It was pouring rain, but Vesper didn't mind. In fact, she kind of relished it. She liked the thrill of clinging to the crevices of a slick brick wall, working her way up one windowsill at a time, never thinking about the growing way down. Only the shrinking distance up. She was seventeen stories above the trash-and-puddle filled alley now. Eight more to go.
She hauled herself up onto another sill, balanced on the two-foot ledge above a fatal drop, and languidly unwound, stretching upward to reach the next. Her thin black shoes found purchase in the wall. A few minutes later, she was rolling out onto the roof. Made it.
She allowed herself to bask in victory for one moment. Then it was back to business. She grabbed the slack cord around her waist and used it to drag up the waterproof duffel she'd left in the alley below. Then she stepped out to the very edge of the building. Across the street loomed the Carter Hotel, where the annual Carter Family Ball was currently in full swing. She hadn't been invited, but she'd decided to crash the party anyway.
She secured one end of the cord to a pole on the ceiling and flung the other end across the street with a grapple on the end. It smashed through a darkened window and the grapple held. She tested the rope. Firm. Perfect.
She hefted the duffel, aimed it carefully, and lobbed it out into the air. It flew through the window, much to her relief. She wouldn't have relished the long trip back to street level to retrieve it.
Now for the tricky part. She flexed her toes a few times and stepped out onto the cord.
Every time she did this it brought her back to the circus, that first day on the tightrope, standing too far above the ground, terrified in spite of the safety net. She'd fallen a few times, learning, but sooner or later you had to learn not to fall. When you were performing there was no net. Falling was not an option. Not even once. No mistakes.
This was a performance.
Moments later she dropped through the window into a darkened apartment. This would be room 25A, which she'd already ascertained was uninhabited at the moment. She scooped up the duffel, made her way into the bathroom, switched on the light and closed the door. No need to risk someone noticing.
She quickly stripped off her soaked jeans and T-shirt. She grabbed a towel, dried herself off. Pulled off the black skullcap and let her curly blonde hair fall out. She opened the duffel and pulled out a small red dress, garters, and a pair of heels, which she slipped into. She took two more minutes to fix her hair and apply some makeup.
Complete transformation.
The last item in the bag was a butterfly knife. She slipped it into her garter.
She stuffed her wet clothes into the duffel, dumped it in the bathtub and closed the curtain. Time to join the party.
Vesper rolled in suavely through the main entrance, not giving the guards a second glance. They didn't give her one either. She was clearly a guest, clearly harmless. It was a beautiful disguise.
She stopped near the entrance and scanned the room. The crowd was slightly overwhelming. Searching for a single person in this human miasma could be a monolithic task.
Well, maybe they'd bump into each other.
Vesper strolled into the crowd, casually nodding hellos, careful not to be dragged into any conversations. With luck, she wouldn't meet anyone she knew.
"Vesper! Hey, Vesper! Is that you?"
Shit. Madeleine.
"Hey, Madeleine," said Vesper, closing her eyes and praying that the bitch would die of a spontaneous heart attack.
"Vesper, I didn't know you were here!" said Madeleine. "I thought Mr Carter disowned you!"
"Invited anyway," said Vesper. "Salt in the wound, I guess. Is Adam around?"
"Adam's just dying to see you!" Madeleine put a hand over her mouth. "My God, Vesper, you never called, you never said anything! He's been so worried. I mean, it's not like he disowned you! He's your brother!"
"I know, I know," said Vesper. "I've been busy. Do you know where he is?"
"Near the band," said Madeleine, pointing. "Talking to Mr Carter. Oh. Maybe you don't want to talk to Mr Carter."
"I'm sure it'll be fine."
"I mean, he invited you, right? That has to mean something. Like maybe this is his way of extending the olive branch. It might be the only way he knows to reach you."
"Parties," said Vesper. "My favourite thing. Thanks, Madeleine. See you later."
She was already walking. Now that she had him in her sights, the universe had slid into slow motion. She surveyed the room. He was standing facing the band, his back turned to her. Hadn't seen her yet. Area around him clear of people. Perfect. Her eyes swivelled to the left. Large window. Heavy potted plant sitting nearby. What side of the building was that? East side, twentieth floor. Narrow alley, building across the street had a fire escape. Security? Two goons hovering nearby. Not close enough to make a difference. Perfect, perfect, perfect.
She scooped a wine glass off a tray with her left hand, never breaking step. Took a sip without tasting it. She was so close to the moment she'd envisioned for ten years. Who fantasized about murder as a twelve-year-old girl? It was fucked up. But her whole life had been fucked up. This made it all worth it. Even if it was the last thing she ever did right.
And it wouldn't be.
