Macau (two years past)
“David, there’s someone knocking on the door. David?”
There comes no reply. Marcia Clark rises from the stool of the small cosmetic table, putting aside her makeup. She strolls to the livingroom area of the vast luxury suite of the Macau hotel. No husband David. He must have gone to the lobby for newspapers. Marcia assures her robe is righted, nothing flashing, and goes to the hotel room door, the knocks turning to fervent pounding. She peers through the peephole. It is a uniformed policeman. Feeling safe, she opens.
“Ms. Marcia Clark?” an Asian man in plain clothes flashes a badge, the uniformed officer stepping aside.
“Yes.”
“Macau police. You need to come with us. We have questions.”
“Well... ah... you need to talk to my husband. He’s not here.”
“We need to talk to you. Come along.”
“But... but... I’m not dressed.”
“Get dressed. Be quick.”
There is urgency. There is stress. The police! Bad enough back in the States. But while on vacation in a foreign country!
Marcia leaves the door upon and turns to the bedroom. More stress... the man follows.
“I’ll need privacy.”
“You’ll need to be escorted.”
“My husband is a very powerful man. He’ll not be taking this lightly.”
He is... powerful... and he’s not at all taking this or anything to do with his wife Marcia lightly.
“The impertinence!” Marcia huffs doffing her robe, incorrectly assuming the plain clothes policeman would look away. He does not. He ogles. Marcia dresses quickly.
Back to the livingroom for her purse, Marcia spies an envelope propped on top, addressed with her name. She grabs as the officer takes her by the elbow.
“What’s this about?” a demand more than a question.
“Passing counterfeit currency. A very serious charge in Macau. The casinos have very strongly lobbied the government.”
“But my husband gave me all the money!”
The officer smiles evilly.
“Perhaps he will appear on your behalf. Perhaps he will wait and later visit you in prison.”
David did neither.
*****
The note.
Dear Marcia,
If you’re reading this, you’re most likely under arrest. Sorry I could not be there. Gloating is not my thing. But revenge is. Since the Portuguese ceded control of Macau a few years ago, the island is subject to Chinese law and jurisdiction. I suspect you’ll be relegated to the mainland... Guangdong Penitentiary. It’s a warm climate there. Enjoy your stay. Do hope you’ll be getting some sun. I’ll try to stay in contact by way of the American consulate. And will also arrange some BCC for you.
David
Marcia reads, tears flowing as she awaits in court for a hearing. The shock of the notation... BCC... diminishes the distress of being arrested. Despite her head spinning, mind addled, husband David’s note brings clarity to her plight. BCC... big black cock. She used the term in what she thought were private communications with an old college friend... close... so close that they frequently... and explicitly... exchanged stories of their sexual exploits.
Marcia has been unfaithful. But it was discreet, she tells herself... both dalliances. With a surgeon... an erudite man of color... details of the relationship offered in confidence to her friend... her paramour whimsically described in the email as having ‘big black cock’. Her exuberant advisement... ‘try it’.
Obviously David learned and is not being whimsical about it, she realizes. A large wad of bills, apparently counterfeit, handed to her to splurge in the hotel casino. His absence at the time of her arrest... both telling.
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