page.
In this town called Amberville, which in the end is only as fictional as you imagine it to be, that’s what I was trying to recreate.

Hopefully, I’ve succeeded too.