Prologue
He was stunned to the point of being stunned. Three lumps of cash were tied tightly with a strap and wrapped in plastic that he had just received from the bank, as big as bricks, suddenly felt heavy in his hand. Three bricks of money fell to the floor one after another when he saw a woman wearing a loose kimono walking down the stairs. She stepped out of the darkness from the upper floor and stood still at the stair landing and looked down. He felt sharp eyes like knives sliding across his face. The bricks of money fell into a pool of the fresh blood that was still not dry on the floor.
He stared blankly at the woman's entire body as if it were submerged in the light shining from the chandelier hanging from the ceiling on the first floor. The woman's face remained in darkness. But her chest was shining, white as if it were luminescent, reflecting the light. Her hair was jet black, wet and loose, unable to hide her sparkling blue eyes like they were in the late afternoon at the lake shore.
Suddenly, the woman gently dropped her kimono and walked down the stairs. She was completely naked. Her face appeared under the light. He suddenly trembled. He stammered the name of the girl he used to fall in love with. But he couldn't say anything. He remembered the face of that little girl from years ago. Layers of makeup could not completely cover up the innocent features of the girl before.
He wanted to step forward and take the woman's arm but was unable to do so. Every movement and every thought of him seemed to be blocked by some invisible force. He could only look into the woman's eyes.
Suddenly, everything before his eyes blurred as memories of his first love flooded back. Before his eyes, there was only the sunset at the lake shore. Before his eyes, there was the moon spreading gold on the hair and virgin breasts of the girl who had been with him by the lake. Before his eyes, there were the blue eyes, reflecting the lake’s surface. He could not forget that beautiful afternoon. He could only standstill at the foot of the stairs, turned his head, looked straight into the woman's eyes and waited for the naked woman to come down.
She walked down to the bottom of the stairs. When she reached his height, she stopped for a moment and glanced at him. He looked deeply into the woman's eyes. In those eyes, he seemed to see sparkling tears, sparkling with light. He wanted to reach out and grab the woman's elbow but he couldn’t do. The woman passed over him. She reached for the brown leather handbag with the letters LV embossed on it. The bag was hanging on the staircase and she walked out the door.
He just was looking at the beautifully curved back and round, shaking buttocks as the woman went out the door of the house. She opened the door and walking down the steps. Outside, the night was pitch black. A big storm was about to come. Somewhere, the wind started to blow. The tree tops were shaking angrily. Dry tree branches cracked and fell onto the road. Falling leaves rustled like pouring down on the sidewalk, even before the raindrops. A small tree had been uprooted by the wind and was blocking the front gate of the house.
An old man was waiting right in front of the door. His hands were already holding a cool blue jacket, on the chest was still attached a platinum Chanel brooch with a pearl attached. The old man put an expensive shirt on the woman's naked body. Two of them walked side by side into the street. They walked fast, like running towards the end of the street. Then he could only hear the sound of the car’s engine, starting up mixed with the roaring sound of the wind. The storm already came.
He still stood still like losing his soul, completely immersed in distant memories. A foul smell of blood hit his nose, making his stomach tighten. Blood was from his best friend in the world. He fell to his knees and vomited. All day, he hasn't had anything in his stomach.
The retching woke him up. He must erase all traces of this murder and flee before the police arrive. He must find a way to exonerate himself. He rushed out and closed the outside door. He ran to the bathroom and found two towels in the plastic basin containing some Burberry T-shirts that he had changed before putting them in the washing machine. He closed his eyes, mobilizing every neuron in his brain to recall every detail he had done, every thing he had touched to erase traces of his presence in his house. He had to do this quickly, because the police would be here in a few minutes. Perhaps, they couldn't arrive quickly because the storm blocked their way.
When he carefully wiped the doorknob with the remaining clean towel and closed the door, the rain poured down in torrents. On his shoulders hung two towels. Around his neck hung a cloth bag containing three bricks of cash. His left hand was still holding the glass he had touched when he arrived at the house. But now, in his left hand, he also carried a bottle of Bordeaux wine that he took from the shelf. In his right hand he held a ham sandwich he found on the table. As he walked aimlessly in the rain, he eat all wet sandwiches. He couldn't walk very quickly or easily, because the back of his pants was bulky. The pocket of his pants carried a Victorinox Swiss chef's knife that he had washed and wiped clean.
He pulled out the Victorinox knife from the dead man’s back. He had to put a towel over the knife before pulling it out so blood wouldn't splash on him. From afar, the sound of police sirens echoed, overcoming the sound of wind and rain and hitting his ears.
