BREAKDOWN

 

I had problems keeping my mouth shut in the police station, too.

“Well, because after all that time Linda had been free-lodging at our place, she realized our life in the States would be ruined as Secret Service would be all over us, so she promised to move us with her to Paris.”

“To Paris?”

“Yes, Paul Allen was supposed to help us.”

The detective was writing down the name. “P-a-u-l... How do you spell Allen?”

“With ‘e’ and double ‘l’.”

“OK. What’s this man’s relationship with Linda?”

“They were engaged, I believe you could also say they had business relationship as well.”

“Can you describe what Mr. Allen looks like?”

“Well you can probably take any issue of Forbes Magazine, The Wall Street Journal or search on the Internet. He is the second richest man in the world.”

“Never heard of him.”

When the detective said that, I knew that this guy really had no idea what was happening. I was free to ‘sell’ him any story I wanted. “The guy is co-founder of Microsoft with Bill Gates.”

“Oh yes, that rings a bell.”

“That was whole reason why we came to New York. He was our contact that was supposed to get us to Paris.”

“I see… Tell me, why the Waldorf Astoria? Couldn’t you go to some cheaper place? Was Linda in a league that big?” Detective Chow was exploring every possibility.

“We simply had to go there. She could not contact Paul because she was under surveillance.” I was intentionally saying ‘she’, trying to put the blame on her. “And the only way to meet Paul was to come to Waldorf Astoria as we were sure he would be there to celebrate 20th anniversary of IBM PC. IBM launched personal computer in Waldorf Astoria on 12th of August 1981, so it only made sense to book same venue for anniversary celebration.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“No, they did not come.” I felt a dose of embarrassment.

“What happened?”

“They changed plans. They celebrated it in Silicon Valley, not in New York.”

“Good. Something else I don’t understand. You are telling me that the Secret Service was after Linda because she had an affair with President Bush.”

“Bush Junior.”

“Yes, I understand, the current President. When did that happen?”

“Years ago, even before he became Governor of Texas, when Madonna was still brunette.”

“What I don’t understand is why would he wait until now? I guess the whole thing was equally damaging for him even as a Governor of Texas.”

“Probably. Honestly speaking, I don’t know.” I tried to leave out the blackmailing bit. “He got reminded of their relationship recently. Maybe because of that reminder, or it maybe that he now had enough power to cover everything up once and for all.”

“Wait a moment.” The detective wanted to clarify something important. “You said the President was reminded about the relationship. By whom?”

“I guess by Linda as they met recently.”

“Do you know what they talked about?”

“I really don’t know.”

“Did she maybe ask the President for a favor or threaten him in any way?”

I was feeling more and more on fire. I tried to avoid answering it straight. “I doubt she would ever do anything like that.” I was satisfied with how I handled the question. Right then, somebody opened the door and called to speak with the detective.

“Mike, can you come here for a moment?”

The detective got up and quickly said to me, “I won’t be long.”

***

“That interrogation was killing me. I was really scared,” I told Daniel.

“You survived the war…”

“Series of wars.”

“Exactly, series of wars and you are telling me that you were scared of the police investigation?”

“It’s different kind of scared. I did not know what would follow. I was thinking that this time destiny was in my hands.”

“Yes, that could be nasty.”

“That’s why I was really nervous and anxious. I couldn’t wait for whole thing to finish.”

Daniel just smiled. “Why do you think they left you alone in the room in the first place?”

“To observe me through that one-way mirror.”

“Nooo. That’s a minor thing. They wanted to bring you to the state you just mentioned: wanting to finish everything, no matter what. To break you.”

“They succeeded.”

“I am really surprised. I’ve always believed that people who went through a war were tougher than others. I could see in their eyes that they had a different perspective on life.”

“They were simply traumatized… You must have seen many of those people.”

“You have no idea. Actually, if you ask me, I believe that every man needs one war in his lifetime. Just to put life in the right perspective!”

I was shocked! “That’s really crazy idea.”

“I thought you of all people would understand me.”

“You are crazy.” I really couldn’t believe my ears. In an instant I lost that feeling of anxiety from the police station that I had felt in my guts only moments ago.

“Do you know why Franco kept bullfights - corrida de toros?”

“Who?”

“Franco, Spanish fascist dictator.”

“Ah, I know.” I remembered the civil war. “Why?”

