Sculptures.
As he walked around the gallery he shook his head. How
exactly am I meant to get interested in sculpture if I can’t work out what it’s
meant to be? Fifteen years of working as a police man had taught John Doyle to
look at things in new and unexpected ways. That was how you caught people, by
thinking outside the box. But this was so outside the box that it was on the
other side of the room.
As he stood there he noticed a woman beside him. Long
dreadlocked hair hanging over her shoulders “Having trouble with ‘Passion in
the subway’?” she asked.
“Not so much trouble, as total
incomprehension,“ he replied. That got a
laugh out of her.
“That’s OK, most people don’t get it. I’m not too sure I do
and I made it. I’m Thenny by the way” she said as John tried to get out an
apology. “Come let me show you something that may be more to your taste” she
said as she took his hand and lead him through the room and behind a curtain.
“Now this is something I can understand” he said as he
looked at the figures. Each one almost looked alive. Frozen in action, it
looked as if he could feel the texture of their clothes, the sharpness of
weapons. “They all look so lifelike.”
“Thanks. I used techniques that date back thousands of
years. The same ones used by the people that created the temples in Athens.” As
she spoke she ran her hands over a warrior. Her face looked full of sadness.
All of them looked as if they could date from ancient times.
But two, they were very much modern. One was holding a gun in his hand, pointed
at a target. The other was shielding his face from something as if too
terrified to see what the other was shooting at.
“These ones look kind of,” John voice trailed off as he
looked at the gun man’s face. “He looks
just like Louie Santano, and this one is a dead ringer of his brother Marko” he
said pointing at the other figure.
“Interesting, I try to avoid faces that can be easily
recognised. It spots people getting offended.
“Well there spot on, you’ve even got Marko’s birthmark on
his neck,” John said as he inspected the statues.
“Are they bad people?” She asked, sounding more than a
little worried.
“Very, Marko’s a drug pusher over on ninth and Louie’s his
muscle. They prey on the homeless girls down there.”
“Thenny, you’re
neglecting then guests.” The speaker was a slender man. Most likely her agent
or something like that John thought.
“Of cause,” she said as she slipped a hand onto John’s arm
and lead him back to the party. “Can’t be having too much fun. Not like it’s a
party or anything like that,” she whispered into his ear.
Later that night after all the guests had gone Thenny walked
back behind the curtain. Who would have thought that a simple act of
self-defence could do so much good?
Placing a hand on Louie’s cheek she smiled. As she did the soft sound of
hissing snakes could be heard. Some would have almost said that her hair
started to move one its own.
