The waiter rolled in the trolley at the same time as Smith walked out of the bathroom. The amount of food surprised me. There was a potato dish, smoked salmon, roasted chicken wings, a Caesar salad, and a cheese plate.
"Orange juice? Hm, I thought I asked Mark for wine," muttered Smith.
"I told him to bring orange juice. I don't want you to get drunk. Besides, you're still under arrest. So, no alcohol for you," I retorted. I didn't look at him, but I knew he was smirking. No matter what I said or did, he always reacted that way.
"Your friend is extremely generous. Have you told him that we don't have any money?" I enquired. We moved the trolley so that it stood between the bed I sat on, and the desk chair Smith occupied.
"Mark knows we're in some kind of trouble. I haven't told him exactly what had happened, but he has my back. He's a good friend and won't charge me anything for this," he replied.
Smith was fully confident in his friend, but I lived long enough in Gaul to know that it was risky to rely on someone's loyalty. I kept my thoughts to myself and changed the topic.
"I don't think you were completely honest with me, Smith. This insane pursuit is not just for the money you stole from the mob. The mob won't send a whole army of assassins to catch a thief. How did they find us? I can only assume they saw us on the thrift store security cameras. The manager gave them the driver's address. Thank God, the man and his family weren't home because something tells me that the Arnavuts wouldn't spare anyone's life, whether they caught us or not. I can't get rid of the feeling that all of this is too much trouble for an Anglo-Saxon fraud. So, I ask you again: what have you done, Smith?"
Smith started his potato dish as I was setting out my thoughts to him. He listened carefully to me, displaying exaggerated interest in everything I said, while chewing on a piece of chicken. When I finished speaking, he took a napkin from the trolley and flamboyantly wiped his mouth.
"I'm so privileged being in the presence of such a beautiful woman like you. And smart. Very smart. You're right. I haven't told you everything. It's not just about the money. But before I tell you what really happened, I want you to know that once you find out the truth, you'll stop being a clueless, kidnapped cop and turn into a witness instead. A witness the mob will have to get rid of," he fell silent, waiting for my reaction.
I don't know what I was thinking of. I guess I wanted for something adventurous to happen in my life. Any normal person would have retreated after hearing the words Arnavut mob. But I didn't. Curiosity killed the cat they say but I couldn't help it. I wanted to know what Smith was involved in, so I nodded in agreement.
"The file in your database isn't complete. Recently, the Marshes police arrested me, but you haven't seen any mention of that. They made a deal with me. If I brought them evidence of the head of Shortridge police having a share in the Arnavut mob business, they'd forget some of my past wrongdoings. So, I agreed," he stopped abruptly to eat some Caesar salad.
"So, you have gathered evidence?" I asked impatiently.
"Yes, I have," he exposed his chest by unfolding the collar of his bathrobe, showing a silver necklace with a cylinder-shaped pendant, "you see this? This is what they're after. It's a USB flash drive. The footage I took on my phone of the transaction between the police and the mob is on it."
"And now we're in the very heart of the lion's den," I whispered, looking at the B&B 4 U room service menu with the address of the hotel written on it. I didn't know where the police station was situated. Shortridge was a big and dense city. However, the realisation of being on enemy ground made that town claustrophobically small.
I watched Smith eat and talk about all kinds of trivialities, although I was more interested in finding out how he got in contact with the mob disguised as a drug dealer, but he didn't seem to be eager to share that information with me. I decided to shower and then go to bed because I was exhausted.
"Don't you have to handcuff me, Officer?" Smith asked with a cheeky smile.
"No. After what you've told me I don't think it will be necessary. There is nowhere for you to run to, except for the Marshes. If we stay together, we'll have a chance to survive," I opened the bathroom door.
"Wait, Officer! I think I'll be asleep by the time you're finished. I want you to know that I'm a sleepwalker. So, if something unusual happens at night, don't be scared and don't try to wake me up."
"Oh, really? And what if you start strangling me? I don't know what your sleepwalker habits are but if it threatens my life, I'll kick your ass!" I didn't believe he was an actual sleepwalker, although I heard him talk in his sleep the previous night. Maybe it was true, maybe not. Smith lied about so many things.
"Don't worry about that. Usually, I just get out of bed, stand in front of the wall for an hour, or walk around the room. Make sure to lock the door, so I won't go out on the street!" he chuckled.
