Chapter Nine #2
It’s never enough to just take a head, he said. To kill the beast, you need to understand it completely…you must watch and learn…find its beating heart.
—
Nikki stared at her reflection. The past few months had aged her. There was an emptiness in her eyes she didn’t recognize.
Slowly, she pulled off her jacket. She was hanging this up when her phone buzzed. A text from Valerio: Drinks tonight? Insurance papers to sign.
—
Nikki was distracted and tired throughout class. She tried to focus, to become absorbed in the teaching. Instead, she kept looking at her watch, and the seconds sloughed slowly by.
Twelve minutes before the end of class, the door opened, letting in a gust of wind.
Pushing through the doors was a short, squat figure wearing a blue puffer coat and bright pink beanie encrusted with sparkles.
Assuming the kid belonged to one of the women in the group, Nikki turned her attention back to the class, and began correcting two teenagers who were practicing a choke-hold defense.
Above the scuffling sounds and conversation, a piping voice called out, “Nikki! Nikki! It’s meeeee! Nikki!”
The child waved enthusiastically.
Nikki didn’t like children on the best of days and couldn’t imagine why this one knew her name. She excused herself and crossed the room, recognizing at last the kid whom she and Sonia had met in the port.
“Audrey, what are you doing here?”
Audrey Lake grinned up at her, showing rosy cheeks and crooked teeth.
“I’m here to…well, say hello.”
Disconcerted, Nikki glanced through the glass doors, into the street.
“Where are your parents?”
“I’m here on my own!” she announced with pride.
“How did you find me?”
She held out a spiral notebook with Nikki’s name, phone number, and the address of the studio in blocky, childish script.
“I took your business card from Mummy. I looked…online it said you were here. I took a taxi.”
Nikki was astonished. Naples was no place for a child to be wandering alone.
“A taxi driver took you here?”
“I gave him money,” Audrey said. “I told him you were my sister.”
“Why did you do that?”
Another dopey grin. “Aren’t you pleased to see me?”
“No,” Nikki said. “You shouldn’t be out alone. It isn’t safe.”
Audrey looked stricken and Nikki, remembering how loudly the girl had wailed at the restaurant, continued talking before any screaming could start: “You need to call your parents, and have them come get you.”
The kid’s lip quivered. “I don’t have a phone.”
Nikki took out her own phone, and unlocked it. “Use mine.”
“I haven’t got their numbers.”
Fuck.
Nikki glanced at her watch. Ten minutes left.
She pointed at a metal chair in the corner of the room.
“Sit,” she directed. “Don’t move until I tell you. I’m going to finish teaching, and then we’re calling your parents.”
The kid looked stunned, and for a moment Nikki thought the wailing would start. But Audrey nodded humbly and complied.
—
When class was finished and the students began to filter away, Nikki called Sonia. After all, this was her case.
But Sonia didn’t pick up—and neither did Emilio.
Fuck. Double fuck.
She left messages for them, and turned back to Audrey.
The girl hadn’t left her seat; her coat and gloves and hat were strewn on the floor at her feet.
“Where are your parents?” Nikki asked.
“Dunno.”
“They’ll be worried about you.”
“Nobody cares about me,” Audrey insisted. “Can I come home with you?”
“Of course not.”
There was the trembling lip again.
“For fuck’s sake,” Nikki muttered.
“You said a swear,” said Audrey, instantly cheered. “Fuck’s sake. For fuck’s sake.”
Nikki swore again, then made a decision.
“Come with me. We need to get you home.”
Audrey followed Nikki around the studio as she shut off lights, and then out the door.
“Mum was so cross with you,” she said, and imitated Fiona’s drunken speech: “Fucking bitch. I’ll report her. Doesn’t she know who I am?”
—
It took twenty minutes to reach the Molo Luise marina.
Nikki felt nervous with the girl on the back of her Hornet, her own helmet strapped on the kid, maneuvering carefully through the chaotic city streets.
Audrey had no sense at all. Sometimes she gripped tightly onto Nikki, and other times didn’t hold on.
She leaned the wrong way in the turns, and babbled, words that Nikki had no chance of understanding above the engine noises, the horns, the blare of radios, and the shouting.
By the time she caught sight of the marina, Nikki was raw with tension—every nerve a charged wire. She drew the bike up on the pavement and parked. Maneuvering them both off the Hornet, she took the helmet off Audrey, whose face was red and sweaty, damp hair slicked to her head.
“That was fun,” said Audrey, puffing out her cheeks.
—
The dozens of yachts berthed in the marina were eerily beautiful: Fairy towers lit against the velvet black of the sea, chrome finishes gleaming in the lamplight.
There was the metallic slosh of water against the hulls, the clink of metal cables, the murmur of voices.
It smelled of fuel, of cooked food, and of the sea.
