Neva looks at Jewel and says nothing. Her mantra continues to flow over her mind, pushing away the shocking hurt that Janine’s death brings. She’d saved her life and in some way felt she owned it. It was not Jewel’s or anyone else’s to take. Neva’s world was better with Janine in it, even when they were apart.
‘Clever, don’t you think? Using the scenarios from films to celebrate the deaths. I decided on that after the first kill… there was something not quite right about that one. It lacked finesse and needed a proper stage on which to be celebrated.’
She drops the phone, picture face up, onto Neva’s stomach. Then she takes a step back.
‘Perfect. Mother will appreciate this,’ she says.
The knife drops back into Jewel’s hand. Neva tenses, pulling against the restraints as Jewel approaches. Then, the bedroom door bursts open.
Jewel spins around to face the door and with her attention diverted, Neva gives the bonds a hard tug. The wooden spokes on the footboard give way with a loud crack. She pulls one arm free, while catching hold of the spoke and gripping it, sharp end pointed outwards as a makeshift weapon.
‘Fleur!’ says Annalise. ‘What are you doing?’
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Jewel
With Mother standing before her Jewel finds herself in a quandary. She wanted to surprise her with the dead and presented Neva. She pulls against Mother’s control on her, fighting hard to not let herself be plummeted back into her subservient role.
‘I have a present for you Mother,’ Jewel says.
‘Put the knife away, Fleur,’ Annalise says.
Jewel frowns. Why won’t she call her Jewel? Then she remembers Neva. She has to do this before Mother tries to stop her. She looks behind her and sees that Neva has freed one of her arms. Good, then this won’t be too easy. She needs to have the war again and win this time. She needs to beat Neva down until she’s blood and pulp and nothing more.
‘What are you doing, Mother?’ Jewel says as Mother moves into the room.
‘She’s not your enemy, Fleur,’ Mother says. ‘You had everything, she’s the one I gave up. She should want to kill you and me.’
‘No one needs to die today,’ says Michael from the doorway.
Jewel’s face goes blank when she sees him there, but her eyes glare at him. Neva’s lover. Are he and Mother now plotting for the ownership of the Network? Nothing would surprise her.
Michael looks back at her, shocked. His eyes show his recognition of who and what Jewel is.
‘Elsa?’ Michael says.
Jewel laughs and then slips into the voice she used as his colleague at Archive. ‘Oh Michael, I just want to help.’
‘How?’ Michael says.
‘I took over the identity of the real Elsa once we knew she was likely to be recruited. Mother’s plan was years and years in the making,’ Jewel says. She casts Annalise a proud glance.
‘I sent you to Archive before I knew you had your own agenda,’ Annalise comments.
Neva moves behind Jewel. There’s a piercing crack as another spindle breaks and Neva pulls herself free. She gets to her feet. She looms tall and regal. Jewel casts a glance Neva’s way.
No, Neva won’t take this moment from her.
Jewel is in the centre of the three of them now, like the core of a trinity, the heart of everything. She turns from one to the other. Michael. Mother. Neva.
‘She’s your sister,’ Mother says. ‘Do you remember?’
‘Yes,’ says Neva. ‘I remember everything. Especially what you and Herod did to me.’
‘I had no choice. Fae…’
‘I’m not Fae. Anymore than she is Fleur. You changed us both and there’s no going back,’ Neva says.
‘Neva?’ says Michael.
‘I broke again, Michael. I’m no longer the Neva you knew. I’m a… I’m… Fae and Neva. With joint knowledge of who and what I am. I know my real purpose,’ Neva says.
‘My child!’ Annalise says, smiling and proud. ‘I knew you would evolve.’
‘I’m not your child,’ Neva says coldly. ‘I’m a child of the house.’
‘She’s my gift…’ says Jewel. ‘Mine. I wanted to make her beautiful for you.’
Annalise’s attention switches to the photographs on the floor.
