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TWO
a hint of  escalation
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To have five dead bodies within three weeks was bad already but to have a  sixth turning up not even twenty-four hours later was even worse. It was a sign of escalation. Nassim crouched down next to the body, an elderly woman. Her housekeeper had found her in the bathtub, drowned. Mrs Joanna  Bancroft had lived alone after her husband had died, leaving her a fortune over five million dollars. Expensive paintings hung at the wells, some more ugly than others. Nassim smiled briefly. He knew someone who would chasitate him for calling them ugly.

"Special Agent Zidan", a voice called in that moment. The man threw one last glance at the woman who had found death in the bath of roses before he left the bathroom. Detective Wilson held papers in his hand, skimming through them.
    "Apparently, Mrs Bancroft made a purchase a week ago that was delivered yesterday."
"What did she acquire?", Nassim asked, staring at the man. Alexander Wilson stared at the papers again, an almost silent whistle escaped his lips. "For an absolutely horrendous sum of 260,000 US dollars. For this ugly painting." He pointed to the picture hanging above the fireplace. It was an apple, nothing that explained the value of over 26,000 dollars. Nassim could understand Wilson's reaction.

"Does it say who the contractual partner was?" Alexander glanced at the paper again, frowned, glanced at the agent, then back at the paper.
"A strange coincidence", the tall man mumbled to himself, then:  "Her surname is also Zidan. Melis Zidan, art advisor at Sotheby's."

Nassim's attention was directed to the smaller woman with dark hair. On her left ring finger, a small golden band rested, the black dress expensive, the shoes were a pair of 500 dollar. Her jewelry was of finest craftsmanship, the earrings alone worth 1200 dollars. She stood in front of a painting, head tilted a bit while typing on a tablet. His steps were muffled, the thick Persian carpet absorbing every sound. He knew that this carpet alone had cost 1500 dollars. And yet it was not the most valuable thing in the noble art auction house. There were paintings and statues hanging, some of which cost well over a million. For him the most valuable, priceless thing was the young woman in the green suit who managed some of these paintings and art objects.

"Is that painting a Cézanne?" he asked, seeing the smile broadening. Pulling her close, he kissed her as a greeting, smiling down at her.
"You listened to my monologue in the car when you picked me up from the train station yesterday?", she spoke, a hint of disbelief hidden in her words. Nassim smiled.

"I always listen to you. Besides, it was cute seeing you so elated over a painter." Melis Zidan blushed, She was smaller than him, the umber hair curled lightly. She was renowned in the world of arts, known as someone who knew more about history of paintings then others. Just last Friday she had closed a fifty million dollar deal from which she kept thirty percent. They had celebrated the successful sell with a dinner at the small Italian restaurant they had their first date at.
"You are not here to talk with me about the paintings and sculptures, are you?", she asked, walking towards a sculpture.
"Sadly not today, Melis. We have a victim who bought paintings here, more precisely by you."

"Do you still have to work or can I hitch a ride with you, my love?", she asked once he had asked his last question. The man stared at his phone, reading the terse text of his supervisor.
"Ethan said that we can finish up for today so I guess my lady gets her personal chauffeur on our merry way back to Newark." She  laughed, before walking past him. Nassim followed her to her office. His eyes fell onto their wedding picture that stood next to her laptop. Catalogues of paintings and sculptures were neatly put together with a list of prices and estimated shipping time. On her laptop, the website of an airline was opened. He noticed the black suit jacket thrown over her chair, next to it her Polène bag. The suit jacket was familiar looking when she slipped it on. Nassim stepped behind her, helping her. 

"The sleeves look a bit too long, my love."
"Couldn't resist. Besides, it goes so well with my dress."
"That it does", he responded, his smile broadening, "may I escort the lady Zidan to the car?" Giggling, his wife grasped his outstretched hand and followed him down the car.

There he was. The one, who would lead me to her. Not the woman next to him, the one, he opened the car door for. No, the man would lead me to what was rightfully mine. To the one, that God had promised me. She would be my pillar, she could not hide. For God had shown her to me. Once, twenty two years ago. And now again. It was a sign that she was meant to be mine. My pillar of light. My executioner. My queen. You will be mine. Soon.

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author's note

Welcome back to chapter two
after quite some time. Enjoy the
beginning madness.