Read The Kiss after Midnight (The Midnight Trilogy) Online
Authors: Marvin Amazon
The Kiss after Midnight
Marvin Amazon
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Corinthians Publishing
Essex, United Kingdom
Copyright © Marvin Amazon
For more information about this book, visit
www.midnighttrilogy.com
Edition ISBNs:
Paperback 978-0-9572985-5-2
Hardback 978-0-9572985-4-5
e-Book 978-0-9572985-6-9 (ePub)
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I dedicated this to all who have inspired me along the way, and all those who are no longer with us.
18. In the Middle of the Night
Düsseldorf, Germany
Albert Eichelberger stirred his coffee as he flicked through the TV channels with the remote. At age 81, he had only recently discovered a love for current affairs, but on the morning of April 14, 2010, he couldn’t bear to hear yet another report on the crisis facing the Euro zone. He glanced at the newspaper beside him and looked at the first three pages before throwing it to the floor, unwilling to entertain any news concerning Europe’s currency.
He finally set the spoon down, sipped some of his coffee and slammed the jug on the silver side table. “Barbara! ... Barbara!”
The sound of running feet preceded the opening of the ten-foot door of his study room. “Yes, sir,” a plump woman answered. “Is everything all right?”
Albert frowned at her and pushed his long thinning gray hair to the side. “You’ve worked for me for fifteen years, correct?”
The woman stood still, looking at him.
“Have you not?” Albert growled.
“Yes,” Barbara said. “Yes, I have, sir.”
“Then surely, if you’ve worked for me for such a long time, you know how I take my coffee, right?”
“Yes ... yes sir, but—”
“Then why am I drinking coffee without any sugar? I’ve got enough problems in my life, and the last thing I need is a maid who suddenly forgets who it is she works for.”
“I’m ... I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”
“Oh, I know it won’t.” Albert lowered his voice and smiled. “Now, can you please make me a fresh cup of coffee?”
Barbara quickly opened the door.
“With sugar this time,” Albert said. “Think you can handle that?”
“Yes, sir.” The maid rushed out of the room.
Albert picked another paper up and turned to the back page, where he found an article about the German football team. The door creaked open at that moment. He looked up to see a tall slender woman with flowing blond hair, dressed in a black suit.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, sir.”
“What is it, Beatrix?”
The woman coughed as she entered the room, holding the door open. “Diederich is back from the states. He wishes to see you at once.”
Albert held his chin in his hand. “How long has he been back?”
“I believe he landed this morning.”
“Very well. Send him in. And tell Barbara not to worry about my coffee. I shall have to take a rain check on that.”
Beatrix started to leave.
“And see that no one disturbs us.”
She nodded and shut the door behind her.
Albert returned to his paper, squinting through his thick-framed glasses. Halfway through the story, he frowned and let out a growl. The paper suggested that the German football team was days away from announcing the sacking of its national coach after a string of poor results. Albert had been an avid German football fan for as long as he could remember, and the current manager was one of his favorites. He placed the paper back on to the side table upon hearing the door open once more.
A tall burly man in a dark suit walked into the room and shut the door firmly behind him. His long, straight blond hair and pale blue eyes gave him a menacing look. A former German special-ops agent, Erwin Diederich had been forced to leave his regiment due to an injury to his right eye that had left him partially blind. Now he carried out complex jobs, mainly investigating matters too sensitive to be reported to the police. He also performed delicate personal matters for Albert, who, after five years, trusted him implicitly.
Erwin sat on a sofa, five feet from Albert, and folded his arms.
Albert leaned forward. “Anything?”
Erwin reached into his jacket, pulled out folded sheets of papers and flipped through them for a few seconds before facing his employer. “I did find him, sir.”
Albert edged further forward, almost off his seat. “You did? Where? Has he changed his mind?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Albert grimaced and sank back in his seat.
“I gave him enough time to reconsider. His mind is made up. He really wants nothing to do with you or the company.”
Albert tapped his feet on the floor and looked between Erwin and the door, a frown on his face. “How’s he doing? Is he well?”
Erwin held up the sheets of paper. “Everything about his life is here. The name he goes under, his place of work, the women he sees, everything.”
Albert rose and slowly limped toward Erwin. Then he knelt—his old bones aching as he did—and took hold of the report before placing it on the floor. He gazed at Erwin’s face, and tears fell from his eyes. “Leave me.”
“Sir?”
“I want to be left alone.”
Erwin nodded and left the room.
“We’re here now,” the thick-set Hispanic cab driver said, “230 Fifth Avenue.” He brought the car to a halt a few inches in front of a long line of people.
Tobias Mead casually got out of the taxi and straightened his gray suit. He gazed at his reflection in the window and tidied his short-cropped blond hair.
“That line looks like death,” the cab driver said as Tobias gave him the fare. “My cousin knows one of the doormen here. Do you want me to give him a call?”
“No, that’s cool,” Tobias replied, grinning. “I’ve got it from here.”
He walked toward the line and glanced at the crush of women desperate to get into the club. Although some of them remained in the main line, some stood to the side, possibly refused entry due to a lack of ID and other undisclosed reasons.
As Tobias continued to make his way to the front, he noticed the somewhat angry looks directed at him from some of the men, whom he suspected had been waiting for hours with no indication as to whether they would get in.
“Tobias, my man,” shouted one of the immaculately dressed young men standing at the front door. Wearing a fitted gray blazer over a pearl-white shirt, he calmly invited some of the revelers in and rejected others, all the while maintaining his broad smile, revealing teeth as pearly as his shirt. “I didn’t think you were gonna turn up today.”
Tobias shook his hand and extended the gesture into an embrace. “Come on, Teddy. You know I’m always here when the weather’s this good.”
“Well, I hooked you up on the same table, just in case.”
“You know me too well.” Tobias winked. “So what honeys have we got tonight?”
“Well, Amber and Tiffany are already here with some of their chicks. Not sure about the L.A. ones, though.”
“It doesn’t matter, dude. I’m sure I can make do with the local talent.” Tobias’ grin returned. “You need to let some more of these girls in, though. You’re kicking out some seriously hot ass.”
Teddy smiled and patted his friend on the shoulder. Tobias then made his way to the rooftop, past a host of waitresses and promo girls, who gave him alluring glances and kisses on the cheek. He responded to the women’s affection by gently caressing their shoulders and waists.
Tobias was greeted by extremely loud music upon reaching the club’s main dance floor. He walked past a large bar on his right as he made his way toward the outer section. He glanced at the oval tables positioned about four feet away from each other, each sitting about six people—mainly girls—with one or two men flashing their credit cards.
Moving through the dance floor, he wondered why the club even bothered having it. Adding more tables would have been a better idea, such was the demand for them. He sighed as he stepped out to the roofless section, the full view of the moonlight greeting him.
He caught a glimpse of the table reserved for him. He counted at least six women sitting around it, pouting and hardly speaking to each other. He straightened the collar of his black shirt, ran his hands across his suit and walked forward.
He looked closer at the cabana and noticed two of his regular party girls, Amber Harris and Tiffany Johansson, at the center of the table. After briefly introducing himself to the new additions to his party crowd, he sat and read the drinks menu.
The club steadily approached full capacity, and women gradually filled the dance floor as a host of men looked on, some with folded arms.
Tobias, oblivious of the numerous glances coming his way, spoke into the ear of Chris Hawkins—one of the club’s main promoters—as a steady stream of alcohol arrived at the table. With a round unshaven face, Chris was charming and friendly to all who knew him.