I spent extra time in the bathroom, soaking my body in hot water until I felt lightheaded. I didn't feel like dealing with Smith after, so I hoped that by the time I was finished he would be dormant. And indeed, after drying my hair I walked into a dark room, with the TV switched off and Smith already fast asleep.
It wasn't even that late, but we were both worn out. I found my way by touch and crawled under the covers in my bathrobe. Instantly upon feeling the soft pillow under my head I dozed off.
It must have been past midnight when I opened my eyes. I felt something heavy on my shoulder, thinking it was just numbness. The chilly air of the badly heated room made me shiver. I wanted to pull the covers up when I realised that the weight on my shoulder was Smith's head.
He had pulled down the right panel of my bathrobe to suck on my breast. I was groggy from sleep but the petrification of what was happening to me soon made me fully awake.
"Smith? Smith! Stop! Wake up!" I whimpered.
The obscene slurping noises he made as his wet lips swallowed my nipple made my skin crawl. He grabbed my other breast and gently kneaded it. I struggled to push him off, but he was too heavy. Smith didn't respond when I slapped him. I figured he was sleepwalking. The more I tried to release myself from him, the more I felt his body weighing down on me. At some point, I almost succeeded in slipping out from under him, but he slithered his huge hands over my back to my shoulders, grabbed me, and pushed me back underneath.
"Oh, no! Smith! Don't!" I exhaled as he parted his lips and gulped my breast down his mouth.
Thankfully, I wore underwear but Smith, being the free-spirited Anglo-Saxon he was, didn't wear any under his bathrobe. He became more excited in his sleep and started to grind his hips against mine.
"Mummy, I love you so much," he mumbled in between the slurps.
I got goosebumps and felt my body tense up as I heard him saying that. From the first day, I suspected that Smith was mad, but I had no idea of how deep his insanity went. I considered using his Oedipus complex to persuade him into letting go of me.
"John? Johnny?" I tried to reach through to his subconsciousness, "Mummy is tired, Johnny. Be a good boy and let Mummy sleep."
I caressed his face and ran my fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly with my nails as his head moved up and down.
"Please, Mummy!" he moaned, increasing the thrusting force of his pelvis.
"No, Johnny!" I tried to make my voice sound stern despite the anxiety, "Mummy was sleeping, and you woke her up! Mummy is very tired. Go back to sleep or she'll have to punish you!"
I improvised on the spot and had no clue what effect it would have on Smith but at least he responded. He stopped sipping and rested his head on my chest. I listened to his heartbeat gradually calming down simultaneously with the feverish pulse pounding in my veins.
"Okay, Mummy. I'll be a good boy," he hummed and got off me. He turned on his right side, with his back to me. I heard him whisper something unintelligible before he started snoring.
"Jezus Christ, Smith!"
I jumped out of bed and locked myself up in the bathroom. I had to take a shower to wash away Smith's saliva off my body. Besides, to my own embarrassment that incident had aroused me. There was no way I would fall asleep after that. And sleeping in the same bed with Smith was out of the question. My clothes had dried. I put them on, took the pillow, and installed myself on the floor, using the bathrobe as a cover.
Somehow, I managed to sleep for a couple of hours. I woke up because I heard someone knock on the door, calling Smith in a subdued voice. It was four o'clock in the morning. I stood up and switched on the light. Smith complained and covered his face under the blanket.
When I opened the door, I found Mark standing on the threshold. By the guilty look in his eyes, I instantly understood he had ratted us out. I smirked and turned my back on him.
"Smith? Mark wants to tell you something," I sneered. Mark went ahead to the bedroom and almost tripped over my pillow on the ground. He gave me a side glance but avoided looking into my eyes.
"John! I'm so sorry, buddy! I had to tell them you were here. If they found out I was hiding you, they would kill me!" he drivelled.
I couldn't stand listening to Mark's whiny voice. I started gathering my belongings so as not to punch the Gaul in the face.
"How could you, Mark? I trusted you!" Smith sat on the bed, dishevelled from his sleep, looking devastated at the man he used to call his friend.
"I'm sorry, man," Mark repeated, "they're on their way now to the hotel. You still have time to escape. You can take my car," he suggested, taking out his car keys.
"No. They'll track down the licence plate. Smith, put on your clothes. We're leaving, now!"
Mark stood in a corner, watching us getting ready in haste to leave his hospitable guest house. We left through a back door in the kitchen. Using side streets, we fled from the touristic district and headed towards the train station.