The Cleaner by Brett Battles

Author:Brett Battles
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Mystery, Suspense, Thriller, Azizex666, Adventure
ISBN: 9780440243700
Publisher: Delacorte Press
Published: 2007-06-26T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Quinn awoke four hours later. It was morning and the bedroom was lit by the weak winter sun. Beside him, Sophie lay on her side, covered by the down comforter. If her habits were the same as before, she wouldn't stir for hours.

He found his clothes in the living room where they'd been dropped the night before. As he pulled them on, he took a look around the room. Little had changed in Sophie's apartment during the time he'd been away. The pictures, the cracks in the walls, the overstuffed armchair, everything seemed the same as it had been that first night she'd brought him here, long ago.

He'd met Sophie between projects. His short vacation, as he had called it at first, had turned into a two-month affair. Even then, he didn't know why he stayed. He had liked Sophie, and enjoyed her company. But there wasn't much more. The only reason he could come up with was he'd been alone for a long time prior to her. Not one of the most stellar reasons for starting a relationship, but an all too common one for Quinn.

It was at the Saturday morning outdoor antiques market near the Tiergarten S-bahn station when he first saw her. Sophie had come there with friends, and Quinn, alone, had followed them for a while, until Sophie stopped by herself at a stall selling old books.

They'd fallen into conversation easily. He used his standard cover, claiming to be a bank consultant helping one of his international clients with a business deal in Berlin. She didn't probe further – few people ever did. Banking was one of those professions that, unless one was in it, was an accepted enigma. Still, if he ever did stumble across somebody who did know the business, he was educated enough to talk a good game.

Within the first week, he'd moved out of his hotel and into her apartment. They had spent hours and hours making love. Many times, after their passion had been sated, she'd lead him through the dining area next to her kitchen, then out the window onto a short expanse of roof at the back of the building. She had turned the area into a makeshift patio. There was a wooden table, a few mismatched chairs, and several ceramic pots filled with tomato plants. 'My farm,' she called it. For hours they'd sit in the chairs and drink wine or beer and stare at the stars, talking about nothing at all.

But after a while Durrie's rule of romantic entanglements kicked in, and Quinn was gone, leaving one morning while she was sleeping, a short note his only goodbye.

Now, as Quinn slipped on his shoes, he couldn't help thinking he was doing it again. He paused for a moment, listening to see if she might have woken up. But the only noise from the bedroom was the breathing of a woman fully asleep.

Quinn picked up his backpack and opened the door.

Ku'damm was already crowded by the time he returned.

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