The Intangibles Read online

  Narrow drawers stood along the walls of the small room, and in the center was a long bench.

  “Had fun with your chicks again?” someone said from behind.

  The young man turned around and saw a guy, about his age. He was putting on a T-shirt.

  “Screw you,” the stud nattered, slipping out from the locker room.

  He felt drained. Today, she’d exhausted him completely. First, she’d thrown a tantrum, then kept him up through the night with stupid texts. Freaking drama queen; he hadn’t gotten any sleep.

  That’s it, he thought to himself, standing in the elevator going down to underground parking. It’s time I wrapped it up.

  Thoughts were swarming in his head like a bunch of flies. He wanted to fend them off but they came back again and again, reminding him of the past twenty-four hours.

  Margo had been really annoying. She’d jumped on him as though she’d felt that it was their last date. She’d yelled and acted up and cried. He’d thought that even the thick walls of the Hilton hotel building could not keep the entire city from hearing her screams. She had no sense of caution. None.

  The elevator rang and stopped. The doors slid apart to let the young man exit.

  The sound of steps echoed through the dimly lit parking lot. The stud walked past the cars and took his key out of his overcoat pocket. A black Porsche blinked a few times at its owner, who suddenly had a feeling of disgust. And this was really weird, because just a few days ago, he had been totally happy about this shiny new car. He recalled how Margo had given him the keys and looked at him with glowing and adoring eyes.

  The car door quietly opened and he got in. The new interior still smelled like the factory. He rested his hands on the velvet leather of the wheel and sat back, waiting for the happiness and satisfaction to return. But nothing happened. Neither the neon-glowing dashboard, nor the quiet murmur of the engine, nor the new stylish hat that was supposed to match the color of his overcoat got his spirits up.

  The car softly sailed out of the parking lot and dove into the turmoil of the big-city streets.

  Stuck in his thoughts and worried by current events, he drove along, watching buildings and traffic lights sail by.

  After several blocks, he parked his Porsche in the parking lot of a cozy neighborhood of townhouses.

  The guy was not in a hurry to leave the car. He killed the engine and stroked the wheel several times, still deep in his thoughts. He’d dreamed about this car for years, and eventually his dream had come true. So why didn’t he feel happy? Why did he feel a gnawing unease instead?

  He slapped the wheel lightly, as if to brush off his conflicting thoughts, grabbed his hat, put it on, and looked into the rearview mirror.

  Yes, the hat fit him great. This cheered him up a little. Now he just needed to move it forward and pinch it a bit.

  He made these easy actions with his right hand and, now happy, about to step out of his car. That very instant, something stung him on the top of his head, causing a sharp and sudden pain. He jerked the hat off and threw it away, reaching with his hand to the spot where the pain was burning like hell and felt like his skin was being ripped off. Something moved in his hair.

  Panic overwhelmed him and he screamed. The scream was drowned out by the roar and rumble in his ears, as excruciating pain consumed his body.

  He fumbled through his hair and eventually managed to pull something out. He stared at his clenched fist but could not make himself open it. He didn’t want to see what moved inside there and was trying to escape through his closed fingers.

  Suddenly, sharp pain cut through his left hand as well. He howled and opened his fist to see a brown spider sinking its fangs into his delicate skin.

  He screamed and convulsively shook his hand, trying to make the disgusting creature fall. It slid from his palm and flew into the corner.

  Appalled, he managed to open the door with the bitten hand that was now numb with pain. He tried to get out, but could barely move his leg. His own scream sounded as if it was coming from afar, and he fell onto the pavement. The throbbing pain started to center around his groin and grew stronger every second. He tried to inhale for another scream, but he felt as if there was a noose around his throat, and all he could manage was a quiet, pitiful groan.

  He writhed on the cold concrete and felt nothing but an intense burning pain in his groin. His body grew numb, with just his lips moving, as if he were a fish on the shore.

  He noticed two elderly ladies approaching him with curious and anxious looks on their faces.