‘I hoped it wasn’t you…’ Annalise says. ‘Fleur…’
‘I wanted to make you proud of me, like you are of Neva,’ Jewel says. She smiles looking down at the photographs.
Annalise looks at the wall of death as though realizing that she has created a monster in both of her daughters.
‘You could never be her, Fleur,’ Annalise says.
Annalise’s rejection sends Jewel tipping over that final edge of sanity. She falls into the precipice of madness, consumed by her urge for revenge. Knife between them, Jewel turns on Neva. The hatred inside her overflows. She sees blood spilling red as she anticipates the coming fight that this time she will win. She runs through every move that Mother’s school taught her. In her mind’s eye she is stronger, faster and more powerful than her sibling. And Neva’s weakness is the man; if all else fails, she’ll take him down to cripple Neva further.
Neva lashes out first, the wooden spoke in her hand crashes against Jewel’s wrist, but she holds onto the knife. Jewel comes back at Neva, the knife flashes through the air, barely missing her face in a vicious attempt to spoil her. Neva ducks away, but uses the wood again to whack Jewel hard on the back of her calf. Jewel stumbles, then rounds on Neva.
Jewel focuses her attention on the enemy, even as she feels Annalise and Michael moving around them both. Each looking for a safe opportunity to intervene. The bedroom is their arena and only one of them will leave it. The sisters circle each other. And as Neva moves forward, attacking first again, Jewel tracks backwards, keeping distance between them as she assesses what her next move should be. But patience is not Jewel’s best virtue, even though she tries to adhere to the training, her need to see Neva’s blood splashed over the faded room, pushes her to leap forward. Just as the cracks in her mind widen and take away the last vestiges of good judgement.
The knife flickers through the air in a series of cuts. Neva fends her off with the piece of wood and then the knife slices through her sleeve, cutting her arm. There is a splash of red as Jewel pulls back the knife and then spots of blood fall down onto the pictures. The spilling of Neva’s blood sets free a torrent of emotion. Jewel throws herself forward, feral, wanting more. She aims for Neva’s throat. Jewel hears Mother cry out but ignores it as she sees the beauty of Neva’s death almost realized. Then Annalise is between them and the knife hits home: a clean stab in the jugular.
Jewel pulls back in shock. Blood spurts. The same way she wanted but not from Mother. The turquoise kaftan darkens, turning purple as Mother slumps down between them. Jewel finds herself facing Neva again. They look at each other in equal shock. Jewel looks down at the body.
Mother is dead. And nothing else matters. She raises the knife and swings at Neva.
There is a muffled crack and a hard thump hits her in the back, sending Jewel to her knees.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Neva
The knife falls from Jewel’s fingers. She pitches forward and Neva catches her. They both sink to the floor. Neva holds Jewel as a patch of blood widens on her back. Michael’s aim was true, the bullet had penetrated her back and had buried itself in her heart. She wasn’t dead yet, but she was dying.
Neva turns Jewel around, looking down into her familiar face. Then Michael comes closer.
‘I couldn’t find the killer because she was right under my nose,’ Michael says. ‘Elsa. I should have recognized she was your sister but she was wearing a wig and contacts. My god, she was insane and yet she played the part of Elsa to perfection. She was so… controlled.’
‘I remember her now. Brown bob. She was talking to me at the hotel when Solomon Granger accused me of—’
‘Jesus! He meant her! Not you,’
Michael says.
Neva’s mind flicks back to that moment as a flash of perfect memory clarifies the situation behind her eyes.
‘It’s her,’ Granger said. ‘Angie! I thought you were dead!’
Neva looked at Granger, shocked.
‘You killed her! She killed my Angela!’ Solomon said, looking directly at Elsa.
‘I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill Angela Carter or steal Granger’s child. She did. For her mother,’ Neva said. ‘For a while I doubted my own sanity. I thought that I had done these things under another personality, one I knew nothing about. It’s the sort of mind-fuck that these people do to the kids.’
There is a sense of euphoria as Neva realizes she is not guilty. Such a small thing, in the scheme of all of the deaths she has delivered. But she hadn’t wanted Carter’s blood on her hands.
