Flamingo Podnyalsya Ch 4

Flamingo Podnyalsya Ch 4

CHAPTER 4

By Phil Miller

Chris had been an IT consultant for a large American communications company and was very good at what he did. His IQ was 135 and there was absolutely nothing he did not know about computers. For most people, a career in this industry would have been just fine, but not for Chris. He wanted more and knew the only way to get what he wanted was to work for himself; find a niche market.

That was when the problems started. There had been a recession and people were losing their jobs left, right and centre. Sara was in a permanent state of existential angst and it was affecting their relationship. They had been trying for a baby but it was proving difficult so they decided to consult a gynaecologist and were both devastated when told that Sara was infertile. After many clinical appointments and discussions on courses of treatment, they opted for IVF, which proved very expensive and which soon burned a hole in their bank balance.                             

Things were looking grim. But then Chris spotted an article in the Telegraph appertaining to the lack of polygraph testers in the UK and the government’s legislative proposal to adopt polygraph testing within the British justice system with it being written in statute within the next three years. He researched the field of Polygraphy extensively and was hooked. He opted for an intensive three-month course in California, and when finished, he would be a fully-fledged member of the highly prestigious American Polygraph Association; a licence to print money.   
                        

Sara didn’t want him to go but, after a lot of heated debate and soul searching, the decision was made, and Chris left for the sunshine coast. He spoke to Sara every day for the first month but the calls started to drop away so much so that halfway through the course they were only talking about twice a week.

It was during his seventh week of training that he met Mika. She had been accompanying her husband while he attended a venture capital, technological, innovation and social media world conference, and exhibition in the San Francisco Bay area of Northern California. The American Polygraph Association had decided the event would be an opportunity to advertise their unique business; good practise for the students. That is when Chris first set eyes on Mika. She looked stunning in her green velvet backless dress which revealed a large tattoo of a multi-coloured dragon. She was nonchalantly walking around when she spotted the sign above stand 516 that read, “COULD YOU DETECT A LIE, BECAUSE WE GUARANTEE TO.”

She walked slowly over to Chris and stood staring at him before lifting a small lipstick from her handbag and applying it.

“Can you really catch people out with this machine, if they lie?”

“That’s the idea,” Said Chris, feeling rather hot under the collar. “Would you like to try it?”

“Yes please, could be fun.” She sat down at the small table. “I suppose you’re going to strap me up to something now.”

“Nothing harmful, just a few leads to some of your fingers and some straps around your body.”

“Go on then.” She laid her hand on the table and Chris took up the cardio-sphygmograph. He had set this up over 100 times during the last six weeks but at this moment he couldn’t function properly. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He gently attached the galvanograph to her fingertips.  He felt a surge of natural electricity surge through him as he felt her beautiful soft skin. His heart began to race. Sara flashed through his mind. He hadn’t felt like this for a long time. Every now and then Mika caught him staring at her and laughed. Next, the cuff. As he slid it on her arm his eyes caught hers and he felt chemistry between them. He stepped away and reached for the tube-like band. “I’m just going to wrap this around your body.”

As he stepped towards her, she lifted her right leg and pointed her foot at him. “Could you take my shoes off for me, my feet are aching.” Chris licked his dry lips and looked around to see if any of his fellow students or tutor were on their way back from their walkabout, then knelt down and removed her shoes and placed them under her chair. He gripped the table leg to help himself up and couldn’t help looking at her perfectly formed body. He felt like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Time just froze for a moment as she sat staring seductively at him.

“I’ve got a proposition for you.” She said, “How would you like to earn an easy 10 grand?”

The next six months were a whirlwind for Chris and Mika was the storm driving it. She had sophistication about her. She was beguiling, beautiful, cunning and alluring.   

After convincing Mitch that she needed to visit her sick friend in New York, she booked a hotel a few blocks from where Chris was staying. The first night they spent together she emptied her bag onto the queen-sized bed and produced a pocket guide Kama Sutra, chopped some lines and pounced on him like a lioness. Chris couldn’t get enough of it; the Charlie and her. She was insatiable. If Sara found out, that really would be the end.

It was Wednesday morning at The Piers Hotel. After he’d cleaned the mirror and did a visual sweep for any loose wraps, Chris made his way to Luigi’s greasy spoon for a fry up. After a bit of banter with the staff, he sat quietly staring at his large cappuccino. He started to get anxious again. “What the fuck should I do? Time to get out. Get out of this mess. Come on, pull yourself together man. Jesus! 9.30!, Sara!  Got to call Sara. Did I even speak to her yesterday?” He took out his 11 pro max and saw a missed call, so sat working out his next move. “Come clean. End it. Just tell the truth. No, get some help.” He never really talked about his feelings; just like his father, an emotional fish. That was half the problem. They needed to talk. His heartfelt heavy as he hit speed dial but, just as he connected, a text came through. It was Mika.

“ Meet at Purdey’s, Friday, at 8pm. Bring your little box of tricks with you, 5k for 2 hours work. Don’t be late xx.” He replied, “ok!” and disconnected the call just as Sara answered, then switched off his phone. He needed time to think. 

Sara knew how busy Chris could get but was excited to tell him the good news. She was pregnant. It had been a bittersweet moment: finding herself with child but knowing that her daughter will grow up motherless for most of her life. She thought for a moment about video calling him but changed her mind. Her heart ached and she felt dizzy. Depression came over her like never before and she fought hard to hold the tidal wave of tears back. “Can’t let Chris see me like this. Tell him to his face. Can read him then, read him better than anyone.”

Purdey’s Farm was a dilapidated old farmhouse on the outskirts of Upminster, Essex.  It belonged to one-eyed Bob. Bob used to control all the bouncers in and around the West End. If anything needed sorting then he was your man. He was a one-eyed giant standing at 6” 8” and 28 stone.  He lost his eye in a fight with a Romanian Gypsy King. Bob lost his eye; the king lost his life. The fight was over a debt; winner takes all kind of bet.

The gates to the farm were always open but rarely did anybody venture in uninvited. The main house was a gutted roofless ruin. The yards, back and front, were full of old rusted cars, caravans, smashed up boats and mounds of old cable ready for stripping. There was a barn at the back of the house with open fields beyond which were flanked by ancient woodland. Piles of logs were stacked under a corrugated lean-to at the side of the barn with an abundance of coal next to it. A pile of old cables lay in the open. The burning always took place on the weekend and the acrid smoke lingered on for days.

Chris pulled up on time. It was dark and damp and a light fog stretched out beyond the fields. The gravel under the wheels reminded him of home and how proud he had felt when he and Sara had moved into their first home. He stepped out of his old 4x4 range rover with his kit case and walked up to the solid black iron door. He rang the bell and after a few minutes, a metal plate dropped to reveal a familiar face, followed by the sound of bolts being drawn. The door creaked open.

“Hello darling, come in.” She stood with a wicked smile on her face. She wore a black all in one overall, the type builders use when they are expecting to get dirty and what looked like surgical gloves.  Chris entered, head down.

Mika bolted the door behind them. It had just started to rain. She led him through to another door which led down to the basement where sat a tall imposing man with a heavily bruised face. He was gagged and his hands were cuffed to a bolt eye firmly fixed to a very old heavy workbench. Standing in the corner was another man. He stood by another smaller table on which lay a curled up leather pouch. A large vodka bottle and four glasses stood next to it.

“Mr Flicka, I would like to introduce a good friend of mine, Mr Kaspersky. Kas for short.” She walked over to the battered captive. “This is your subject. May I introduce mister Moreau.”

Copyright Phil Miller