-1-
Born Rhine
I began to plan the murder of Martin DeLune In September.
To understand why you must understand that there are three things I can’t stand for.
Cold weather.
Disorder
And crying. Specifically children
I noticed my distaste for the latter a few years ago. The dreadful noise to me is like nails on a chalkboard. It test my nerves in an almost unnatural way. I would like to think I have always been this way and perhaps Roger did me a favor all those years ago. . . though I doubt it.
As I am sure you know Rosalie is a very quiet child, she never really asked anything from me nor I of her.
England seemed to be the best place to start over and we settled as soon as possible in Andover
The house had just completed renovations and, because this was before I hired Joy, I explained and showed to Rosalie the dangerous places she was to stay away from. The unsteady balcony connected to her room, the glasshouse. . . because of the poisonous plants and of course the pool.
Something about the water seemed to bother her most of all, her eyes were wet but she didn’t cry. The air was very quiet and I realized she was holding her breath. I of course thought nothing of it until a few days later.
It was one of those unusually warm fall days and I was outside reading on the veranda, the front door was slightly ajar and I heard the sound of breaking glass coming from inside the house
I found Rosalie in the living room and one of my vases shattered on the floor, the water from the vase staining the Persian rug. Cut flowers strewn on the floor.
“I’m sorry”, she said.
She started picking up the shards
of vase which pierced her skin, no sooner had she dropped the shards she
reached to pick them up again. I asked
her stop but she refused to listen, eventually I had to physically stop her but
she kept fighting me.
“I’ll fix it”, she kept saying, “Please don’t make me go in the water.”
“I don’t think I understand”, I said. My curiosity growing.
Her eyes were trained on her hands, which were covered in a mix of water, tears and blood.
She sat down and spoke softly, as if she was telling a story.
“Mommy’s father used to leave me in the water when I did something wrong. I didn’t like it. If I didn’t close my eyes and pretend to be asleep underwater he would get mad, but if I woke up he would get even more mad.”
It took me a few moments to realize what she was referring to.It was also the longest string of words she had ever spoken to me.
Admittedly I then did something that may have
been a little cruel. Out of curisosity of course.
“Rosalie, I want you to bring me something that means a lot to you.”
She seemed confused but she is very obedient. She dissppaeared for a while and reappeared with Melody ,with whom you are already acquainted with. She even had the foresight to wrap the toy in a dress to protect it from her bloody hands.
While she was gone I had light
the fireplace. Her eyes were trained on the fire, mezmerized by its glow.
“Rosalie”, I said kneeling so I was eye level with her., “I want you put this in the fireplace.”
“Please no”, she whispered it was very quiet
“Would you rather go in the water ?”, I asked and for the first time considering what I was doing.
Her lips stopped trembling and her eyes filled with a type of determination that it almost reminded me of Martin. She did not want to seem weak.
I hadn’t even notice how close she was to the fireplace before I turned it off. Without a word I took her to clean off her hands, she kept Melody close by her side. There were only surface scratches on her hands but they healed over time.
“It doesn’t hurt”, she said even though I hadn’t asked, “Not as much as . . ..”
"As much as what ?", I'd asked my thoughts elsewhere.
"Not being wanted, like Clarence. Not as much as Grandpa's other punishments."
She has a very good memory,with lots of stories to tell and she told me all of them. Her eyes
never met mine, her voice never wavered and at time I forgot I was speaking to
a child. She was not as meek as she appeared to be.
“Rose”, I said as I took her to her bedroom, “I actually quite like elephants.”
“Really ? “
“Yes, they say an elephant never forgets”
The very next day I hired Joy , Rosalie and I were hardly ever together or spoke very much after that . Joy was began to notice how smart she was how she liked to read and learn so the girl was never without distraction
The memories she told me about Martin kept me awake for a few nights. Then there were your letters. There were so very distant.
It was one of those nights, In Septemberthat I decided it was in my best interest to kill Martin DeLune.
The only question was how to do it.
---
Making the poison was not at all that difficult, one just needed to grasp the basics of intermediary chemistry. Growing poisonous plants had become somewhat of a fascination for me.
There is no such thing as a
perfect plan but from what I understand the poison is virtually untraceable. It would be as if Martin had died of a heart attack.
In the end it was a small vial with barely an ounce of clear
liquid, so small I carried it around in my pocket at all times. Incase it were to fall into the wrong hands.
It was not till the end of November , when I was certain you
never coming back, that I decided to make a trip back to New York. I believed once I was there that I would be better able to figure out how to poison Martin.
I told Joy we were going to New York because of the holiday and perhaps if things had turned out better I would not have asked her to lie to you.
Rose seemed unusually excited about the trip. She began to smile more, even Joy notice the odd change in her.
The first day we arrived in Manhattan I asked Joy to stay behind in the city the while Rose and I took a trip upstate.
