Immortal Beauty (6 page)

“Yes I am. I forgot my key and the concierge is nowhere to be found. Could I please use your phone to call my fiancé? He has an extra key.” She sounded a little bothered and frightened.

“Of course!” Ellen reached out her hand in the friendliest fashion. “My name is Ellen, and I’ve been here about two years now. You will love living here and the neighborhood is fabulous.” She was trying her best to sound worldly and chic and then crashed into mediocrity once more. “Gosh! I’m so excited! Finally another American in the building! We have to stick together you know….you have no idea how lonely living in Paris can be.” She was gushing now and could not stop herself. “Or maybe you do know? Have you lived in Paris long? Are you just moving here?” Her lips would not stop moving no matter how hard she tried. The woman smiled again at her as if she were utterly amused that the little mouse had roared a little.

“Oh no. I’ve just moved here last week. I’ve been staying at a hotel in Passy, but I love Montmartre. I wouldn’t dream of living anywhere else in Paris.” She shook Ellen’s hand lightly; afraid she might crush the little woman’s hand if she squeezed too hard. “Now all I have to do is learn French. You see, I’m just no good at it and so many people here speak English here that it hasn’t been much of a problem yet.” She chatted away as she walked into Ellen’s apartment. There was no one present to see the dark heavy door close behind them.

FRANKIE

Francois Rene LeVoyer stood at the front of Celgen’s Corporation headquarters in Paris. It was vastly impressive as it was intended to be. It was really an old Paris building reworked with so much glass and steel it almost looked as if the landmark hotel was being devoured by some alien technology. Ultra modern, it was a bit ugly on the aesthetic scale, but knowing the president of the company the building suited her perfectly. Modern, chic, imposing: these were all the qualities that made Celine D’Aumont who she was today. He smiled at the thought of just walking right into her lair. After evading her successfully for so long he was now about to waltz in and gather as much data from her office as he could get away with. He was not worried about the security or the endless video cameras in every corridor. She would never go to the police, especially now at such a critical point in her company’s career. Next week she would announce a newly developed anti-aging technology unlike any the public or private sector had ever seen. It was certain that her stocks would go up, and her face had already begun to appear everywhere. America was sending scores of reporters begging for an interview but all had been denied. All except for one reporter and Frankie was pretty sure he knew why Celine had chosen him. He took a deep breath and headed through the sliding doors. Everything in sight was composed of some shade of gray. All the fixtures were steel. It was all so cold and so very sterile. It had about as much warmth as Celine did but again he thought it suited her perfectly. It was designed to impose and intimidate. Frankie was not taken in for one moment. It was all smoke and mirrors to him. His small frame pushed through the dozens of clients and employees mostly unnoticed. He was dressed professionally in a dark gray suit and seemed to blend in perfectly with his surroundings. As he walked toward the elevators he was halted by one of the security guards.

“Excusez moi Monsieur. Avez vouz une carte securite?’ Frankie smiled and pretended not to understand. The guard tried again rather impatiently and this time in English. “I said, do you have your security card?” Frankie said nothing and continued to smile. He stared blatantly into the eyes of the towering guard and looked directly into his mind. He moved in closer without once taking his eyes away from the now bewildered man.

“I’m sorry. I must have left it in my home. I knew I forgot something.” He boldly placed his hand on the arm of the uniformed man. His stare was becoming hypnotic. He was mesmerizing the guard simply with a smile and his uncompromising gaze. Frankie began to see the man’s memories in his mind. Every secret seemed to come rushing to the surface of the man’s brain. The woman that he had slept with two nights earlier and he didn’t even know her name. The crazy things he had done in those few brief hours of lust. The lies he told his wife. This strange little man knew everything about him and for the first time in his life the guard felt a sense of relief. In that one brief encounter he experienced a few seconds of extreme gratitude that someone on the planet knew all of his secrets and he was not being judged. For the first time in his life he simply was. At this moment the guard would have given Frankie anything he had asked for. Frankie leaned in closer and whispered to the man who now had a tear rolling down his cheek.

