The Babylonian Mask

Chapter 4 — Charm

“How is Nina?” Purdue asked Sam as they vacated the bed-less room with Purdue’s coat and a small valise as baggage.

“Detlef Holtzer had her admitted to a hospital in Heidelberg. I am planning to drop in on her in a week or so,” Sam whispered as he checked the hallway. “Good thing Detlef is the forgiving type, or else your ass would be haunting Pripyat by now.”

Looking first left and right, Sam motioned for his friend to follow him to the right where he was heading for the stairs. They heard voices in discussion coming up to the landing. Hesitating for a moment, Sam stopped and pretended to be embroiled in a conversation on his phone.

“They are not agents of Satan, Sam. Come on,” Purdue sniggered, pulling Sam by his sleeve past the two cleaners that were chatting about trivialities. “They don’t even know I’m a patient. For all they know, you’re my patient.”

“Mr. Purdue!” a woman called from behind, strategically interrupting Purdue’s statement.

“Keep walking,” Purdue muttered.

“Why?” Sam teased loudly. “They think I’m your patient, remember?”

“Sam! For God’s sake, keep walking,” Purdue insisted, only vaguely amused by Sam’s juvenile interjection.

“Mr. Purdue, please stop right there. I need to have a word with you,” the woman reiterated. He stopped with a sigh of defeat and turned to face the attractive lady. Sam cleared his throat. “Please tell me that is your doctor, Purdue. Because…well, she can brainwash me any day.”

“It appears she already has,” Purdue mumbled with a sharp look to his associate.

“I have not had the pleasure,” she smiled as she met eyes with Sam.

“Would you like to?” Sam asked, receiving a mighty elbow from Purdue.

“Excuse me?” she asked as she joined them.

“He’s a bit shy,” Purdue lied. “He must learn to speak up, I’m afraid. He must seem so rude, Melissa. I’m sorry.”

“Melissa Argyle.” She smiled as she introduced herself to Sam.

“Sam Cleave,” he said plainly, keeping track of Purdue’s surreptitious signals in his peripheral. “Are you Mr. Purdue’s…”Mindfucker?

“…attending psychologist?” Sam asked, keeping his thoughts locked safely away.

Coyly she scoffed amusedly. “No! Oh, no. I wish I had such authority. I am just the head of administration here at Sinclair, ever since Ella went on maternity leave.”

“So you will be leaving in three months?” Sam feigned regret.

“I’m afraid so,” she replied. “But it will be okay. I have a freelance position at Edinburgh University as an assistant, or advisor, to the Dean of Psychology.”

“Do you hear that, Purdue?” Sam marveled a bit too much. “She is stationed at Fort Edinburgh! It’s a small world. I haunt the place too, but mostly for information when I research my assignments.”

“Ah yes,” Purdue smiled. “I know where she is — stationed.”

“Who do you think got me this position?” she swooned and looked at Purdue with immense adoration. Sam could not let the opportunity for mischief slip by.

“Oh, he did? You old scoundrel, Dave! Helping talented, budding academics into positions even when you do not get publicity for it and all. Isn’t he just the best, Melissa?” Sam praised his friend, not fooling Purdue at all, but Melissa was convinced of his sincerity.

“I owe Mr. Purdue so much,” she chirped. “I just hope he knows how much I appreciate it. As a matter of fact, he gave me this pen.” The back of her pen rolled left to right across her dark rose lipstick as she subconsciously flirted, her yellow locks barely covering her hard nipples that strained through her beige cardigan.

“I’m sure that pen appreciates your efforts too,” Sam said plainly.

Purdue looked ashen, screaming in his mind for Sam to shut up. The blond woman stopped sucking her pen immediately, realizing what she was doing. “How do you mean, Mr. Cleave?” she asked sternly. Sam was unfazed.

“I mean that pen would appreciate your efforts in signing Mr. Purdue out in a few minutes,” Sam smiled confidently. Purdue could not believe it. Sam was busy using his freak talent on Melissa to get her to do what he wished, he realized at once. Trying not to smile at the journalist’s audacity, he kept his expression agreeable.

“Absolutely,” she beamed. “Just let me pull up the discharge documents and I’ll meet you both in the lobby in ten minutes.”

“Thank you so much, Melissa,” Sam called after her as she descended the stairs.

Slowly his head turned to face Purdue’s strange expression.

“You are incorrigible, Sam Cleave,” he reprimanded.

Sam shrugged.

“Remind me to buy you a Ferrari for Christmas,” he grinned. “But first we’re going to drink until Hogmanay and beyond!”

“Rocktober Fest was last week, didn’t you know?” Sam said matter-of-factly as the two strolled down to the ground floor reception area.

“Aye.”

Behind the reception desk, the flustered girl Sam had bewildered stared at him again. Purdue did not have to ask. He could only guess what mind games Sam must have played on the poor girl. “You know that when you use your powers for evil the gods will take them from you, right?” he asked Sam.

“But I’m not using them for evil. I’m breaking my old pal out of here,” Sam defended.

“Not me, Sam. The women,” Purdue corrected what Sam already knew was his meaning. “Look at their faces. You did something.”

“Nothing they’ll regret, sadly. Maybe I should just allow myself a little bit of female attention by means of the gods, hey?” Sam tried to elicit sympathy from Purdue, but he received nothing but a nervous leer.

“Let’s just get out of here scot-free first, old boy,” he reminded Sam.

“Ha, good choice of words there, sir. Oh look, there is Melissa now,” he flashed Purdue a naughty smile. “How did she earn that Caran d’Ache? With those rosy lips?”

“She belongs to one of my beneficiary programs, Sam, like several other young women…and men, I’ll have you know,” Purdue defended hopelessly, knowing full well that Sam was pulling his leg.

“Hey, your preferences have nothing to do with me,” Sam mocked.

After Melissa signed Purdue’s discharge papers, he wasted no time to get to Sam’s car on the other side of the enormous botanical garden that surrounded the building. Like two boys playing truant, they walk-jogged away from the facility.

“You have balls, Sam Cleave. I’ll give you that,” Purdue chuckled as they passed security with the signed release papers.

“I do. Let’s prove it though,” Sam jested as they got into the car. Purdue’s quizzical expression compelled him to give away the secret celebratory venue he had in mind. “Just west of North Berwick we go…to the beer tent village…and we’ll be wearing kilts!”