by Amy Cross
***
“Man,” Nathaniel muttered as the three of them finally reached the main entrance hallway. Looking up at the huge paintings that lined the walls, he was momentarily struck dumb by the grandeur of the place. “These people sure know how to live. It's like a goddamn palace.”
“Try not to get too starstruck,” Cavaleri replied bitterly. “We're here to do a job.”
“Look at this,” Tom hissed, picking up a candlestick from a nearby table. “What do you reckon this is? Solid gold?”
“Grab it on the way out,” Nathaniel told him. “Once we melt all this stuff down, we'll be rich. I swear to God, I knew the guy was loaded up to his eyeballs, but I never expected the place to be quite so crazy. Do you reckon he's got, like, gold underpants and stuff like that?”
“A gold toilet,” Tom muttered with a laugh.
“It's not about money,” Cavaleri muttered, “it's about -”
Stopping suddenly, she listened to the darkness, convinced that she'd heard a noise. She looked all around, waiting for some hint of movement, but gradually she began to realize that it might just have been her mind playing tricks on her. Although she was trying to seem calm and collected, she was struggling with every passing second to hold herself together.
“What is it?” Nathaniel asked.
“I thought...” She paused, before turning to look back across the dark hallway. The only light came from the moon, which was whining brightly on the other side of the large window above the door. “I thought I heard something, that's all.” She turned to Nathaniel. “We need to get this done. The long we wait, the more chance that -”
“Who are you?” a voice called out suddenly.
Turning, Cavaleri saw that Edgar's manservant Jacob had emerged from one of the adjacent rooms.
“What are you doing in this house?” he asked. “Inspector Cavaleri, is that you?”
“It is,” she replied, her mind racing as she tried to work out what to say. “I'm just... We received reports of a disturbance, so we came up to check it out.”
“Who are these young men?” he continued. “Are they your deputies?”
“Absolutely.”
“Evening, Sir,” Tom said with a grin, as if he was enjoying himself.
“Nobody in this house reported any disturbance,” Jacob said with a frown as he shuffled toward her. “Everyone else has retired to bed. I was given the night off, but I've been in my room the whole time and I'm quite certain I would know if something was wrong.” He turned toward the stairs. “I must wake His Lordship at once and -”
“No,” Cavaleri said quickly, putting a hand on his arm to stop him from going to the stairs. “Please, there's no need to disturb His Lordship.”
“But -”
“Let him sleep.”
“Who contacted you?” Jacob asked with a frown, as if he was starting to realize that something was seriously wrong. “I still don't understand, Inspector, why are you here? If there's some kind of an emergency -”
Before he could finish, he let out a gasp as Tom Ward slammed the candlestick down on the back of his head. As the old man crumpled to the floor, Tom crouched down and hit him several more times, until finally the heavy candlestick crunched through the side of his head, breaking his skull and sending blood splattering across the floor along with pieces of bone. As if to make sure the job was completely done, Tom smashed the candlestick down a few more times, smearing pieces of Jacob's brain against the marble floor.
“That's enough!” Cavaleri hissed.
“Gotta make sure,” Tom replied, rolling Jacob onto his back and smiling as he saw the old man's dead eyes. “There. The last thing we need is any witnesses. He ain't gonna be telling anyone anything.”
“You didn't have to kill him,” Cavaleri replied, shocked by the sight of blood leaking from Jacob's head. “He was an old man, he was just doing his job. You could have just knocked him out.”
“And what would have happened when he woke up?” Tom asked. “He saw you, Inspector. He'd have told everyone you were here, and us too. I know you might not be too obsessed with covering your tracks, but the rest of us aren't looking to be heroes or martyrs. Anyone who sees us gets the same treatment as this old chap. It's a crappy world, but those are the breaks.”
“He's right,” Nathaniel replied. “You said it yourself, we have to do this properly. It's a shame the old man saw us, but he did, and he had to be dealt with. I'm sorry if you don't like the sight of blood, but when you head out to murder someone, a little gore is one of the occupational hazards. And in case you've forgotten, you're about to see a whole lot more when you find Le Compte and deliver what's coming to him.”
“Isn't that Alice Marco girl up here too?” Tom muttered, getting to his feet with a leery grin. “I can think of a few things I'd like to do to that pretty girl before the night's over.” He turned to Nathaniel. “You hold her down for me, and then I'll return the favor, yeah? I'm going first, though. There's no way I want your seconds.”
“Shut up,” Cavaleri hissed. “This isn't some kind of all-round crime spree. We're here to do a job.”
“But -”
“Leave Alice Marco alone,” she continued. “I'm serious. If you have to tie her up and stick a gag on her, that's fine. The same goes for Kate Langley. But you don't kill them, and you don't do anything else that crosses your sick minds.”
“Then let's do it,” Nathaniel told her, “because I promise you, the longer this takes, the more people are gonna get hurt. You're the one who's gonna finish Le Compte off, so what are you waiting for? We've done our part so far, the main show's up to you. Or are are you starting to get cold feet?”
“Of course not,” she replied, trying not to let the fear show in her eyes. “I... Make sure no-one else disturbs us. I'm going to find his room. It won't take long. We can be out of here in just a few minutes. Unless anyone else wakes up, I want you to stay right here and wait for me.”
Making her way up the stairs, Cavaleri tried not to think about the horrific sight of Jacob's cracked and bleeding head. When she reached the top and looked along the corridor, she paused for a moment, listening out for any hint that some of the house's occupants might be awake. There were a few creaks in the distance, just the sound of an old house settling at night. She was very much aware that her mind might start playing tricks on her, and that she needed to simply get moving.
Taking a deep breath, she thought back to the sight of Karya standing on the beach.
“For you,” she whispered to herself. “I'm doing this for you, and for the whole of Thaxos.”
Reaching under her jacket, she carefully took out the Crucifix of St. Joan. Staring down at the sharp tip, she realized that the time had finally come. She had imagined this moment a thousand times over the past few days, replaying it over and over as she sought to ensure that nothing could go wrong. Now, however, the time for action had arrived. With the crucifix gripped in her right hand, and with the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears, she made her way toward Edgar Le Compte's bedroom.