Michael looks around the room and nods. ‘This is fucked up.’
‘Tell me about it. You’re not the only one with a weird family. She killed Janine.’ Neva glances over at the mobile phone. Discarded among the photographs and blood on the floor. She lets the grief and loss come out for one brief moment. A tear slips down her cheek. She looks up at Michael and lets him see the raw emotion inside her. No more hiding. No more pretending. She can feel and she wants to, even when it hurts this much.
‘I’m sorry,’ Michael says.
They look at each other for a beat.
‘We have to get out of here,’ Michael says, as if attempting to break the spell.
‘I can’t,’ Neva says. ‘This is where I belong. I have to take over from Annalise. I’m the only heir.’
‘Neva? You don’t have to do anything. You’re free. You can just walk away from this shit,’ Michael says.
Neva strokes Jewel’s hair as the last breath hisses from the girl’s lips. She wipes away the stray tear. Then she pushes Jewel’s body away. She stands up.
‘She was fragile. Mother’s methods drove her insane. She was right to send me to the house and not Fleur,’ Neva says. ‘I wish I could leave. But it’s far more complicated than that. It’s time we both faced the truth, Michael.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Michael says.
‘If you don’t take over the Network, and I don’t take on the Almunazama, then someone else will.’
‘Neva…?’
‘She told me. She told me everything. Every visit she made at the house, she brought me back to being Fae and my duty was instilled in me. Mother wanted an alliance of the two most powerful cabals in the world. We can do that, Michael. And our children will bring it all together.’
Chapter Seventy
Michael
‘If you don’t take control, Mia will,’ Neva says. ‘We can’t have that.’
‘No, Neva. The Network is evil. It’s everything that both of us have fought against. How can we…?’
I feel myself shattering inside as more of Beech’s secrets come crashing back into my mind. I fall to my knees, head shaking from side to side in silent denial of everything that Neva says. Inside me I try to fight it. But deep down, I know that she’s right.
She kneels down beside me, pulling me into her embrace as if she understands the inner turmoil that now threatens to eat me up from the inside.
‘You know what we have to do,’ she says.
But still I fight on. I see my career at Archive, the life I’d wanted for myself fade as if my inner vision has become myopic. But I know the truth: Neva and I have always been set on this journey. We are the creation of our own parents as well as of the house. Moulded in their image to maintain a legacy. I even remember the three words to say to Mia to make her stand down. This revelation soaks in as I free myself from Neva’s arms. I can save Mia – she can have a normal life. But it will take one final sacrifice to make it happen.
Neva and I remain kneeling. I stare at her without seeing her. I see Mia now instead, running back towards Ben, taking Freya into her arms. They have a chance.
I take Neva’s hand and we both stand.
I’ve been fighting my inheritance ever since Beech was shot in the kill house at Alderley Edge. I’m a child of the house of killers. And beside me, as we walk downstairs, is the one person who understands. She, like me, must take up a mantle: a poisoned chalice if we make it so. But we don’t have to. It’s a discussion we will both have when we start our full and new life together as heads of our respective families.
In the hallway the young Almunazama assassins wait for us as we descend the staircase.
We pause before we take the final steps to the hallway, maintaining an elevated position, that shows our status among them. I can’t remember how I know to do this, but it feels right.
‘Mother is dead,’ Neva says to the assembled children and adults that make up Annalise’s household. ‘And Jewel… Fleur… had to be retired for her part in that. I am Fae D’Aragon: codename Neva. I am the rightful heir and leader of the Almunazama.’
The butler steps forward. I expect a challenge but instead he bows before Neva. The other warriors and trainees follow suit with a murmur of ‘Namaste’ as they bow to Neva.
‘Annalise told us to follow you in the event that this happened. I am Jeremy,’ the butler says.
Neva shows no surprise that Annalise has prepared them for her coming as she accepts their pledges of allegiance one by one. It is odd seeing her in this role, but also right.