  “Help! Help!” he heard somewhere deep inside his head, but he could make no sound; his vocal cords were paralyzed. Everything was moving slowly and resembled a nightmare.

  One of the ladies looked somewhere to the left and her face distorted with horror. She pointed in that direction to show the other lady what had scared her.

  The last thing that the sinner saw was the large spider striding about four inches from his eyes. The spider stopped right in front of his face, as if it wanted to make sure that the vengeance was executed, and then leaped away into a nearby bush.

  Far away, he could hear the sound of a siren, fading as he passed out.

  CHAPTER 4

  Stinger

  The door to the bathroom was slightly open. The glass wall of the shower cabin was covered with steam, but that didn’t hide the shape of the woman inside. Water streamed down her perfect body, a lightning bolt tattoo on her back, then ran over her full breasts and long legs before disappearing down the drain.

  A tall, handsome, black-haired man around forty watched the girl. From time to time, he looked down at his hands as he filed his fingernails. Finished, he looked back up at the brunette and called to her.

  “Linda!”

  She turned off the shower and stepped out of the cabin, right in front of the man who was devouring her with his eyes. He gave her the towel, but the girl took her time. Water drops fell from her delicate shoulders onto the floor. The man smiled.

  “Each time you take a shower, beauty,

  A hundred angels gaze at you with pleasure!

  They smile, and, keeping their voices muted,

  Exchange their whispers and admire the treasure.”

  He spoke each word very clearly as he leaned forward and sensually stroked her body with a file, slowly and carefully, down from the neck, between her perky breasts and then… lower.

  “Your sparkling body makes their gazes tame.

  Your splendor dazzles, stuns and leaves them almost blind,

  They call you Goddess, both unearthly and divine,

  And worship you without a bit of shame.”

  The brunette’s eyes sparkled, the towel fell to the floor, she bent and touched his lips with hers…

  At that instant, the phone rang.

  “Damn it!” said Linda.

  She picked up the towel, put it on, and walked away.

  The cell phone was insistently ringing. The man gazed at the girl as if he was enchanted. When she disappeared in the other room, he sighed in disappointment, and went to the living room to answer the phone.

  “What?” He made a sour face and plopped down on the sofa. “Billy, tell me!”

  He listened to the voice on the other end jabber something, and his eyes began to light up.

  “Let me see,” said the man, reaching for the coffee table. He took the tablet. “Okay, wait. Here it is. I got it! I’ll call you back.”

  He hung up and threw the phone on the sofa. Now he was interested only in what he saw on the screen.

  “Stinger, dear, who called?” a melodic voice asked from the next room.

  He didn’t answer.

  Linda stood in the doorway, tying up the belt of her light silk robe. Her wet black hair lay messily on her shoulders.

  “Darling, come here,” said Stinger, motioning to her to sit down.

  Linda did. “What is this?” she asked, looking at the tablet screen.

  “Billy sent it a
nd asked us to watch it to the end.”

  Two chess queens, the white and the black, were having fun with the black knight on the huge bed.

  “And who is this?” Linda raised her eyebrows and pointed at the screen when the new actor had appeared in shot. He clearly did not belong there. Some scared, nerdy-looking guy in a wrinkled shirt was at once put to work by one of the ladies.

  Stinger paused the video. “Billy said that we almost lost our client because of that idiot. You see, big money was paid for the stream and suddenly that… Let’s watch it.” Stinger unpaused it.

  It looked like another character was being added to the scene, but it was utterly absurd. He just didn’t belong there. At some point, the blonde covered him with her body, but all of a sudden, she jumped up and they saw that there was no one under her. At this point, the video ended.

  “So, what the hell was that?” Linda squinted.

  “Billy said that the dude came from nowhere and vanished in front of everyone. The client blamed Billy for plotting it and editing the video. Billy had to refund him. But that’s not the point. Did you see how he vanished?”

  “Yes. I thought it was edited, too.”

