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Next Chapter Last Chapter Nikola's Nightmares Home
Chapter 29: The Ride to QueensNikola spent the entire trip to Queens looking over her shoulder. She couldn't believe that she had actually shaken her stalker. She had had the sensation of being followed for so much of her recent history, that she almost couldn't imagine moving through New York City without it, but here she was. When she entered the subway, she felt as if she was entering another world. She had navigated through underground mass transit systems before, but never one so large or so noisy. When she had been in the subway with Greg on their city tour, she concentrated on absorbing its ambiance rather than understanding its logic, because she knew he would lead the way. Now, she was glad that his directions were clear and detailed. Even with them, it took her some time to sort through the maze of trains that ran through Herald Square. She found an F train heading north and took it one stop to Forty-second Street, where she had to change for the Seven. She found signs for the Seven easily enough, but they led her through a seemingly endless pedestrian tunnel. Several times she thought that she must be going the wrong way and almost turned around. The only thing that kept her going was the steady flow of people walking purposely in both directions, apparently used to this block-long tunnel, with its florescent anti-utopia atmosphere. It did eventually lead her to the Seven train. All she had to do now was ride the train to Queens, in what she hoped would be an uneventful trip.
Nikola was pleasantly surprised when the train emerged from the ground shortly after entering the borough of Queens. She twisted her body around to look out of the dirty window behind her, and found herself looking over countless apartment building rooftops. The train rattled along about five stories above street level, higher than many of the buildings immediately surrounding it, giving Nikola a good view of the neighborhoods she passed Her stop arrived not long after the train's emergence above ground and Nikola got off. It didn't take her long to find Greg's building, which was only two blocks away from the subway station. It was a six-story red brick building, a bit run down, and covered with graffiti at the bottom. It was sandwiched by two similar buildings, on a block filled with more of the same. Nikola had the impression that the whole neighborhood was built at the same time, the buildings all had the same architectural style and pre-War look to them. The front door to the building was unlocked, and she walked through it to find herself in a small anteroom, with a row of mailboxes on one side and an antiquated intercom system on the other. Nikola scanned the list of names by the intercom system and was surprised that she couldn't find Greg Richards. She realized that there were no listings for most of the apartments, including 5F, Greg's apartment. She turned around and found the mailbox for 5F. The name "Alex Miller" was clearly printed on it. Nikola checked the sheet of directions that Greg had written, thinking that she must have misread the apartment or building number. She scanned the sheet hopefully, but both were right, with little room for misinterpretation. Nikola scanned the rest of the boxes for Greg's name with no success. She was beginning to get suspicious, but tried to shrug it off, hoping that Alex might be his roommate or some other innocuous explanation. Her instincts, however, were sending out alarms. Deep down she knew she was in for trouble, but was even more afraid to turn back. She unlocked the anteroom door with one of the keys that Greg had given her and entered the building proper. There was no elevator so she walked up the four flights of stairs to apartment 5F. She knocked first and received no answer, so she let herself in with the second key Greg had provided. She found herself inside a studio apartment which was neither large enough, nor arranged for, more than one person. Okay, she thought as she closed the door behind herself, so Alex Miller isn't a roommate. Well then, who is he? Or perhaps I should ask, who is Greg?
The apartment was simply furnished, and cluttered. It looked like a stereotypical bachelor pad: the furniture was mismatched and most of it was covered with clothing and other debris. As Nikola looked around, she could easily envision the man she knew as Greg living here, it seemed to suit his style, but she needed to know the Alex Miller connection. I suppose Greg Richards could just be a pen name, but wouldn't he have told me something like that? She knew that she probably wouldn't have too much time before Greg arrived. After a second glance about the apartment, she decided that finding out what was going on here was more important than respecting his privacy, so she set to work. She began to look around: timidly at first, and then with increasing urgency and depth. The room's furniture consisted of a couch, which Nikola assumed folded out into a bed since there was no other obvious place to sleep, an armchair, a coffee table, a television on a stand, and a desk. There was a shallow alcove inset in one wall that contained a minimally utilitarian kitchenette. Nikola started her search with the coffee table. It was covered with old newspapers and magazines, but contained nothing personal. She noted the smattering of art magazines, but also noted that there was no more than one issue of any of them, and not necessarily the latest either. News-related magazines were best represented: some of them represented by a collection of issues spanning the past few months.