You see Rose had been very honest with me about Martin. I decided wanted to do the same for her, so I took her to where I was from to Chataqua. . . to my grave. During winter the town is so quiet that it almost appeared deserted.
I still could not believe that monstrosity of a gravestone is still there but I must admit it is beautiful. I was slow perhaps even afraid to approach it. I decided not to get to close. I wish I could say the same for Rosalie
Carefully she traced her small fingers around the letters of my name and tentatively over the dates which meant nothing to her.
“Are you dead ?”, she finally asked, yet for some reason I was expecting it.
“No, I was though. . . .for a while.”
She seemed to be thinking about this for a while before speaking.
“Did you comeback for me”, she asked
“No.Not quite”
“Mommy’s father wanted me to be dead you know ?”, she said casually and continued to trace the words,”What does it mean to be dead, anyway?”
“I do not know myself. . . not anymore”
She looked around her eyes set on a park across the lake.
“You’re going to kill Mommy's father aren’t you ?.”, she finally asked
“I-“, I honselty did not have anything to say. I had never told her my intention. The small vial of poison in my pocket suddenly felt very heavy.
"How did you know ?"
She sighed, as if frustrated by something no one could understand. I gathered she wasn't going to answer my question.
“I won’t tell anyone, not even Mommy.”, she said ignoring my question, "Can I see it ?"
I don't know what came over me, in seocnds the small vial was in her delicate hands. She watched the liquid move inside the vial, fascinated her pale eyes open wide. After serveral minutes she simply handed it back to me.
Then. . .then she smiled playfully and skipped back to the car.
I drove back to the city and then as you know I “stole ” Lucie’s ashes. Once I had dropped them off at the jewelers Rosalie and I walked though the city .
I was so unnerved by her I couldn't seem to walk fast enough back to the hotel. There is truly something . . . misgiving ? About her. I forced myself to truly acknowledge her and realized she found pleasure in dis-concerning people. To keep them at a distance.
As you can imagine I absolutly despise the city; the
crowds and noise touch my nerves in a terrible way. Even though it was longer
it was a decidedly quieter to walk through Central Park.
Suddenly Rosalie stopped short in front of me, she turned and started to run her shoes slipped on the icy sidewalk and I didn’t let her get very far.
“No ! no”, she screamed trying to get away from me.
"What is the matter"
"No, leave me alone", she then bit me and broke my skin blood quickly began rising to the surface.
I felt a heavy hand on my
shoulder, with a tight grip on the girl I came face to face with Martin DeLune. His face was weathered, but his eyes were wild. I couldn't quite read his expression; shock, fear and a bit of smugness perhaps.
I thought the fates were smiling on me, all I would to do is follow him and poison him.
“I know what you’re up to you son-of –bitch”, was how he so eloqently greeted me.
“I haven’t the slightest idea as to what you are referring to Martin.”
“I know you’re the one who kidnapped my Clara, I know what you did to her you took away her beauty and left her with . . ..”, he couldn't finish
“I suppose that is all true.”
I did not disagree because nothing he said was not all together true.
“Forcing my poor daughter to raise that child all for your own gain. I guarantee you won't get away with this.”
“Do it, do it now”, Rosalie shouted her small voice breaking,"Kill him"
She slipped away from me, such a
stupid girl, Martin caught her before I did. She cried out under his tight grasp. He demanded to know what she was
talking about. Perhaps if she had just been calm she would not have fallen to
the ground.
Martin suddenly seemed concerned that someone might witness the altercation, Martin regained his compusre and straigtned himself up. Our eyes locked. Eventually I picked her up and that was when it started.
The crying.
It seemed that only Martin was able to make her do that.
I could almost feel her tears staining my coat and collar, her arms tightening around my neck. Migranes I had avoided for years suddenly came back.
“Belive me Martin, the last thing I ever wanted out of this was a child, least of all little girl”
"Please“, He spat, "I don’t know what sort of sick person you are but you and that girl better be out of this city as soon as possible or - or”
"What Martin ? I have not done anything.""Not yet you haven't. I know exaclty what you are planning. If you know what's best you would just get the hell out here and leave my family alone."
He started off in another direction when I
realized his conversation with me had not made complete sense but that would
all come later.
"Why didn't you do it ?", Rosalie asked rubbing her eyes and fully recoverred. I slipped my bleeding hand into my pocket., "He was right there"
"Patience, Angel", I quieted her.
-2-
Back to Black
That evening Joy had taken Rosalie out and I settled at the end of a darkly light yet vibrant lounge in the hotel. I had decided smoking would be my only vice but I felt the evening called for something stronger and liquid. I'm sure you understand
Quite frankly I had enough of the Rosalie and the DeLune family for the day.
I was not even close to intoxication when someone clapping behind me.