  “It was not.” Stinger said slowly, still looking at the screen, which showed the frozen frame of the white queen’s bewilderment.

  “Then what was it?”

  This question remained unanswered. Stinger sat in silence for a while. “You know what? Let’s check them out. Billy said that he found an ID card in that guy’s pocket. He works in the lab for some scientist named Max Landau.”

  Stinger typed the name into his search bar and it produced a bunch of links. “Well, social networks. Facebook. Max Landau, scientist, official page. Reports, statements, discoveries, research. A picture with Athena Stone. Wow! They’ve been dating for over three years.” Stinger scrutinized the screen. “Do you remember? That’s the young tennis player, she won the cup with an eye patch on, like a world-class athlete can win even half-steam. After her picture with that patch was printed in the lad mags, Billy shot a whole film for the client.”

  “Yeah, I remember that film with a couple of one-eyed blondies. Sure I do. Anything else?”

  Stinger’s hand moved across the screen. “Here, in Wikipedia…”

  Linda looked at the small letters on the screen.

  “Max Landau, scientist, works in the field of elementary particle physics,” Stinger went on. “Scientific papers… Look, here’s something interesting. Max’s father, Arthur Landau, worked in the same field, lived in Moscow, Russia. After the fall of the USSR, he immigrated to New York City and continued his research. Here! ‘Sudden disappearance right in the airplane… Under mysterious circumstances.’ Interesting. ‘They considered this a hoax and are still arguing if it was the work of the KGB.’”

  “And what do you think about all this?” asked Linda.

  “I think that we gotta find this schmuck and ask him a few questions,” replied Stinger, putting the tablet aside and reaching for the phone.

  “Hi, Billy. Downtown, in half an hour. Bring someone with you, we have a visit to make.”

  * * *

  Even the closed curtains in Eddie’s apartment could not stop a casual visitor from feeling disgust. It was an utter mess. Sofa upholstery all torn, a bunch of T-shirts and socks, the coffee table with dirty paper cups and a pile of old pizza boxes. The picture wouldn’t be complete without the wad of ancient napkins, spread on the floor around the table.

  The kitchen corner was buried under dirty dishes. Every inch of the counter was covered with convenience food boxes, more napkin wads, more paper cups, and some other trash.

  All this mess stank nastily. Several overflowing trash bags were piled one on top of the other by the entrance door, showing that the apartment owner hated to take out the trash, kept forgetting about it, or just didn’t care.

  Despite the stinking mess, Eddie was sitting in the armchair with a laptop and headphones. He watched what was happening on the screen, and one could tell by his sweaty forehead and panting that the show was very absorbing.

  Someone knocked on the door, killing the silence, but Eddie didn’t move. The knocking repeated. Eddie didn’t bat an eye. The knocking became a drum roll. Only then did Eddie hear it. He realized that someone was assailing his apartment, and in a confusion, dropped the headphones on the floor, slammed the laptop shut, and rushed toward the door. But halfway there, he halted.

  Someone kept pounding the door from the other side, however it sounded rather more like kicking.

  Eddie straightened his filthy T-shirt and sweatpants as if he could ever look presentable, and opened the door.

  Stinger, Linda, Billy, and Joe were standing there. Eddie froze.

  “You…you?” Eddie whispered.

  “Good afternoon,” said Stinger. “Why don’t you invite your guests to come in?”

  “I must not speak to you. You…”

  “No need for protocol,” Stinger continued, as he moved Eddie over and came in.

  “Freaking stench!” shouted Linda, following Stinger. “Someone die here or what?”

  In her hip-huggers, high heels, and body shirt, she totally did not belong in Eddie’s bachelor den. She pulled a sour face and started to twist her long, dark hair into a topknot.

  “You don’t have insects here, do you?” asked Linda, looking around with disgust on her face.

  “No.”

  “It looks like you do, actually,” chuckled Stinger.