Audrey said that she recognized the marina, but didn’t know how to find her parents’ yacht. Nikki chose the longest of the seven piers and they began to walk.
Audrey, who hadn’t shut up until now, was oddly silent.
Nikki was relieved for the change and almost didn’t notice when Audrey’s pace slowed and then stopped.
At last, Nikki turned around to see the kid standing still, staring at her.
She’d looped a lock of hair into her mouth and was sucking on the end.
“What happened to Claire?” Audrey said in a small voice. “Nobody will tell me.”
Nikki wasn’t sure what to say; how much truth to give.
“Somebody hurt her,” she said at last.
Audrey stared, chewing on her hair.
“And that’s why she died? Because somebody hurt her?”
“Yes.”
Audrey blinked several times as if earnestly trying to hold back tears, but a few slipped past her guard. Her hands balled into fists, and her mouth pressed tightly shut.
Nikki felt horribly inadequate. She was suddenly angry at Sonia for not answering her phone, for leaving her to deal with this situation. She was angry at Fiona and Jayston Lake for not taking care of their kid, for letting her wander off alone into Naples.
“C’mon,” she said, gesturing Audrey forward.
But Audrey didn’t budge. She just stood, face contorted, and body rigid. Snot drained onto her upper lip. Her clear attempt to hold the emotion inside was somehow more awful than the wailing had been.
Nikki didn’t know what to do. It occurred to her that the kid was an odd mix of independent ideas and compliant trust. On the one hand, she’d exercised some exceptional will to find Nikki and navigate her way through a foreign city.
On the other hand, she’d implicitly trusted complete strangers: the taxi driver, and now Nikki.
Was this the result of privilege—this sense of utter protection?
She clearly had no idea of the danger she was in.
The evening could have easily ended quite differently for the little rich girl.
“Bad things happen sometimes,” Nikki said. “It isn’t fair that you have to know this when you’re just a kid. But this is why you need to be careful—why you need to stay close to people you trust. You can’t just trust strangers. It isn’t safe. You can’t run off by yourself.”
“Like Claire ran away?”
Nikki hesitated, then asked, “Did you know Claire was running away?”
Audrey nodded, and sucked on her hair.
“Did she tell you why? Did she say where she was going?” Nikki asked.
Audrey shook her head.
Nikki exhaled.
“Are you going to find the people who hurt her?” Audrey asked.
Nikki wasn’t sure what to tell her. She wanted to say that she wasn’t on the case anymore, but she heard herself saying instead, “Yes. I’ll find them.”
Audrey shuffled towards Nikki, and they walked together once more.
They were approaching the end of the pier when, in the dim light ahead, a tall, lean figure moved towards them with restless energy.
“Audrey,” called a deep voice. “Is that you?”
“Daddy,” Audrey called back.
Nikki shouted, “Mr. Lake?”
Despite the chill, he was in his shirtsleeves, and his stockinged feet struck the asphalt as he rushed forward with a sharp, almost aggressive precision. He came directly to Audrey and, crouching down, gripped her shoulders, scanning her face.
“Good god, Audrey, where have you been? I was preparing to phone the police.”
“Mr. Lake,” Nikki said. “Your daughter took a taxi into the center of Naples.”
“You took a taxi!” he exclaimed.
Audrey started crying.
“I wanted to see Nikki,” she sniffled.
“Nikki? Who’s Nikki?”
He stood and fixed Nikki with an intense gaze. His face, sharply shadowed by the lamplight, was all hard angles and rugged lines, his skin weathered. He had high cheekbones, a stark jaw, and short, unkempt hair.
“Investigator Nicole Serafino,” Nikki offered. “Phoenix Seven. I was with Detective Sonia Dieng when she spoke with your wife yesterday.”
“Ah,” he said. “Fiona mentioned you…she was quite upset.”
“Yes,” Nikki agreed. “She was.”
Jayston Lake wasn’t what Nikki had expected.
This man was no polished marina regular with a leisure yacht and time to kill.
In his late forties, he had the look of someone who’d seen his share of rough seas.
His presence gave a sort of gritty reality to the serene boats and peaceful waters of the marina.
“You weren’t with the police when they searched Claire’s stateroom today,” he commented.
Nikki nodded, stinging a little from the reminder of her exile. “As you said, I upset your wife.”
“And my daughter came looking for you,” he said. After a long beat, his expression suddenly softened. “Well, I should thank you for bringing her back safely.”
He reached down for Audrey’s hand, and she meekly gave it to him.
“Have a good night, Mr. Lake,” Nikki said.
—
Relieved to be rid of Audrey, Nikki turned and strode rapidly away. She hadn’t gone far when Jayston called out, “Ms. Serafino? I wonder if I can beg another favor of you?”
When Nikki had returned, he said, “Claire’s passport is in my safe. I’d meant to give it to the police today, but it slipped my mind. Can I pass it along to you?”