Dark Silence

18 days (1)

There were still five minutes more before the meeting when Darnell entered the cafe. The wave of visitors coming here to cheer up before a busy day off had not yet surged, and the place was empty. The waitress who was wiping tables and setting napkin holders, smiled affably at Darnell as he chose his seat.

The man sat down in a far dark corner with a good view of the front door and ordered coffee to clear up the mind. Soon, a cup of fragrant coffee appeared in front of Darnell, and the waitress silently slipped away to keep on working, deciding not to disturb the only visitor. The man took a sip of the bitter hot drink. An invigorating warmth spilled over his body, clearing his head, and he relaxed as he finally began to wake up. The minutes dragged on slowly, and Darnell glanced at the large round clock on the wall. Whoever wanted to see him today, they had already been late for 10 minutes. Maybe it was a trick and someone just wanted him to lure him out of his apartment? He shouldn't have left Madeleine alone. Darnell texted her, "Are you okay?" A few minutes later, the answer came “Yes, I’m still sleeping...”, and he calmed down at least a little bit.

Darnell's attention was drawn to the sound of bells on the door announcing the arrival of a new visitor. A tall man of strong but graceful build, in classic gray tweed trousers with a wide obviously expensive leather belt and a white tucked-in shirt, entered the cafe, looking around. A blond man with a perfectly cut butch hairdo stood sideways to Darnell, still not noticing him. He had refined aristocratic cold features that created the image of an attractive man, and a clean-shaven strong-willed chin emphasized that its owner could hardly be called a wuss. He finally looked into the far corner of the cafe and crossed eyes with Darnell, who was openly looking back at him. The man seemed to recognize him, and with a springy graceful step moved towards his goal. Sitting opposite Darnell, the newcomer held out a hand with neatly trimmed, polished nails.

“Good morning. My apologies for being late. Didn't plan to get stuck in traffic,” he said in a pleasant velvet baritone.

Darnell returned a short, firm handshake.

“What do I owe?” he asked the stranger while he was making an order from the waitress who immediately jumped up and was desperately blushing from embarrassment.

“You probably don't know who I am,” the man replied. “My name is Raymond Mayerson, I am the chairman of the executive board of directors of the ADA Agency, where you actually work.”

“So, loosely speaking, you're my owner,” Darnell smirked.

“You can say so,” Raymond flashed with a polite snow-white smile. “Although I would call myself the main funder of this organization.”

A cup of espresso appeared in front of him. Darnell looked around awkwardly. An ordinary establishment did not suit the person who sat in front of it. An expensive watch glittered on the man's wrist, the shirt was clearly branded. Probably, more than one stylist has worked on his hairstyle, let alone a million-dollar smile. And least of all, the image of this successful man matched with Darnell's constant sloppiness and messiness.

“So how did I ‘earn’ your personal attention?” he asked, feeling uncomfortable in the company of such an interlocutor. For some reason, his instinct began to insist that something was hidden under this perfect sparkling shell that no one would like if it came to the surface.

“I'm not going to beat around the bush,” Mayerson began. “I studied your personal file the other day, and I'm quite interested in you. You have been working in the Agency quite for a while, participating actively in its life, but you have not been able to receive proper recognition, despite all your merits and skills.”

Hearing that, Darnell tensed. Why would such a high hat, whom he had never seen before, study his personal file?

“Perhaps,” he nodded. “But it doesn't bother me too much. I’m doing the job and that's it.”

“You know,” Raymond spoke quieter to make his interlocutor listen more attentively to his words, “a man of your age with such potential could have achieved much more than you did. You are not appreciated at all.” There was bitterness in his voice as if he really worried about Darnell's career success. “Just remember how many times you were accused of recklessness during assignments? Did anyone realize that behind this there was real selflessness?"

“What? What selflessness are you talking about? Altruism is definitely the last point on my list of virtues.”

“You are wrong, this very quality is present in you…” Raymond continued.

"Yeah, I’m almost hitting the chandelier with my halo," Darnell laughed.

