Toronto Noir by Janine Armin

Author:Janine Armin [Armin, Janine]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery, ebook, book, Anthologies
Publisher: akashic books
Published: 2008-05-01T04:00:00+00:00

Pearson was a gargantuan airport, far larger than Vancouver’s, and Christine strode through it with her head down. The crowds terrified her. So many people, yet so little talking— airports were one of those places, like subway cars, where the density of solitary travelers created great moving, silent hordes. The thicker the swarm, the more isolating the experience. The baggage concourse seemed to have been built with this in mind—pillars like redwoods were spaced throughout a room the size of several gymnasiums. Christine imagined that the entire population of Toronto could likely fit inside the space. But it would somehow still feel empty. Its walls and roof were all glass and white steel, so that it felt like she had moved not only east, but also forward, through time itself, and arrived at some point in the future, inside the hangar for some monolithic spacecraft that had not yet been invented.

Christine’s bag was one of the first, and she snatched it off the ramp so suddenly that it slipped to the ground with a crack. No one paused their own searches to notice.

The hotel was connected to Terminal 3. The lobby was nearly empty when she arrived. One geriatric traveler sat sleeping at a coffee table before a bowl of green apples, that morning’s paper scattered across his lap. Two young men, barely more than teenagers, stood at the front desk. Christine was only steps away before they noticed her, and thus she had to endure one describing to the other how he had been “whipping his dick like it owed him money.” Red-faced, he turned to her. Ripe, moist acne covered his cheeks, and his blond hair hung in a limp swoop across his forehead.

“Good morning,” he said. “Welcome to the Gateway Hotel.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m checking in, but I have a strange request.” His mouth hung open in reply. “My husband is staying here tonight, and I’d like to surprise him. Would it maybe be possible for me to get into his room without you letting him know I’ve checked in? It’s our wedding anniversary.”

The boy nodded dumbly for a moment, still embarrassed. “Let me see,” he said. “Can I have your name, ma’am?”

“Of course. Alvio. My husband won’t be arriving until this evening.” He busied himself for a moment with a computer monitor that stood below the counter, making rapid jabs at its touch screen. Christine held her breath.

“And your husband’s first name?”

“Pierre.”

The boy’s face scrunched up for a moment, and Christine noticed that the acne extended down to his neck, its pustules thickening within the nourishment of a razor burn. He nodded.

“Looks like it won’t be a problem,” he said, and grabbed a print out from somewhere by his knees. “I’ll give you one key, if you can sign this for me?”

“Thank you so much,” she said. “I really do appreciate it. And, it won’t … He won’t know that I’m here?”

“That’s right. We will, but he’ll have no clue.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she said. “Thank you so much.

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