Heavens Alley - Chapter 13: Twist and Shout

May 07, 2016 Unknown 1 Comments


Eric was brought back to reality by his whistling teapot. He walked back slowly, carrying a silver tray with two cups of tea. He was always anxious around the Professor. "What brings you here, Professor", he inquired, handing over a cup.

"We have much to discuss", the woman replied, pushing a lock of blonde hair away from her face.



Amora followed Jones into apartment 13C. The visit to St. Michaels didn't turn out lucrative, except that they got Holly Fischer's address. The landlord had renovated the entire space so this visit proved useless as well. They were about to return, disheartened, when the landlord said "I have stored everything that was left behind, in case someone came for it. It's in the garage."

They rummaged through boxes of clothes, crockery and other personal items Holly owned but found nothing substantial. They were looking for anything that would reveal the identity of her lover. A photo, a gift, anything. Just when Amora was losing hope, Jones walked to her with a red sweater in his hand. There was nothing peculiar about it except that it was a man's sweater. This could easily have belonged to anyone who had visited her so they didn't get their hopes up but sealed it in an evidence bag anyway. They continued to look for clues but found none. At 6 PM when the dark clouds began looming over the Alley they resolved to call it a day and return again the next.

With the sweater sent to the lab, in hopes of finding any DNA traces, there was not much to do and the two detectives parted ways. Amora decided to have a much needed drink. She took a cab through east end and stopped at the brightly lit curb that led to Lenny's. She loved the vibe the old pub exuded. It was always bustling with laughter and conversation, and the jazz was soothing. She perched atop a bar stool and ordered the usual: Gordon's gin and Tonic.

"What troubles the lady", Lenny asked, pouring her a rather generous amount. Amora was one of his favorites. He enjoyed the fact that she always had something smart to say. He also had a secret crush on her.

"Whatever it is will soon go away now that you're here Lenny", she responded with a smile. She had sisterly affection for the stout bartender.

"A Macallan neat, bartender", said a man to Amora's right. It was a familiar voice. She turned to see a handsome man dapper in a gray suit. She recognized the face immediately. She looked away, not wanting to be recognized herself.

"Miss Rey, fancy bumping into you here" He said. "Oh hello Eric, din't see you there" she responded, the sarcasm obvious. He frowned at the curt response.

"We got off on the wrong foot, Amora. My reaction, admittedly wrong, was because I was very disturbed by the accusation you made. You must understand I was shaken by the news too." Eric said, sitting on a stool next to hers. She let out a mental sigh. She was in no mood to be chatty.

"I completely understand Eric, it's all good", she said hoping it was the end of the conversation.

"You know it's very brave of you to go after Lucifer", Eric continued. He wasn't oblivious to how she felt, but he still pushed. "I have a masters degree in psychology and behavioral studies. Maybe I could offer some insight."

This caught her attention. After all, she was obsessed with Lucifer. "What could you possibly tell me that could be helpful?" she inquired.

Eric smiled. "A good deal. But only if you agree to share some buffalo wings with me." She was annoyed but she had no choice but to bite the bait, so she agreed, not before having rolled her eyes though.

"Bartender a plate of your delightful Buffalo wings, a Gordon's for the lady and a Macallan neat for me", Eric commanded.

Amora wondered how he knew what she was drinking but refrained from asking.

While they waited for the food, Eric told her about his time in college. Although she didn't like his guts and was only still invested in the interaction for Lucifer news, she couldn't help but admire the eloquence and passion with which Eric spoke. He made a story about a cold shower on a hot day seem vividly interesting. She didn't notice Lenny's jealous stare as he refilled her glass.

"OK so let me explain what could possibly be Lucifer's mindset." Eric said taking a swig of Macallan. "Psychopaths aren't born, they are made. According to Freud, the human psyche has three aspects and each develop at different stages of life: The Id, Ego and Superego. The Id is the impulsive and unconscious part of the psyche, one that responds to instincts and desires. Id is only concerned with pleasure and instant satisfaction and often engages in primitive and illogical rationalization." Eric paused to take another sip and observed he had Amora hooked to his explanation. "The Superego incorporates values and morals that one is subjected to and taught to follow. It is the mirror opposite of Id, often timid and rational. It observes and enforces good behavior. The Ego serves to mediate between the two: the unrealistic Id and the timid Superego. Now a child is born with only Id. That is why they generally behave unreasonably. The Ego develops overtime curbing the Ids unrealistic demand. Society then influences and develops the Superego, making it aware of what is acceptable and what is not."

