The Killer in My Eyes

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Authors: Giorgio Faletti
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out and took him from behind, pinning his arms behind his back. His helmet dropped from his hand and rolled on the ground.
    Lord came closer. ‘I used to think about
this
.’
    When Jordan had joined the police, he knew a cop sometimes found himself in difficult situations. The irony was that this was one of the worst situations he’d ever been in and he wasn’t even a cop any more. He leaned back against the two men behind him, lifted his foot and planted it in Lord’s face. He distinctly heard the sharp sound of the cartilage of his nose breaking and saw him disappear from his field of vision. As he tried to free himself from the grip of the two men, the previously impassive Hardy suddenly came to life. Taking up a classic boxer’s position, he landed him a one-two to the solar plexus. Jordan felt the food he had eaten earlier rise to his throat, then saw, as if in slow motion, Hardy’s fist heading straight for his face. It struck him and, even before he felt the pain, there was a blinding flash of yellow light in his eyes. The impact pushed him backwards against the two other men, dislocating his shoulder.
    In the meantime, Lord had got back on his feet and was coming towards him with blood dripping from his broken nose and onto his uneven teeth. ‘You motherfucking bastard, I’m going to—’
    He didn’t get a chance to say what he was going to do. On the other side of the street, a police car had stopped just outside the diner and an officer had climbed out.
    ‘Shit, it’s the cops,’ a voice behind Jordan’s back said. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
    Lord came close to Jordan. ‘We’ll finish there for now. But this isn’t the end of it, you piece of shit.’
    He gave Jordan a backhander that knocked his head sideways. Jordan felt the grip on his arms loosen and he fell to his knees. The four men got quickly back in their car and disappeared in a slamming of doors and screeching of tyres.
    His ears were humming from the blows and there was a dull pain in his shoulder. He saw bloodstains on the stone steps and realized that the blood was his. He stood up and went to get his helmet, holding it with his left hand. Then he staggered inside the lobby and leaned against the wall for support. Taking a deep breath, he gave his shoulder a quick, sharp jerk, stifling a groan of pain as the joint clicked back into place. A few drops of blood fell onto his jacket and shirt. He took out a Kleenex and dabbed his nostrils. Then he went up in the elevator, standing in such a way as not to see himself in the mirror.
    Once back at his door, he went in and switched on the light. Here was his old apartment, waiting for him. He put his helmet on the couch and headed for the bathroom, where he was surprised to see a sliver of light under the door. Maybe he had forgotten to switch off the light that morning. But right now, he had other things to think about.
    He opened the door, and there, in the amber light of the bathroom, was a naked woman. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.
    She had her back to him and was reflected from the waist up in the mirror. She had been drying her hair with a towel and had stopped when he came in. She showed not the slightest reaction, either of surprise or fear, nor had she made the slightest attempt to cover herself.
    ‘Should I consider you a danger?’ she asked, in a soft calm voice.
    Jordan was completely taken aback. He couldn’t speak for a moment, couldn’t do anything but stand there in the doorway, seeing his face reflected next to hers in the mirror as he pressed a pathetic bloodstained tissue to his nose.
    ‘No, I’m sorry, I—’
    ‘Then do you mind closing the door and waiting outside while I get dressed?’
    Jordan did as he was told, feeling like a small boy caught peering through a keyhole. He took refuge in the other bathroom, the one next to the guest room. He switched on the light and looked at his face in the mirror. He was forced to admit that Lord

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