Chapter Ninety-Two Holly
Chapter Ninety-two
HOLLY
I stare mutely at the bloody patch under Leopold’s suit jacket.
He looks away from me, staring out over the island. The wound is in his lower abdomen. It’s bad. I can’t take my eyes off it.
‘I thought … I didn’t realize the bullet hit you,’ I say, staring at the blood-soaked shirt.
He nods. ‘You know, I barely felt a thing when it happened? Guess I was distracted.’ His face is sad.
‘Hurts like hell now.’ His mouth twitches.
He pulls up his shirt, and stares with mild disbelief at his own abdomen.
It’s distended with internal bruising, pumping a slow stream of blood from a small bullet wound.
‘I am going to die, right?’ There’s the tiniest shred of hope in his voice. ‘Feels that way.’
‘Looks like it hit your intestine,’ I tell him, taking in the way the fluid and gases are pushing his abdomen outwards. ‘You’ve got about an hour.’
I don’t tell him the rest. That he’ll likely die in agony, poisoned by his own intestines.
He looks out to sea. ‘We can’t get a medic out here for at least three hours.’
‘A medic probably couldn’t help you anyway.’
He smiles. ‘Thanks for not lying to me.’ Leopold is looking at the glass-walled sides of the Tower Suite.
‘I built this place,’ he says. ‘From a patch of swamp, and some broken old buildings. When people think of Caribbean islands, they think paradise. But I tell you, this was a hell on earth.’ He shakes his head.
‘Hard to imagine now, how I had the energy. Athena and I were a good team. In the old days.’
The sun is deepening in the sky, sending rays of gold and umber across the glittering sea. Leopold’s eyes are distant, looking out over his island and the ocean beyond.
‘What do you think, Holly?’ he says. ‘If a person slipped and fell from here, would the body be swept out to sea?’
I look down at the rocks. The way the current swirls around them.
‘If a person fell from here,’ I say, catching his meaning, ‘I think there’s a good chance their body would never be recovered for forensic examination.’
He nods. ‘When I was a kid,’ he says, ‘boys like me would disappear. Just, disappear. Poof.’ He clicks his fingers.
‘No one gave a rat’s ass about a sixteen-year-old goon from Lower East. We were expendable.
’ He fills his lungs, proud. ‘But if anything happened to my daughters, the whole world would notice.’ Leopold nods again, the slightest touch of pride on his pale face.
‘Fathers protect their daughters. That’s what good fathers do. ’
We look at one another. Something passes between us.
‘Mr Kensington …’
You can call me Mr Kolowski. I’ve been dodging that name my whole life. Might as well own it now.’ He sighs. ‘A good father also knows when to let go. Never was so good at that part.’
Footsteps sound outside the room. Leopold takes a step toward the edge of the pool.
I instinctively move toward him. But it’s too late.
Leopold drops from sight and is gone.