Eric paused again to bite on a succulent wing. Amora had finished her drink, engrossed in the explanation. Eric called for another. He looked around pretending to forget he was conversing with Amora. "Stop playing Eric, continue", she said, this time with a genuine smile.

"You have a pretty smile there Amora, you ought to use it often. So apart from the Id, the psyche can be and is conditioned by the world and self. Now this is the important part, if a person's Ego and Superego are not properly conditioned or worse, damaged, the Id can take over. Then, depending on what the person considers pleasurable, they will act without remorse. A psychopaths Id tells them killing is fun, the Superego for some reason does not question this impulse and thus the Ego allows it. Now the Id is also one that is easily offended. You may be able to lure out Lucifer by poking fun at him. You can also start focusing your search to psychiatrists and counselors, in case he has sought medical help." Eric concluded.

"That is in fact of great help Eric, thank you." Amora genuinely appreciated.

"You're most welcome Miss Rey. Now, how about you tell me what got you into journalism", Eric said with a smile.

"Only if you let me buy you the next drink", Amora replied, aware that she was now tipsy.

Despite her reluctance, she was having a nice time. After two hours of conversation, they moved to a cozy table at the corner of the pub as Lenny rigged up the karaoke machine on the wooden dance floor, a tradition after 11 PM.

Eric saw a gleam in Amora's eye that quickly faded.

"Oh my we have a singer lurking in the journalist", Eric said grinning.

"Oh no way man. I'm not getting up there" she said shyly. "I performed once, when I was eight. I got past only the second line when the seniors started snickering and by the time I finished the first paragraph the whole school was laughing. I have never been more embarrassed in my life and I'm never singing again."

It felt strange admitting that, she had not opened up to someone in quite some time now. Lost in the memory she didn't notice Eric get up and walk to the mike. She was brought to reality by an announcement.

"Will the pretty journalist in the corner join me?" Eric yelled into the mike. "Amora Amora Amora..." he chanted. It took only seconds for the entire pub to join in, yelling out her name. She couldn't hide anymore so she got up and joined Eric. He whispered in her ear: "Don't worry Miss Rey, I'm with you", and gently took her hand in his. She allowed him, more for comfort from the stage fear than anything else.

The tune to Beatles' 'Twist and Shout' began playing and the lyrics showed up on the large screen in front of them. Eric took the lead.

Well shake it up baby now, shake it up baby. Twist and shout, twist and shout..

She joined him on the second line.

C'mon C'mon C'mon C'mon baby now, C'mon baby now. C'mon and work it on out, work it on out..

Eric put his arm around Amora's shoulder and pulled her closer.

Well, work it on out, honey, work it on out. You know you look so good, look so good..

Amora put her arm around Eric's waist and they started swaying to the tune.

You know you got me goin', now, got me goin'. Just like I knew you would, like I knew you would.

When they got to the 'ahhhh' the whole pub joined them. Amora never felt so alive. It was the hippy song, the cheering crowd and most of all the man holding her. He had given her the courage to get up there and she was glad she did.

They retired back to their table to the sounds of hooting and whistles. Right then Amora decided, if he asked her to come home she would go. Three songs later he did.

"Would you like to come back to my place for a more private performance?" He asked winking.

She blushed. "Let's go Mr. Luf"

They had barely got in the door when they started to undress. They had an animalistic urgency about them, the kind of urge two lovers who have spent a long time apart have. They made love, danced to the Beatles, made love again, spoke about life, made love again and finally fell asleep in each other's arms.

Amora woke up in the middle of the night, dehydrated. She didn't want to wake Eric so she found her way to the kitchen for a glass of water. When she returned, she tiptoed towards the bed. She bumped into and knocked over the laundry basket and a few clothes fell to the floor. She bent down and started throwing them back in the basket. It was a full moon night and the moon shone brightly in the night sky, its light seeping through the open balcony door. It illuminated the last cloth she picked. She stared at in shock.

It was a red sweater, the exact kind she had sealed in the evidence bag earlier that day.



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