  “I must not speak to you! You were excommunicated… I saw your picture!” Eddie looked at him with the look of a hunted animal, but Stinger ignored his words.

  “So… you’re smart and understand why we came, right?” he said, looking at Joe and Bill.

  Linda briefly inspected the apartment and walked to the beaten-up sofa. With two fingers, she carefully picked up a T-shirt, noticed the laptop, and immediately put the T-shirt back.

  “We’re very interested in your mysterious disappearance,” said Stinger.

  “It’s not me! It’s not me! It’s Max!” Eddie broke down and Stinger looked at him with surprise.

  “Go on,” he said, with a keen interest in his eyes.

  “It was Max who gave it to me! He’s been working on it for a while!”

  Sexy voices from the side of the armchair made all four turn around.

  “Oops…” Linda stood there with the open laptop and a cunning smile. “My goodness, honey! Come and look.”

  Eddie dropped his eyes in dismay.

  Stinger scornfully chuckled. “I see you loves your porn?”

  Eddie shook his head, but it wasn’t convincing. He still looked down.

  “It’s fine, relax,” said Stinger. “We won’t make you stand in the corner for this. C’mon, we’re going to our place.”

  Eddie nodded with a servile look, changed, and headed for the door. His guests followed. Linda slammed the laptop shut, threw it on the armchair, and walked out of the room last.

  CHAPTER 5

  The Abduction

  It was getting dark. The business center was well lit, illuminated by the street lights and neon signs and the glow of nearby skyscrapers. The black SUV drifted slowly through the traffic jams toward Max’s office.

  The shotgun passenger observed the road ahead meditatively, in total silence.

  Adrian couldn’t understand what had happened to Zet in such a short time while he had been punishing that sinner. Everything had gone really well and according to plan, and the boss must have been happy with the result. Despite his harsh disposition, he always commended his assistants for a good job. But not today.

  Before Adrian had been able to enter Zet’s office, the boss was beelining out of there, telling Adrian to immediately go to “that Eddie.” Perhaps, while Adrian had been taking care of things, Zet had watched the recording of Eddie’s confession. When they had made it to the car and gotten in, Zet added, “We need to find him right away.” Adrian had had to call Eddie fr
om the car, but he still didn’t know why.

  Nobody had answered. There was nobody at his home address either. Now they were heading to his office.

  True, talking with Eddie had been really weird. Some scientist, some mysterious appearances and disappearances, some invention from some sci-fi story and some conspiracy against mankind. But you never knew how many crazy dudes would visit their church every day with whatever miraculous stories. They already had magicians and psychics, as well as the usual frauds. Eddie’s story was just one among hundreds of similar tales, which he’d had to listen to over the years that they’d known each other. And Adrian hadn’t done anything unusual when he passed the USB stick with the recording of Eddie’s confession to his boss. So why was Zet so agitated?

  They stopped at the red light and Adrian looked suspiciously to the right. He had never seen his boss so detached and worried at the same time. The wrinkles between his brows deepened as he fingered his rosary beads. Something was definitely wrong with Zet.

  They were almost at the office where Eddie worked. As Adrian looked around to find a free parking spot, Zet’s face suddenly changed and he ordered abruptly:

  “Drive! Now!”

  Adrian stepped on the gas and the car shot along.

  “What happened?” he asked while accelerating.

  “I saw somebody.”

  Adrian looked back and noticed among the parked cars a silver-colored SUV that was usually used by Zet’s brother, also known by the nickname Stinger.

  “Park the car so that we can see the SUV.”

  Adrian turned around and parked nearby so that they could watch the other car from their location while keeping an eye on the building exit, where Stinger supposedly would appear soon.

  Zet kept running his beads through his fingers. Adrian looked askance at him without a word, then killed the engine and sat there waiting.

  Ten minutes later, the main door burst open and two men with a strongbox walked out followed by Eddie with Stinger pushing him in the back. Linda followed, closing up the rear. They approached the SUV. The trunk opened and they tossed the strongbox in.