*
The plan had worked so far, thought Pierce staring at his apartment in the rain. It had come to him after getting Schell’s offer to skip out on the university break-in. Before that he had been stumped on how to return to the Manor without attracting suspicion from Cleaver. But now he had it.
Having separated himself from the rest of the group, he would enter his old apartment. But rather than grab a few sentimental items, he would light the place on fire and immediately pull the fire alarm. This would give him an excuse for not staying in his time and returning to the Manor. He would act distraught and melancholy, hopefully gaining some more time to figure out the reason for his presence as a Hunt member.
Armed with a lighter and newspaper from the convenience store around the corner, Pierce started to cross the empty street, but stopped after a step. For a minute he thought he noticed someone further down the street in a long black jacket. He had been on guard since leaving Schell, sensing he was being watched and tried to spot a follower. Pierce looked again, but no one was there. He figured it was nerves and that no one from the Manor would possibly be following him. Besides, he thought, the person down the street had been going in the opposite direction. It was probably just some college kid getting out of the rain.
Shaking his head at his new found paranoia, Pierce continued his trek across the water logged street. As he reached the other side, a high pitched sound started emanating from his building, shortly followed by its residents. Although not sociable by any means, Pierce recognized some of the people grouping together on the sidewalk.
Before he could register the strange coincidence of this situation, an explosion erupted from the top floor. The windows of the top right apartment shot out jets of flames, sprinkling debris on the crowd below. Without hesitating, Pierce turned and slowly walked away, the cries and sirens filling the night behind him. His apartment had just exploded.
His paranoia returned, but was joined by confusion and a little bit of fear. Had someone just tried to kill him or was it an actual accident? He couldn’t accept that on the very night he planned to set his apartment on fire, an explosion would erupt within it. And from what he had seen, his was the only apartment initially affected. Without realizing it, he made his way back to the Bistro without looking.
He walked in to the establishment in a daze, passing the questioning hostess without stopping. The room was gently lit with candles, filling the luxurious crème walls with shadows. A piano was being expertly played, neither drowning out conversation nor inaudible in the far side of the room. Disciplined waiting staff glided effortlessly between tables, depositing dishes and removing them with ease. Pierce watched one waitress magically deliver four plates to a table without apparent effort. While following her journey to another table, Pierce spotted his friend Schell in the far corner.
He was talking amiably with a pair of women at the table beside him as Pierce approached. He was still shocked by what had happened earlier, but was trying to hide it and act nonchalant.
“Ah my friend,” exclaimed Schell after taking a sip of wine. “I was worried you wouldn’t find your way back here. However theses two ladies have been kind enough to indulge me while I waited.”
“That is very kind indeed,” Pierce addressed the pair. “You both deserve a medal.” Normally he would have only muttered some inconsequential words, faced with a pair of attractive women. However his recent experiences had removed some of his usual timidity.
He was also feeling braver from his new outfit; it felt like a costume that he could use to create this new character he was becoming. As if by telepathy, the more vocal of the pair noticed that his clothing and Schell’s were very similar and asked if they were uniforms.
“Indeed they are,” replied Schell with practiced ease. “My friend and I are both military attaches with the German Embassy.”
Pierce was glad that Schell had such an easy answer at hand, since he would have probably stood there stammering or avoided the question entirely. He was doubly grateful that he had learned some easy German phrases from Schell during their time together, as he was able to understand when his friend told him to sit down.
“Diplomats, really?” asked the girl, now fully intrigued.
“Well Ottawa is the National Capital,” answered Pierce, trying out the storyline for himself. “It’s absolutely teeming with diplomatic riff-raff.” He hoped the self deprecating line would make them seem unpretentious and appealing.
“Well then you should probably join us,” she answered, fully enticed by the pair of handsome diplomats. “We can keep an eye on you and make sure you don’t get into any trouble.”
Schell was impressed by Pierce’s improvisational skills and was eager to join them. However a warning glance from his friend slowed him down and he changed his response accordingly.
“I’m afraid we must regretfully decline,” he said sorrowfully. “As we have some business to discuss. However once we’re done…” He trailed off expectantly.
“You know where to find us,” she offered, hoping they would finish quickly.
Schell gave them a smile and wink before turning back to the table and giving Pierce a questioning look.
“This had better be good, they are the most promising women here,” he said lightly. “I’m not sure how long they will be available. The waiter just brought them their second bottle and two bankers could suddenly seem more appealing than two mysterious diplomats.”
“But we’re not diplomats,” countered Pierce.
“Details Patrick,” Schell brushed aside. “So what’s so important that we are not currently wining and dining those attractive ladies?”
“My apartment exploded,” replied Pierce calmly. “Before I could even get inside the building, the fire alarm went off and everyone came outside. Then a couple seconds later, my apartment exploded into flames.”
“That’s terrible,” offered Schell sympathetically. A few moments of silence passed before he spoke again. “Who would want to blow you up?”
“I don’t know Wil! Nobody should,” exclaimed Pierce, trying to keep his voice low.
“Buildings don’t just explode by themselves,” instructed Schell. “You must have some enemies, all of us do. How do you think we all got recruited? This was a better offer than what we had.”
“I’ve been trying to think, but I don’t know.” This was not precisely true, as he knew that both Drummond and Cleaver would have gladly lit the match.
“Very strange indeed, considering the rumour I heard before we left.”
“What rumour?” asked Pierce.
“That you might leave the Manor and return to your previous life.”
“Well I had thought about it,” responded Pierce weakly, somewhat taken off guard. “But I hadn’t really decided. But I can’t now, not with everything I own up in flames.”
“Good choice, although I’m sure you would have made it anyway.”
“Very probably.”
“Under the circumstances I think we should make our way back to the safe house.”
“I concur,” agreed Pierce. “People might be looking for me after the explosion.”
“The explosion?” questioned Schell finishing his glass of wine and rising from the table. “No my friend, the women. Our female companions have left.” He pointed to the empty table beside them.
A Malevolent Manner (Patrick Pierce #1) Page 44