‘This is Michael. He’s Mr Beech,’ says Neva. ‘He’s my consort.’
Her words baffle me as they seem so archaic. But the assassins bow to me now and Neva takes my hand. I feel as though I’ve been plummeted back into a different age, not the tech-driven world I live in. But her hand… feels like it always belonged there.
Neva turns now to Jeremy. He looks like an old retainer to me, but I see such character in his face. He’s seen much in Annalise’s house of killers. I know he is a force to reckon with.
‘Have the crew return with the jet as soon as possible. If they are still with Mia, have them detain her. Michael needs to go to England and claim his position.’
‘Yes, Mother,’ says Jeremy.
Neva blinks. She’s shocked by the label. She looks at me for reassurance. I nod. I see the burden landing on her strong shoulders. I squeeze her hand to remind her she has me beside her. We are never going to be alone again. She accepts my silent promise to be her rock, just as she will be mine.
‘Upstairs,’ I say. ‘The bodies need to be disposed of. That room… strip it of everything and clean it.’
Jeremy looks at Neva for her approval of everything I’ve said.
‘Do it,’ she says. ‘Always obey Mr Beech as you do me.’
Jeremy turns and indicates to two men, who take to the stairs to do our bidding.
Neva turns then to the waiting assassins and staff of the château.
‘It’s business as usual,’ she says. ‘Back to work.’
The crowd disperses on her command.
We watch them go in silence, and then I raise Neva’s hand to my lips. Never have two people been more suited than us.
‘The car will take you to the airport,’ she says. ‘Go. Claim your crown. Then come back to me.’
Again, her words summarize our reign, but I know I’m no king and so the weight of what’s to come sits heavily on my shoulders.
‘What will you do here?’ I ask.
‘See how it all works. Change things. Maybe,’ she shrugs. ‘I don’t want to be parted from you for long. Those days are gone Michael,’ she says.
I pull her into my arms. Heart swelling with pride and joy and a tinge of anxiety, as I know we will be taking on the world. I stare off into space. Thinking of how morally wrong the Almunazama and the Network are. And how we might improve that for the better. Or how we might not. But I do know this: we have a legacy to take on and neither of us can shake our duty now. It’s the way we were made. And in doing so we will have a life together. We will be able to love each other. Has any other Beech ever d
one that?
I release her again and kiss her hand one more time before I let her go. For now, we’ll part, but on my return, we’ll take on what we know we must, for the future of all concerned is now in our hands. Even the future, as she’d said, of our own children.
Four suited men escort me to a limousine. I cast Neva a last glance before I leave the château and get into the car. She stands tall, bearing the burden of her thorned crown well. I don’t look back as we drive to the airport and to my future.
THE END
Acknowledgments
As always, huge thanks go to my agent Camilla Shestopal for her guidance, support and friendship. She often listens to my ramblings of ideas during the writing process and it really helps me to focus and shape them into a whole coherent piece.
A massive thank you to Tom Irwin, a director of Accuracy International, for his really informative discussion with me about their sniper weapons. In the height of lockdown, Tom very kindly called me all the way from the USA and ran through the features of their weapons and how they could be effectively deployed on a target. All of which helped me a great deal to bring the believability to Neva’s use of the AX308 in order to fake Talia’s death. I’m definitely going to take him up on the offer to visit their factory too!
Huge thanks to the actor Frazer Hines for his knowledge on horses and livery stable practices, which became a wonderful backdrop for a murder. Thanks also to Linda Compagnoni Walther for helping me get to grips with locations and travel in Switzerland. Much appreciation has to go, once again, to Colin Paul Renouf who helps me massively to focus on technical details – all of which adds to the content used in the world of my spies.
Thanks to my editor Bethan Morgan, who keeps me on track and catches me if I fall. Wow, how she guided me on this one! I know her words of wisdom have pushed me hard to deliver the best I can to bring The House of Killers to this final conclusion.
Kill a Spy: The House of Killers Page 30