Mayerson, interrupted in mid-sentence, stared at his interlocutor. A moment's confusion flashed across his face at the bad joke he had heard. It suddenly changed to violent anger, which immediately disappeared, as if the man had lost his temper for a second. Raymond regained his polite neutral expression and continued.

“Please be so kind not to interrupt me,” he said with a forced smile. Darnell noticed in his gaze the raging anger for the frivolity that someone allowed to address to him.

“Yes, I'm sorry,” Darnell said hastily, backing down.

“So,” Raymond turned his cup of coffee in a circle, “don't you think that a person of your level could already be, let’s say, in charge of the department?”

“Ewing is in charge of it now,” Darnell noted. “And I'm not actually eager to obtain an executive position.”

“Wouldn't you want to prove to everyone that you worth a lot?” Mayerson raised his dark-brown eyes at Darnell. “Maybe even instill fear in your subordinates? Make them toe the line with just one glance, and unquestioningly follow your orders?”

The more the man spoke, the less Darnell liked what he heard. Those were the ideas that sometimes seemed to slip from his inner demon - the will for cruel power and domination over everyone around. And also, there could have been a lot of information in his personal file, but there was unlikely a mark claiming “employees consider this guy to be an empty place”.

“What do you want from me?” Darnell straightened out. He had little interest in the prospects outlined by Raymond, but he wanted to fish the real motives from him that led to this meeting.

“One can see a man of action right away,” Mayerson smiled back. “You do have one special assignment right now, right?”

“I always have plenty of assignments,” Darnell replied cagily.

“But not lately,” his interlocutor shook his head. “Mr. Ewing has assigned you to deal with a case of one orphan. I would like to... how can I tell you…” Raymond thoughtfully raised his eyes to the ceiling. Darnell noticed that under the collar of his shirt glittered a massive jewelry chain, made of either silver or white gold. Given the wealth of its owner, rather the latter. “I would ask you not to lead this case to the end,” Mayerson lowered his eyes back to the interlocutor and smiled. “Do not worry, I am sure that this will have a positive impact on your career and, of course, on your financial situation.”

For Darnell, everything instantly fell into place, but at the same time, he was overwhelmed by what he heard. He could somehow understand the attempts of various demons to mess with him and prevent him from doing his business. But there was definitely a human sitting in front of him. And it turned out that he was directly connected with what happened to Madeleine. Did Mayerson have a pact with some demon? But he didn’t look like a man who had given a payment for his desire. Darnell could easily determine such people by eye. They all had the same disappointed expression on their faces and an empty glance. But was Raymond the person who bought the memory vessel from Hilbert? Most likely not, then it was someone who worked for him. But why did he come in person this time? Did he want to see his enemy in the face? Or hoped to scare him away?

"I'm afraid I can't agree to that," Darnell replied calmly, looking Raymond in the eyes not showing the slightest sign of fear or agreement to give away to his authority. Raymond had a really hard look. His eyes were like two dark gaps, at the bottom of which the true ill intentions of their owner were hidden, which at the same time did not match with his such a light and attractive appearance. But Darnell was never afraid of that. He did not even understand how one could be afraid of someone's gaze: for him, eyes were only organs of vision - nothing more. Mayerson stood up to his glance challenge with dignity. Thin light eyebrows slowly moved to the bridge of the nose, and the social glued smile slipped from his face.

“You answered exactly as I expected.” Raymond leaned back on the soft couch, and Darnell thought he was facing a completely different person: cold, calculating and, it seemed, completely unprincipled. “There’s nothing to hook you up with. You value nothing, not even your own life, and you do not strive for anything. You have nothing to lose. There are really not many people like you,” Mayerson grinned, “actually, as well as half-breeds.” He narrowed his eyes, and Darnell saw a baleful spark in them. “I wish I could study you.”

“Why do you need Madeleine?” He asked, trying to keep his composure. The first thing he would do when he left the cafe was to report this conversation to Ewing. If, of course, he was let go.

“Take the risk of finding out if you can,” Raymond answered.