Nikola knew that she had to tackle the desk if she was going to get any information before she ran out of time, and braced for an encounter with it. As she approached, she noticed that the top of it was relatively neat compared to the rest of the room. An old electric typewriter took up most of its surface. It struck Nikola as odd, that a writer would work with a typewriter rather than a computer or word processor, with the later so widely available, but she was already beginning to suspect that he may not be a writer at all. Arranged around the typewriter was the typical desk paraphernalia: pens, stapler, scotch tape, scissors, and a container with paper clips. There was a space between the stapler and the pen holder, that had obviously been occupied recently, because there was a six inch square without any dust. Nikola thought that it looked like the appropriate size and shape for a desk calendar, apparently removed in anticipation of her arrival. When she had first seen the mess in the apartment, she just assumed that Greg had been too busy to clean up, but now she knew better. It seemed that he did have enough time to clean up certain things - like removing all his personal papers from sight. Whatever he was hiding, it was serious enough for him to go to some lengths to keep it from her. At the moment, it seemed highly unlikely that he would ever be the open book he mentioned to her that morning. Nikola's muscles tensed and her breath came in short, frequent gasps. She knew that when he walked through that door, she would essentially be at his mercy. She considered running, but she really had nowhere to run to, and her curiosity was getting the better of her, so she proceeded with the desk. It was an old-fashioned wooden desk, not very large, but comfortable. It had six drawers arranged in the standard configuration of three on one side, a top drawer, and two on the other side: one of which was double-height for files. She pulled on the top drawer and was dismayed to find it locked, but also more determined than ever to get in. She took a paper clip from the container on the desk, unfolded it, and began to use it on the lock, when she heard noises in the corridor. She jumped and then froze, staring intently at the door. Every nerve in her body was tensed, ready for flight. She remained in that position, perfectly still, while she listened. She could hear the person in the hallway walking, then stopping somewhere near the apartment door, but she couldn't be sure where. Then she heard the juggling of keys, followed by the sound of a key being inserted into a lock. Not until she heard that lock turn did she relax. Only then she could be sure that it was for another apartment on the floor. She let out her breath slowly in an extended sigh of relief, and proceeded to scold herself for freezing. She hadn't even opened the desk yet - if she had jumped away from it, Greg never would have known her intentions. But now she would be prepared for next time. Once Nikola realized that Greg was not immediately coming home, she went back to work on the desk lock. It didn't take her long to pick it: as it was rather flimsy and not designed for any real security. She started her search with the top drawer. Nikola found the usual assortment of pens, postage stamps, pieces of scrap paper, and other miscellaneous items that make their way into such a drawer. She ignored most of it, but checked every piece of paper in the drawer. She noticed a lot of business cards, most of which belonged to local law firms, and many pieces of scrap paper with first names and phone numbers. She didn't recognize any of them. She wondered about the names and business cards briefly, but then started a mental inventory and forced herself to move on, because she knew she didn't have much time.
She went to the left side of the desk and opened the top drawer on that side. It contained a collection of old bills, for everything from utilities to credit cards. All of them were addressed to Alex Miller. The drawer below that contained more office supplies. The left bottom drawer was the most interesting on that side. It contained a passport for Alex Miller, with a picture of the man that Nikola knew as Greg. She found the sight chilling. She had opened herself up to this man. It was a shock to finally discover for certain what she had suspected ever since she read the name Alex Miller on the mailbox. He was so completely a stranger that she did not even know his real name. The back of the left bottom drawer presented another shock, even more chilling that the passport. Hidden underneath a sheaf of unimportant papers, Nikola found a handgun. She didn't dare to touch it, or even think about it much. She just slammed the drawer and moved on. The top drawer on the right side held a collection of receipts. She looked through them as quickly as she could, glancing at supplier names. Photo shops and gas stations predominated, followed by sporting goods stores, hardware stores, men's shops, office supplies, grocery stores, book stores, and a couple of theatrical suppliers. So my old lady outfit is just one of many costumes he's purchased, she mused as she shut the receipt drawer and proceeded to the last, and biggest, drawer in the desk. The large file drawer was packed with papers, and on top of the pile was what looked like a report. Facing up was the title page, with the words, "Investigation of Nikola Hesse: Week 1" neatly typed in the center of the page. Nikola's eyes enlarged as she read the words over and over again before they could sink in. She was just about to pick it up and check its contents when she heard more footsteps in the hall. She closed the drawer slowly, and waited, hoping that the footsteps would lead away. As soon as the footsteps stopped, Nikola was sure that it was Greg (or should I call him Alex? she wondered angrily) because she clearly heard him stop in front of the apartment door. While he gathered his keys, she grabbed the twisted paper-clip and reinserted it into the desk lock in an effort to lock the desk back up again. She was surprised when the lock clicked into place on her first try. At the same time, she heard Alex's key in the main door. She jumped up from her position behind the desk and hopped over the side of the couch. She managed to land on the couch, in a sitting position, only slightly winded, by the time Alex opened the apartment door and entered the room. Next Chapter Last Chapter Nikola's Nightmares Home ClaudiaM Home
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