She opened the bathroom door and flipped on the fluorescent light, preparing to look in the mirror when the light came on. With a screech of plastic hooks along metal, the shower curtain was whipped back; a figure leaped into the room. Almost at the same instant the fluorescent light blinked and then filled the room with its raw light. There was a flash of a knife and a lightning blow to Susan’s head. She twisted backward under its impact, crashing into the wall of the bathroom. By sheer reflex her arms straightened and her hands groped to keep herself from falling. It all happened so quickly that she had no time to react. A cry had started in her throat but the blow to the head had dislodged it.
Instantly the left hand of the intruder grabbed Susan by the throat, forcing her up to her full height against the wall, her naked breasts tensing. Despite all her fantasies about what she would do if she were attacked, knees to the balls, fingernails in the eyes, Susan did nothing but breathe as best she could and gaze at her assailant in utter horror. Her eyes flung open to their very limit. The fury of the unexpected attack had been totally overwhelming. The power of the hand that held her by the throat was unmistakable. And she recognized the man. They had met on the subway platform.
“One sound and you’re dead, baby,” snarled the man, bringing the knife in his right hand up beneath Susan’s chin.
Just as suddenly and roughly as he had originally seized Susan’s throat, the man released his hold, causing Susan to stumble forward. Her assailant backhanded her brutally, and she pitched to her hands and knees, with her lip split and numerous small capillaries broken over her left cheekbone.
Hooking his foot under Susan’s shoulder, the man forced Susan to rise up on her knees. Then with a callous kick he dumped Susan backward against the wall, where she lay with one arm lewdly draped over the toilet. A trickle of blood ran down from the corner of her mouth and dropped onto a pale breast. The image of the man momentarily swam before her. When he came in focus she could see his pockmarked face crack in a fiendish grin. He was obviously relishing the thought of ravishing her. She felt numb and unable to respond.
“Too bad I’m only authorized on this visit to talk to you, or as we say in my business, to make a preliminary contact The message is simple. There’s a lot of people who are very, very unhappy with the way you have been spending your time lately. Unless you get back to your usual activities and stop getting people mad, I’ll have to come back to see you again.”
The man paused to let his message sink in. Then he continued: “And just to encourage you a little more, this boy will also get to meet me and maybe even have an unexpected, serious, and probably fatal accident.”
The man flipped a picture onto Susan’s lap. In slow motion she picked it up.
“And I’m sure you don’t want your brother, James, down there in Coopers, Maryland, to suffer from your hobbies. And I don’t have to tell you that our little meeting here is just between us. If you go to the cops, the punishment is the same.”
Without another word, the man slipped from the bathroom. Susan heard the outside door to her room open and then close quietly. The only sound was a slight buzz from the fluorescent light over the mirror. She did not move for several minutes, uncertain whether her attacker had really left. Her arm was still draped over the toilet.
As the terror subsided, confusion and emotion mounted. Tears welled up in her eyes, forming a bulging meniscus. She lifted the picture of her younger brother with his bike, smiling in front of her parents’ home. “Christ,” said Susan, shaking her head and closing her eyes tightly. As her eyes closed, the tears overflowed from her lids, running down her cheeks in profusion. There was no doubt that the photograph was authentic.