“You did not see me. You saw nothing at all.” Frankie began to release the guard and couldn’t help himself from leaning in one last time for one last hypnotic suggestion. “You are forgiven. Tonight you will do all those wild and crazy things with your wife and you will tell her over and over again how much you love her.” He couldn’t resist. It had nothing to do with the plan and was something he really tried not to do, but once Frankie had so much inside information on someone he just couldn’t stop himself from intervening in some way. He had felt the man’s guilt was making him hard and cold and unreachable. The world already had enough men like that. A few minutes passed and the security guard looked around curiously. For a second he was completely lost. What was he just thinking? He was remembering the night of passion but this time there was no guilt, only pleasure and how this passion belonged to his wife. He couldn’t wait to get home tonight for the first time in years. There was something else. A small framed man, but no that wasn’t possible. He was alone and he shrugged his shoulders and walked over to the elevators. By this time Frankie was long gone and heading up into the heart of the beast. He tried hard not to laugh at how easy this assignment was going. He knew the dangers of being too smug. The next step would be a little more difficult but he was not afraid. Celine was nowhere near her office at this time of day. Knowing what he did about her she was most likely locked away in the labs a few kilometers away. The elevator stopped at the fifth floor and he walked boldly up to the assistant’s desk. Sitting there was a pretty young woman with a black bob that was classic vogue with a sharp angle that danced on the top of her lovely shoulders. She was most definitely French and extremely composed with an air of utter indifference. He smiled again. Celine loved to surround herself with pretty things, whether it was furniture, clothing, or people, Celine could not abide anything that was not beautiful. The woman looked up and gave him a very practiced and very fixed professional smile. He did not give her time to speak.

“Where’s Elllen?” He demanded in an uncompromising tone.

“I’m sorry sir, but Ellen is not here. She left early today. Can I leave a message for her?” Her voice was velvet and she smelled like brown sugar and lemon.

“What do you mean she’s not here? She’s always here!” He was all but yelling now. The young woman glanced at her phone which was just within reach. Frankie guessed her thoughts and placed himself between her and a call for help.

“If Ellen isn’t here then I would know about it, now why don’t you tell me what the Hell is really going on? He moved in a few inches but the woman was not afraid and did not budge. Working for Celgen was training enough for keeping the uninvited and the undesirables at bay. She raised her perfectly manicured nails to the lapel of her pink blouse as if the act gave her another measure of confidence.

“I’m sorry sir.” She spoke with absolute condescension. “Who might you be and where is your pass?” She was practically scolding him now. “No one is allowed in here without a pass, I don’t even know how you-” Frankie shouted and cut her off completely.

“Who am I?” His face began to turn red. “Who am I? You had better be joking and if you are it is not very funny at all!” He had worked himself up into a fit. “Who the hell are you and where is Ellen?” He moved in closer to her now. He was staring straight through her and though he was beginning to frighten her a little, she could not help but feel a perverse attraction to this odd little man with his tight muscular body and glaring eyes.

“I am filling in for Ellen today. That is all I know. Truly sir I have now idea who you are and was not expecting any appointments for Ms. D’Aumont until later this afternoon.” Frankie raised his hand to silence her as if she were a student.

“I’m sorry miss. I’ve had a frightful morning already and now this. You see I am Francois Rene LeVoyer. I am Ms. D’Aumont’s decorator and personal friend for years and Ellen assured me that I would have the swatches of new fabric for the office today. If I am to meet Celine’s deadline I have to have that material.” He stared at her up and down in the most unprofessional of manners.

The young woman looked up shyly at the man. She tried to regain her composure but felt that her hard earned control was nowhere to be found. “I’m sorry Mr. LeVoyer. I was told nothing about this. Perhaps you could come back again around three o’ clock?” She smiled at him seductively. What was she doing? There was something about this man that she could not resist. She felt all of her willpower slipping from her like a dress falling soundlessly from her shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I cannot possibly come back. That is impossible. I will just get the swatches myself and be on my way. You know how Celine is when a deadline isn’t met!” He laughed and made a gesture of cutting off his neck. He walked brazenly towards Celine’s office.