He stood up, letting his interlocutor understand that the audience was over. Mayerson pulled a large bill from an expensive leather purse, enough to cover both orders and provide the waitress with a decent tip, placed it next to his coffee that he didn’t even take a sip, and walked out of the cafe, leaving Darnell to reflect on their meeting.

The only thing that the man could clearly understand from this conversation was that Raymond was directly interested in Madeleine and somehow connected with her tragedy. It remained to find out the exact connection - and the case could be considered closed. Darnell took out his cell phone and dialed Ewing. The answer came almost immediately.

“Yes.”

“Good morning, this is O'Dell,” Darnell introduced himself just in case.

“I know, I have your number saved in the phone book, even though you never answer my calls! Did something happen?”

“I can say so. There is the possibility that I’ve found the one that made the whole mess with Madeleine. But this is not a telephone conversation.”

“I'm in the office now,” the boss replied. “Come.”

“Are you at the office on Saturday?” Darnell surprised.

“Imagine that yes! Some have to work much more than you do! I'll leave by noon, if you don't make it in time, you'll have to wait until Monday.” Ewing hung up before Darnell could reply.

The man left the cafe and went to the office to see his boss.

***

Ewing listened attentively to Darnell’s story. It even seemed to him that the slow nodding of the boss during the narration meant agreement and acceptance of Darnell's guesses as the truth, but he was wrong. When he finished, inspired by his almost victory, Ewing sighed and asked:

“Were there any witnesses to your conversation?”

“Well, I talked to him,” Darnell replied, not understanding what his boss was leading to.

“No,” he shook his head, “I'm asking you, were there any other bystanders of your conversation, whose evidence could be added to the case?”

The man became overwhelmed with anger. This question meant only one thing: he didn’t believe Darnell's version of Raymond's involvement in Madeleine's case. Only his word, not confirmed by anyone else, wasn’t enough, as usual though. He leaned over to Ewing and replied rudely:

“There was one. John Doe was his name.”

Ewing sighed, like a man who was so tired of everything that happened around him. He folded his hands in front of him and asked Darnell:

"Do you realize who Raymond Mayerson is?"

“Yes,” Darnell replied, turning away.

“Looks like not fully. He is the main investor of our Agency. He, in fact, pays salaries to all of us, both to me and you. We live off clients' money and his money.”

“So now what?” Darnell snapped. “If he's a big shot, he has an immunity by default?”

“That's not what I meant,” Ewing said carefully. “I do not deny that your meeting took place today. But you must understand, until I have real evidence of this man's involvement in Madeleine's tragedy in my hands, I would not advise you to announce your guesses here and there. This may have consequences. For many.”

“So, in your opinion, I got out of bed this morning, being the smartest of them all, and thought to myself - why wouldn’t I go to the boss on the weekend and tell my brilliant fictional story about meeting with a person about whose existence I didn’t even know before?” Darnell didn’t notice that he almost broke into a shout.

“Pull yourself together, O'Dell!” his boss checked him sharply. “I told you - go, look for evidence of his involvement! If you find it, then we can give the case an official course, but for now, this is nothing more than your conjectures based on one single conversation. Besides, you understand by yourself that he has access to all the cases of the Agency, so he doesn’t lack information. He could just find out something by himself and tried to discuss it with you…”

“Offering me to take your place?” Darnell chuckled and stood up, not wanting to continue the conversation. “I wonder if you would react more lively and interested if I agreed to his offer and brought you the letter of your resignation instead of this dialogue?”

Ewing turned purple in response to this remark but said nothing. Darnell left his office feeling extremely irritated. Luckily, no one got in his way in the empty office. The man looked around the empty tables, wondering what to do next, and went out into the street. If Mayerson was interested in Madeleine, it would be better to fortify the apartment more. The balcony door was still a weak point. Darnell decided to head back to the mall to find a better latch. Of course, a person would not be able to get to the balcony of the fifth floor that easily, but it would not be a problem for a demon with wings or for some spirit. Even though Darnell outlined the whole apartment with protecting symbols, once someone did manage to drag something inside that was eaten by Agnes’s cat, so additional locks won’t hurt.