A Lonely Table for Three


“You should have not killed him.” Adam said coldly.

Dan looked at him nervously. “I know… I know… I was out of my mind,” he replied breathlessly. Cold sweat was trickling down his brows, despite the cold air in the restaurant they were in.

“Well – actually I do not blame you for killing him. It is just that you did it so ruthlessly – so carelessly. But I am not surprised, of course.” He shrugged. “What to expect, anyway?”

Dan gulped and shrank in his seat. “I’m sorry, Adam. I won’t do it again.” he whispered, barely audible.

“Oh, for God’s sake! Of course you will not do it again. You already did it, remember?” Adam spat back sarcastically.

“Stop it, Adam! Can’t you see that he can’t think straight at the moment?” Amanda joined in. She was tired of seeing them having an unfair quarrel. She decided that she had to do something – and there she was.

“Precisely. Don’t you see that that is the problem? He cannot even think straight. That is why he needed us in the first place. I am glad you finally came into the right conclusion.” Adam gave a sinister laugh. “Thanks to you, little Danny.”

“Stop calling me that.” Dan hissed, his posture rigid. Adam looked at him and sneered. He knew Dan would not have the guts to fight him. After all, he was the one to count on.

Amanda sighed. “So what’s next? I would suggest putting an end to this useless fight and start using our brain to solve the problem.” She picked her glass and looking at the pretty soft bubbles.

Adam chimed in, “The problem which Dan caused.”

“Don’t start, Adam.” Amanda warned.

“Listen, I’m sorry, okay? I told you I was out of my mind. It – it just happened.” Dan began stuttering; his mind was replaying the scene that happened not too long ago.. “He – he yelled at me and I yelled back – he seemed surprised and – and then he attacked me.” He stopped to take a deep breath and tried to recollect himself. “The next thing I knew he was lying on the floor, dead. And I was holding a bloody knife on my hand.”

Adam did not say anything. Instead, he toyed with his wine glass, his mind working; processing things.

Cautiously, Amanda asked, “Are you sure it’s you? I mean, are you sure it was you who killed him, and not – err – not one of the others?” She watched Dan carefully, noticing his furrowed brows, the sweat beads forming around his temples, his tremor lips – slowly deciding whether the poor guy had the courage to kill his father or not.

“Am I sure? The hell I am! I am not sure! I’m not even sure who I am right now.” Realizing that his tone had raised an octave and the other guests had started to notice him, he then lowered his voice and continued with a sad chuckle, “How can I be sure about anything if there’s so many of you popping out and always telling me what to do?”

Amanda was touched. She suddenly felt guilty, so she took Dan’s hands and gently squeezed them both, “I’m sorry, Dan. But isn’t it the main reason why you searched for us at first? Because you needed support – and you didn’t know what to do? You needed someone, and then there were us.”

Dan brushed her hands away. “Never mind.” He took a large gulp of his drink. “It was my fault anyway.”

“Oh, would you mind – you know I cannot tolerate alcohol well.” Amanda protested.

Dan looked at her. “I said I am tired of you all telling me what to do.” He said harshly.

It was then when Adam decided to join the conversation again, “Enough with the drama. Has anybody seen you at the crime scene?”

“I don’t know –” Dan paused for a few seconds, “but I don’t think so.”

“Where’s the bloody knife? Was it yours? Did you bring it with you?”

“Hell no! It was already in there, in his house. I think it’s his. I left it there after I cleaned up my prints.”

“Good. Now stop talking, take a deep breath, and think carefully before you answer this. Have you – as far as you remember – left anything at the crime scene, which could lead anyone to you, or be used to track you down?”

The two of them waited patiently until Dan finally answered, also carefully, “As far as I remember, no.”

Adam exhaled deeply. “So now we have to work on your alibi. And as far as you know, neither of us,” he glanced at Amanda, “can be involved, and so do the others as well.”

“I know.” Dan said quietly.

“Excuse me, Sir, do you need anything? Is everything okay?” The three of them looked at the distraction. Apparently the head waiter was looking back at them politely – politeness with a hint of suspiciousness.

Dan let out a nervous laugh. “Of course. No, we are – I mean, I am good. I’m just feeling a little bit unwell, that’s it.”

“Are you okay, Sir? We could help you if you need anything.” The waiter replied, the expectation – or question? – was clear in his eyes.

“No, I’m good. In fact, I was just about to leave. Thanks anyway.” Dan smiled tensely.

“You’re welcome, Sir.”

And after the short interruption, Dan paid the bills, and left the table for one he was seated alone at – with two of his numerous alter egos.

 

Author’s note:
😉 You might want to read this:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alter_ego
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dissociative_identity_disorder

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