“You want it to appear like an accident?” Willy asked. Such an assignment would be difficult.
“Whatever,” Lester said.
“Just get the job done. The Wing Sin will supply you with a weapon. And even if the woman’s not around, kill Williams anyway. He’s been a thorn in our sides ever since he wrote that damned paper.”
Willy rang off, pleased with his assignment. Knowing Hong Kong as well as he did, it would be an easy one.
Walking over to the charter desk, Willy leaned over.
“There’s been a change,” he said to the agent.
“I’m going to Sydney, not Brisbane.”
April 14, 1990 8:00 Am.
A faint knock on her door roused Marissa. She decided to ignore it. She rolled over and stuck her head under the pillow.
Despite the pillow, she heard a second knock.
Propping herself up on one elbow, she asked who was at the door. She heard a muffled voice. Throwing back the covers, she slipped into a hotel bathrobe and went to the door. She repeated her question.
“Room service,” a voice said.
“I didn’t order room service,” Marissa said.
“Room 604,” the voice said through the door.
“Breakfast for eight o’clock.”
Marissa unlocked the door and opened it. She barely had it open before the person waiting barreled in.
“Surprise!” Tristan said, jumping ahead of the room service cart. He handed Marissa a bouquet of flowers.
“You didn’t order breakfast, but I did. Breakfast for two.” Tristan directed the porter to set up the table by the window overlooking the harbor.
Marissa shook her head. She never knew whether to be pleased or irritated by Tristan’s pranks.
“I’ve been out and about since sunrise,” Tristan said.
“It’s a glorious day.” He came back and snatched the flowers from Marissa’s hand. She hadn’t moved from the door. Returning to the table, he stuck the blossoms into a vase he had ready for them.
“What are you standing around for?” Tristan asked, seeing that Marissa had not budged.
“We’ve got a busy day. Get a move on!”
Marissa headed for the bathroom. As she closed the door behind her she saw the porter back out of the door to the hall.
Marissa looked at herself in the mirror over the sink. What she saw frightened her. Her skin was sallow. There were dark circles under her eyes. Her hair hung down limply with none of its usual luster. Then she glanced in the full-length mirror behind the door.
That made her feel a bit better; at least she was losing some of the weight she’d gained on the hormones.
“I’ll be anxiously waiting in my room,” Tristan called through the door.
“Give a yell when you’re ready for the tucker,” Marissa smiled in spite of herself. Tristan’s playful behavior, his good humor, and his Australian dialect were a balm for her troubled soul. Moment to moment she couldn’t anticipate which bad thoughts would plague her: Wendy’s violent death, her deteriorating relationship with Robert, her life that was generally in ruins, or her inability to conceive.
Marissa’s smile faded as she thought about her life. There didn’t seem to be much more that could go wrong. On top of everything else she still didn’t feel physically or mentally normal, even though she’d been off the hormones for a week. She wondered when her old equilibrium would return.
A shower, some makeup, and clean clothes helped improve Marissa’s spirits. When she was ready, she rapped on the connecting door. Tristan instantly appeared. They breakfasted in front of the window with a view of Hong Kong Island in the distance. As they ate, the green mountains slowly emerged from their enveloping morning mist.
“I already ordered a limo as you suggested,” Tristan said as they sat back to enjoy their coffee.
“I told the concierge we wanted an experienced driver. He said that all their drivers were experienced.”
“What’s our schedule?” Marissa asked.
“First we should go to the bank where I wired the money,” Tristan said.
“After the experience last night, I have a feeling that we’ll be needing a lot of squeeze. Then I thought we’d follow through with your other suggestions and visit one of the hospitals.