Chapter Six Holly
Chapter Six
HOLLY
With the Plaza behind him, Mark Li could be a poster-boy for New York city.
Immaculate in his designer suit and polished leather shoes, sporting the kind of shave and haircut that likely cost more than my entire outfit.
He is holding a briefcase – an actual real-life, shiny leather briefcase – which he places on the ground when he sees me.
As I walk across the broad sidewalk to the hotel, the humid New York summer morning is working to stick my blue hair to my neck.
The polyester black lace sections of my skull pattern dress feel like they’re generating their own heat.
Glancing at Mark’s delicate handmade brogues, I’m aware of my heavy-soled shoes, clomping across the floor.
‘Ms Stone!’ Mark steps forward, enclosing my hand in both of his, and shaking in a way that should be warm, but feels strangely detached.
‘Thank you for coming. I apologize for the strange circumstances,’ he adds, not sounding sorry at all, and giving me a slightly loaded once-over.
I’m guessing he’s not used to doing business with women larger than a size six.
‘You’re telling me it’s strange.’ I look up at the hotel, its American flags hanging above us. ‘Those pictures you sent—’
Mark nods. ‘It gets stranger,’ he says, lifting his briefcase.
‘The 1980s called,’ I joke, to disguise my nerves, ‘They want their luggage back.’
He blinks twice, in confusion, then continues walking as if I hadn’t spoken.
‘What’s with the briefcase?’ I add, to hide my discomfort of the joke not landing. ‘Don’t billionaires use man-bags nowadays?’
He frowns slightly. ‘I’m a millionaire, not a billionaire,’ he says, as if the distinction would mean anything to a girl who survives on cup-noodles in a shared Queens walk-up.
‘And I always carry a briefcase. Since I was a boy.’ He clears his throat.
‘Before we go inside, I wanted to bring you up to point. What do you know about my future wife?’ As he talks, he flicks open the catches of his little case.
I hesitate. Questions like this always catch me out. It feels like a test of protocol I’m bound to fail.
‘Adrianna is … famous?’ I watch his face. ‘Really famous?’ I try. ‘She is the billionaire heiress to an international nightclub empire. And … um. She’s kind of known for being … you know, sort of difficult? Strong-minded,’ I amend, hastily.
He smiles fondly, opening the briefcase a crack and removing a sheaf of print-outs. ‘It’s true, Adrianna really is quite something. But it wasn’t her charisma I was referring to. I imagine you’ve seen her platform?’ His face glows briefly with pride.
‘I’m not really into all that side of social media,’ I explain apologetically. ‘Hair, and … stuff.’ I sweep an explanatory hand. ‘I’m more a dark fantasy gaming-type girl.’
‘Were you aware Adrianna has a stalker?’ He looks anxious now. On edge. I catch a glimpse of the papers. They’re newspaper cuttings. Old ones, from Adrianna’s infamous twenty-first birthday party.
‘Well, yes,’ I say, pointing to the documents in his hand. ‘Adrianna was kidnapped. It was a huge story, a few years ago. Even I couldn’t really have missed that.’
I hesitate, not sure what else to say. The dark details of the kidnap would stick in anyone’s mind.
‘It was three years ago,’ he says. ‘Before she and I met. At the time, Adrianna was receiving sinister letters and texts. Police didn’t take it seriously despite the fact the messenger seemed to always know exactly where Adrianna would be.
’ He pauses to let that part sink in. ‘Then she was snatched from her twenty-first birthday party. Adrianna’s stalker held her captive for three days. You must have read that story.’
‘I remember parts of it.’ I say carefully. ‘The party was held on the family’s private island, right? In the end, Adrianna had been held captive in the family panic room.’
‘Correct.’ Mark nods, apparently pleased with my accuracy.
‘It was huge international news. Leopold Kensington flew out to the island to join the search. Poured millions into a global manhunt. But while the whole world was searching, Adrianna was being held in that room, by some … sick individual wearing a Halloween mask.’ His mouth twists in the first recognizably emotional gesture I’ve seen him make.
There’s an awkward silence. Everyone knows what was done to Adrianna in that room. The pictures of her emerging from captivity were splashed over every newspaper in the world.
Mark clears his throat. ‘There was a lot of speculation that it must have been one of the party guests. Adrianna invited her entire prep school, and relations between those girls are incestuous to say the least.’ He straightens his blazer. ‘But the stalker was never caught.’
I swallow. ‘Is this why I’m here, Mr Li? You think the person who kidnapped Adrianna, three years ago, has returned?’
He nods tightly. ‘Adrianna’s stalker is back. But they’ve graduated from kidnap to murder.’
A ripple of shock shudders through me. I wonder what Simone has made of this.
‘Is Simone already here?’ I ask Mark, ‘Because—’
Mark spins on a shining hand-made heel, ignoring the question.
‘Follow me,’ he says shortly. ‘I’m going to take you to the scene of the crime.’