You know it's me

Dearest ...

I keep your name in reserve, to protect you, to avoid any clue leading back to you, but if at any time this letter falls into your hands you will have no difficulty in knowing that it is me.

This is my last evening in Marseilles, the place that has been my home for the last ten years. Tomorrow I am leaving for an unknown destination, I do not yet know where I will arrive, but it must be somewhere far away from here.

The events have come about in an unforeseen way. I knew that at some point it could happen, but I did not imagine it could be so soon...

I always knew that I was exposing myself to many risks when I decided to work for Mister "T", a tough, arrogant man who appeared to be a successful businessman. But in reality he was the biggest capo in southern Europe, the absolute owner of every shady business you can imagine: drugs, arms trafficking, prostitution... in short, the worst of the worst.

My work for him was limited to keeping the accounts of a wine export company, the perfect facade to maintain a certain profile as an honorable man.

I never really knew the details of "T's" dirty business, we didn't even see each other every day since I had my apartment in a part of the city quite far from his residence. However, I knew that my autonomy was limited, since he almost always sent for me and returned me with people he trusted. I knew that I was somehow being watched.

Our relationship was limited to strictly work-related matters. I must be honest, Mister "T" never showed any special interest in me, he did not make any invitations different from work, nor did he make any requests out of place, nor did he shower me with luxurious gifts. My life was quite routine, a good part of the day was dedicated to tidying up the company's accounts and occasionally I went out to eat and walk around the city.

But things began to change from the day you and I met in that ice cream shop. You were a tourist, it was your first time in Marseille. You followed me with your eyes when I entered the shop, and while I was looking at the display case with the ice cream, you asked me if I knew where to get a lemon and strawberry ice cream. That combination of flavors was very strange to me and I realized that you were just looking for conversation.

We spent five wonderful days, enough to fall in love and make plans to be together. I had decided to quit my job with "T". You would return to America to resolve some personal matters and in ten more days you would look for me again in Marseilles to leave for England.

I did not count that Mister "T" was aware of our meetings and that this had been a kind of affront to him.

Shortly after your departure for America Mister "T" made an unusual request. He asked me to pose for a painting, it was something very simple, me looking out the window while drinking a cup of coffee.

With a bit of mischief I went to the appointment. Mister "T" passed me to a room illuminated by large windows. Seeing several pictures of women drinking coffee caught my attention. I made myself comfortable and "T" ordered a famous painter to start the work, we waited for the assistant who brought the coffee, he left us alone. The lady came in with the steaming cups and gave me a look of astonishment, as if to alert me to something. I was overcome with the feeling that things were not right...

I posed for about three hours, until the sun began to set. The clerk slipped a small piece of paper into my hand while I waited for the driver to return me.

Once at home, I read the contents of the note: "No one survives after finishing the painting...". From that moment I knew I was in danger, I would wait a few more days, I would appear normal and before finishing the painting I would leave Marseille.

Four days later the painting was about to be finished, only small details were missing. By then I had decided to write this letter, thinking that one day chance might put it in your hands...

It occurred to me that the safest place to keep it was inside the painting itself, that the painter would surely finish it even if I was not present for the final details. I asked the assistant to find a way to hide the letter inside the painting...

Epilogue.

I never knew if you came back for me in Marseille. A month after my departure, the authorities arrested Mister "T" and put an end to his criminal organization. Initially all his assets were handed over to the authorities and soon after they were auctioned off to increase tax revenues. All the paintings were taken to public auctions...

Thank you for your time.