PROLOGUE

The large double glaze windows where open wide. A cold breeze danced the thinn white patern covered curtains that hung by on the left and the right. It was cold outside. The moon was up and it cast a light across the cealing and the walls. She was unbothered by the cool air. The woman lay awake in a bed of double size thinking of nothing that could be described in words. The covers where pulled back and a dampened sweat coaxed her neck in an excess that contradicted the temperature. She was inmobile, except for her fingers that clutched and pulled at the sheets bellow her and around her. Her body twisted in an elegant display of curved limps and torso. Her eyes didn't really say much, but they where beautifully gray and cold and full of an energy that might have been fear or might have been something that transcended fear. They stared up, at the cealing, and they moved towards an unidentifiable insect that flew around looking for an exit, bumping up and down against the fresh looking paint that colored it. Her lips moved but now sound came out, it might have been a name that she was saying over and over and over and over.
The night was silent, absolutely covered in a blanket of oblivion, except for the breeze that moved and shuddered trees in the distance. The room was bare. They was no clock in sight but it must have been deep into the night. The woman lived alone. Tonight her mind was not alone all. Her mind was still caught up in the half fading dream she'd had, of a savage encounter. She looked over at the open window and closed her eyes. She felt the cold breeze on her face and sighted a whisper that only one heard.

CHAPTER ONE


Michael walked five steps forward and four steps backwards. He stwisted his feet to the left side in accordance to his body. He lifted a foot into the air and then rested it on the tips. For half a dozen seconds, before placing the heel on the ground, twisting around again to the left and walking backwards. Five slow and deliberate steps. The rubber of the sole made a squeak and a groan on the plastic floorboards that made the shoes sound new.
"How do they feel" the woman said.
He didn't answer her enmediately, instead he look away from the mirror and down at one of the shoes and twisted it around very slightly. The silence carried on long enough so that the woman attempted to fill it in with another question, and then he spoke.
"I think i'll take them"
She smiled in a way that stretched her lips, covered in a glaze of plastic red. Her eyes told him she had other ideas on her mind but very few people would tell that at first, or even second, glance. He didn't really take on board her age because he didn't really care. When he looked away her face was already starting to fade from his mind.
" They look good on you" She said. And once again she was solid and real, or just barely solid and real. He didn't answer either but gifted her with a polite smile and stared into her eyes long enough for hers to flicker away.
"How much will it be?.
She gave him the price. He offered less. She doubted. He convinced her her doubt was wrong. He left with the shoes 10% less than he'd expected to pay for them.

He walked over to his car, parket on this side of the street, and unlocked it from a distance. It was early monday morning and it was mildly cold. It felt like a day after rain except the month had offered nothing but clear skies. The town was busy. Nobody was up who didn't have a deliberate place to go.
He opened the drivers door and threw the plastic bag with the shoes onto the passengers seat. He checked the clock on the dashboard after climbing in. 8:34. Time to get going. His hand was steady as he placed it on the keys and started the ignition. And his hands where steady as he lifted the clutch with one and placed the other on the stearing wheel. He didn't really care for cars, but he liked setting a desired impression of the person he might be to people that he might encounter. A car was the first thing that most people looked at because they stupidly thought it gave them some insight into another human life. If you really want to do that, you should always look at someones shoes. But most people when they look at another person what they're really looking at is at themselves. Real tell tale signs usually go unnoticed. But michael knew all about tell tale signs. And he was careful to keep them hidden and camuflaged from people who where close enough to being just like him.

It took him fifteen minutes to drive there. The meeting place was a coffe shop next to the port. He was early so it didn't take him long to find a place to park. He leaned over to the back seats and grabbed his coat before stepping outside. The wind had picked up. The seaguls called for whatever they where always calling for. He walked towards the caffe while zipping up his coat to the very top and then burying his hands in the large pockets, making them into a couple of fists. There where only five people sitting on the outside tables. He was alone as requested, with his back to him. As he came up to the table he, the boy, twisted his head and looked at him. Recognition was in his eyes even though they'd never met.
" Are you James?" the boy asked.
"Yes" Michael said, he spread a small smile on his face and sat down next to him.
" Don't you want to know my name?"
Michael looked at him intensely and the boy didn't look away.
" We're here for a matter of names but our names are not important. You know that."
It wasn't a question.
" I imagined you would be younger"
Michael didn't answer. Instead he took out an envelope from the inside of his coat and placed it on the table. The tips of his fingers held it down against the wind.
"You know what's inside of this?" He asked.
The boy leaned back.
"A name" he stated
"That all you need to know from me". Michael pulled his chair back and stood.
" Aren't you going to order something?" The boy asked.
"From here? No"
With that he walked away and was gone, leaving the boy behind with the envelope in his hand.

 The envelope contained a small rectangular slip of paper. The paper had two words printed on it and they formed a name and a surname. He looked at it for a brief moment and memorized it. He then took the paper, placed it back into the envelope and folded the envelope six times on itself.
He called the waiter over for the bill and thought about what he had to do next. The name didn't really tell him anything, it alone lead nowhere. She was a woman, as usual, and she lived in the town. That was all he knew for certain, everything else he would have to be put together one step at a time.