“Oh but sir! You cannot go in there. Besides it’s locked.” She jumped a little in front of him a little too closely. She could feel the sexual pull that was emanating from him like a wave of heat. She tried to match his fiery countenance bravely. She realized she was trembling and her forehead broke out into tiny beads of perspiration. Had she gone mad? Here she was ready to throw herself at this guy and compromise what could well be the career of a lifetime. She tried to pull herself together but only succeeded in feeling as if she were trying to get a firm hold on thin air. Frankie bridged whatever distance that remained between them and smiled at her. He looked at her pretty face with such an intensity that she felt herself blush. It seemed he could read her very erotic thoughts as she was thinking them. He moved his hand into his jacket and pulled out a key.

“Not to worry. Ms. D’Aumont gave me this ages ago. If you worked here you would know that I am in and out all of the time. I decorate all of her offices and all of her home.” He could feel her desire and he fed from it like a vulture. “Ellen would never have given me such a hard time.” He would not look away. “Not that I mind being harassed by someone as lovely as you.” He actually winked. She was completely paralyzed, if anyone else had done that she would have slapped them, but this man…this odd man with such magnetism was defying all logic. She thought she might actually faint right there on the spot. He touched her shoulders and whispered in her ear. “Now be a good girl and go back to your desk.” His body pressed into hers and she was like wax melting helplessly against the heat. She swore she could smell something musky and intoxicating. Was it incense? Myrrh? It was overpowering. “Forget about me. Forget everything but this my dear.” With that he leaned in and kissed her lips in a way that no one had every kissed them before. She was falling. She was falling though snow covered plains and falling from the sky. The world faded away. In a daze she wandered back to her chair and began typing mechanically as if she weren’t really there at all, but somewhere far away. Frankie walked up to the large black door and inserted his key while holding his breath. The lock clicked and he was in. At first he jumped, thinking there was someone in the room with him. He looked over to his right and saw all the mirrors. How appropriate. Celine’s vanity was no secret to the world. He moved quickly to her desk and turned on her computer. It required a password. He smiled as he had been up all night thinking about this part and as dawn approached the obvious answer came to him. Passwords and secret codes were his specialty and he knew that Celine would choose something infinitely simple and meaningful and most of all, to the point. He typed three keys:

E A U

The screen went black and then lit up with icons everywhere. He found the one that he was looking for and clicked on it. A word appeared on the screen. This had to be it. He double clicked the files and they began to open. He pulled a jump drive out of his pocket and began downloading.

RUE RAYNOUARD

Long before Passy was part of Paris it was considered the country. Many people who had homes in the city often built a country estate along the rolling hill of the right bank of the Seine or near the Bois de Boulogne, the vast forest which was popular for riding and hunting of the rich and fashionable. Today Passy is still a distinguished neighborhood without question. Fashionable shops decorate the Place Passy and wonderful restaurants abound. But long before it became this swirling cacophony of sound and lights it stood in the open fields on the road to Versailles. One by one the grand mansions began to appear on the hillside with a view of the river in what was once abundant farm land. The rich and the royals began to claim this space a country residence still within a reasonable distance from the city so as not to miss any of the gaiety and frivolity of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Today one can get a glimpse here and there of the fantastic world that no longer exists. The Musee Balzac is one of those grand homes that still stands today and behind it lay the Turkish Embassy which, though rebuilt since the Terror, was once the home of the Princess Lamballe, the best friend of Marie Antoinette who was brutally murdered because she had returned to a Paris gone mad against the advice of everyone to stand in defense of her Cher Amie. Paris, like most cities today boast a history that is bathed in blood. It is a dark testament and reminder that civilizations don’t just rise out of the earth like flowers. It sprung up out of conflict and murder and at the cost of countless lives who were considered expendable as long as the roads were being built and the temples were being covered in gold. It is this dark past that still exists within the meek and humble souls of the descendents of these murderous clans which eventually formed governments and institutions which we take for granted have always been. Within these modern children of the people who came before them, lay the guilt and the bloodshed of centuries past. Paris is certainly awash in the blood of the innocent as well as the guilty, the artist and the intellect, the saints and heretics and all of the people who came before to bring Paris to life.