“He was afraid of potential contra-revolution. People needed to see some blood occasionally. It was much better to give them corrida than to force them to find some other ways. Why do you think Hollywood is making all those action movies? Where did Tarantino come from?”

“Come on.” I couldn’t believe it. “You are telling that movie production was controlled by some circle of world rulers.”

“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that these movies are allowed and even supported by decision makers and MPAA. You know, in France you won’t be able to find movies on TV with that much violence, but instead, sex is abundant.”

“Well, French approach sounds more logical to me.”

“Yes, but don’t forget that is Europe, where there are still plenty of people who distinctly remember a war on their own soil. Although many Americans served in the military, it’s different when you are an occupying force. That’s why they need that crude blood thing.”

“And that’s why we have Quentin Tarantino’s movies?” I asked.

“Yes. However, that still doesn’t come close to the reality of death, something that only wars can bring, when all you think about is survival. With the exception of traffic accidents and terminal illnesses, people in peaceful parts of the world don’t fully appreciate the life they have. You know what I’m trying to say?”

***

I thought I was going to die. Actually, I wished I would just get a heart attack and die. Fortunately, that thought left me quickly, but those minutes when I was alone in the room with a huge glass screen felt like ages. Again, I went through all the questions and words I said to the detective. The most important thing was not to contradict what I had said before. Hopefully, Selma would be clever enough not to mention every single detail. I was thinking that everything I said was the truth and even if Selma had opened her big mouth, any eventual differences in our stories could be attributed to our different interpretation of events.

I was staring at myself in the mirror, but I didn’t like what I saw. It was obvious that I was under tremendous stress. I felt like biting my fingernails, but I did my best not to. I knew that I shouldn’t shake my leg or do anything that could make me look even more suspicious to the guys behind the mirror. I was sure that Detective Chow was looking at me. Suddenly, a scarier scenario crept into my mind. What if the Secret Service found out that I had been arrested and they were briefing detective Chow about the whole thing and telling him what he should do with me? Or maybe they were sorting out jurisdictions and authorities so they could take me from the police. I was trapped and I couldn’t do anything about it apart from playing cool while I was boiling inside.

I don’t know how much time had passed since detective Chow left me alone, but when the door opened and I saw that he was alone, I felt a rush of relief. He was carrying a folder which he threw on the desk as he sat.

“Sorry for the wait, Zoran. Before we continue, can you tell me if this is Linda?” The detective opened the folder with some papers and a photo on top. It was a poor quality security video snap from the Waldorf Astoria. I was in the photo as well.

“Yes, that is Linda.”

“This is not really a clear snapshot. Can you confirm if this is Linda?” He showed me another photo. This one was of much better quality. It was a mug shot, a mug shot of Linda. Just a couple of years younger and more beautiful. She looked stunning, despite the occasion. But I was certain that was her.

I didn’t understand what was going on. Obviously, it wasn’t a fresh photo. Linda had been arrested before? Why didn’t she tell me that? Then again, it could have been something really innocent like drink driving or some sort of activism or civil disobedience. After all, I think that I saw Bill Gates’ mug shot somewhere. I was sure that it must have been a student riot, or… then I felt shivers down my spine – they were planting stuff on Linda so they could turn me against her. The detective started talking.

“I have some probably not so good news.”

“Such as?” I knew what was going to follow. Lies, lies and more lies. I was trying to look calm, but I was aware that this meant that the Secret Service had contacted NYPD. Not good at all.

“OK, first of all Linda’s real name is not Linda.” Detective Chow was being cautious and choosing his words carefully.

“She is not Linda?” I felt relieved. Stupid detective. She was extra careful in concealing her identity so nobody could trace her back even if I turned her in, and this guy thought this would be the end of the world for me. What an idiot. This was the best thing he could say to me.

Mike continued. “Her real name is Paula Horrocks. She is wanted in four states.”

“Wanted for what?” I was curious to find out what they had created to discredit her.

However, what he told me was completely unexpected. “Paula is a con artist.”

***

“Con artist?” Daniel was really surprised by the turn of events. “If that was really all the creation of a con artist, she could’ve earned more money writing screenplays for Hollywood blockbusters or writing gossip columns instead of going out of her way for all this trouble.”

“I know. It was really unbelievable. However, while detective was explaining whole story, I realized that it could be good idea for me to pretend that his story was correct, as an easy way out.”

“I understand. To pretend that you understand that she tricked you and that the President is innocent, so they can leave you alone.” Daniel and I were finally on the same wavelength.

“Exactly! I decided to hold to this story until they let me see Selma, but then they told me that I was still under arrest, and secondly, that Selma didn’t ever want to see me again.”

“What?”

“I was out of it. They said Selma knew I was sleeping with Linda, or Paula, and now when I destroyed everything we worked for all these years she was sick of me.”

“They said all that to you?”

“Not at first, but later on.”

The truth was, I did not keep my cool.

***

Detective Chow was telling me about the charges against Linda. “She is probably the best con artist there is.”

My first reaction was denial. “No, that’s impossible. Did Secret Service make whole story for you and give you mug shot?” I looked at the photo in disbelief. I took the photo and my hand started shaking. I didn’t know what to believe. It was a possibility I had neglected. I asked the detective: “Why was she arrested?”

“Fraud. I am telling you she is one of the most talented con artists in America, doing all sorts of really original frauds. That’s why we are having a hard time trying to get her. We need you to help us.”

“Oh, God. Oh, God.” I was losing my sanity. I was desperate; I didn’t have the strength to play games with the police. “Can you please swear to me that this is all true and not received from federal agent in dark suit?”

Detective Chow smiled compassionately. “I know it is hard to believe, but unfortunately, she is just a con artist. How much money did she take from you?”

Momentarily, the entire room started spinning around my head. I was losing it. “She did not take much cash. Maybe thousand dollars and she cost me several thousands more, but no way that she would do all this to me just for few grand.” I started to doubt the story.

“A few thousand dollars for a month of not doing any work. That sounds OK to me. Don’t forget that we think she has a pathological compulsive disorder that makes her create all these stories.”

“Now she is crazy too.” I was losing my temper.

“I am really sorry. But she is just a con artist and not President Bush’s ex-lover.”

***

Daniel was astonished by the whole story. “Do you know where she is?”

“You must be kidding me! Of course I don’t know where she is.”

“So, she disappeared.”

“Yes. Nobody knows where she is.”

“What happened to you?” Daniel sounded empathetic. “Did they let you go home?”

“Which home? You forgot, I rented it out year in advance.”

“Oh no. I completely forgot about that.” Daniel was surprised again. “You were really screwed.”

“I screwed myself. I invested all money from rent and from car I sold, as well as my best friend’s savings in that eGrave business.”

“At least you have the shares. I hope they are worth something,” Daniel tried to console me.

“I never got any shares. eGrave went bust before IPO.”

“You think it was Linda again?”

“I don’t know. It must have been part of plan, but company really existed.”

“Did you manage to get any leads to Linda through them?”

“I found the company, but don’t forget that no matter how much money that was to me, I really had minor share. As they just went bust, it was risk I took. It was nothing illegal done with my money. They just filed for bankruptcy three days after I invested all that money.”

“I would still read this as a confirmation that she was just a con artist.” Daniel tried to clarify things. “So it was much more than several thousand dollars.”

“It was around twenty grand all-together. That’s how much I lost.”

“Don’t get me wrong, but it’s not that much.”

“It’s fortune for me.”

“I know, but all that effort for only twenty grand… Although, in a way it was a very smart move by her, in that she gave you no real incentive to pursue her. It would probably cost you much more than that if you had decided to track her down. That could have been her strategy,” Daniel was elaborating aloud.

“Makes sense. Especially because it took me much time to sum up all loses. I naïvely said to that detective that it was couple thousands. It was ten times more.”

“I can understand that, because you spent that money through many different channels. What I am trying to figure out is how she was able to get all that money off of you. Otherwise, there is no payoff for her, if she was really a con artist.”

“I was inclined to believe she was. However, after what you told me about Microsoft ruling I can say that whole thing could also just be extremely unfortunate timing for investing. I am sure you know everything about the dot.com boom and that I wasn’t only one losing money.”

“Well, many of those dot.com CEOs were a kind of con artists with IT degrees and expensive suits.” Daniel tried to lighten things up, but I ignored him and kept going with my story.

“Also after they told me I cannot see Selma, I was suspicious. I had nervous breakdown, started smashing things in room, so they locked me up first and then they sent me to secure psychiatric hospital with all really crazy people. Man, there were some scary faces.”

“They made sure you believed the story.”

“You could say that. I was under drugs, but unfortunately not enough to be brainwashed as I still remember everything, and it is awfully painful.