The clapping became louder as a woman sat next to me. She leaned forward into the artificial light her hands on the table as she signaled with her hands for what she wanted to drink to the bartender. As she leaned further into the light I began to recognize her.
Her eyes were dark and there was a playful smile on her very pretty and delicate features which were accented by her dark pulled back hair
“Far from home aren’t we Mrs. Locke”, I spoke first
“You remember my name ?”, she was suprised and falttered
“Your sister mentioned you often”
“Is that so.". This seemed to amuse her. "Call me Claudia.I saw what happened in the park. Everything”
“Should I be concerned ?”
“No”, she took a sip of her drink, “You should be intrigued.”
“By what ?”
“My offer”
“Offer ?”
She pressed her lips to her glass and smiled.
“ What if I told you I want you to kill my father.”
It was as if we were reading the same book but Mrs. Locke was chapters ahead of me in reasoning.
“Nonsense.”, I decided.
“Let me spell this out for you Mr. Fierro, I’m a 30 years old retired dancer with a bad knee. My husband is sweet but selfish. I need to start over. I need my daughter's inheritance or I will end up like my mother. Alone, scared and on her last penny. Or do you not know about the family's dwindling fortune ?”
“Why do you need my help to carry out such an act ? .”
“ Because of the reason my father even bothered to confront you. My father has a blood -clause in his will.”
“Meaning ?”
“ You really don't know this ?", her interested peaked she didn't realize she had the upper hand, " Most of the DeLune money is tied up in an inheritance that goes to his oldest biological grandchild. We are talking 62 milllion dollars. That''s 6 times more than the entire DeLune fortune and assests right now.”
I considered what she said before it began to make sense. Everything including why Martin had confronted me.
“I see. Technically Rosalie is his oldest biological grandchild.”
She nooded. Martin seemed to think I wanted his money.
“Now", she continued to narrate animatedly , " If my father were to die, I would instantly get the inheritance. And if you were to help me I might be prompted to split the money with you. "
“Don’t you love your father ”
“I do.That's why I'm doing this. My father had lost his way; the school is losing money, no one buys American made instruments anymore. He is divorcing my mother, living with the nanny and how he is with Clara. If this got out it would ruin the DeLune name. I want my father to die with at least his dignity. When the world or at least Rochester will at least think well of him.”
She moved closer to the bar her
glass still full and she seemed to be watching the ice melt. I didn't even have to think about it.
“I will do it”, I agreed, “If you will personally help me”
“What ? Why ? I don't want any details”, she said
“Mutually assured destruction Ms. Locke.I need to know you stand just as much of a chance as getting implicated as I do. It will ensure that we do not cross each other.”
She thought about it for a while. Touching what I assumed was her injured knee.
“Fine.”, she finally said
She reached out to shake my hand but I refused it, she pretended not to notice.
The vial of poison became heavy in pocket once again.
“Tell Me, Mrs. Locke does your father still enjoy his daily scotch ?”
"Remy Martin is his favorite, because it has his name in it", she offered with a seductive laugh.
"You should purchase a bottle and bring it to me tonight . . . if this is truly what you want."
"This is what we all want", she offered
"Are you certain?"
"Don't judge me", she said her hard facade dropping, "I'm just doing what it takes to get what I want. It's kind of a family motto."
She turned to face me, she appeared worried but determined. I decided to leave her alone with her thoughts.
-3-
I honestly did not think she would go through with it, but a few hours later there she was standing at my hotel room door. The heavy bottle of Remy-Martin in her hands.
A few drops from the vial was all it took to make the scotch lethal. For some reason I didn't dispose of the rest.
I studied Mrs. Locke while she was sitting there and staring at the now posioned bottle of scotch.I didn’t take Mrs. Locke to be naturally warm woman but she was passionate about her future that was very clear.
She picked up the half full vial, not convinced such a small amount could be the end of her father. In hindsight I should have just thrown the rest away.
"It smells nice, what is it ?", she asked
"Oleander", I answered
"Oh, what are you going to do with the rest of it ?", she attempted to be coy.
"I'm not sure."
"Should I be worried ?", she smiled.
"Of course not, Mrs. Locke."
“I see why Clara likes you”, Claudia commented kneeling so she was eye level with the poisoned bottle, her heels leaving marks in the carpet.
“Enlighten me”
“ You’re a lot like father", she said simply, " And Clara was always Daddy’s girl. Father was always very strict with himself and others. Looks like it will be his downfall”
“Don't insult me.”
“I could care a less about Clara and her daddy-issues, as long as you a man of your word.”
"I am. are you ?"
"Of course, Darling.", she answered
She picked up the bottle, tying an inviting ribbon around it and attaching a card to it.
“I’ll have this sent to Father’s apartment. Father's such a lush. He should open it when he comes back from Thanksgiving dinner. Let's see. . .The lawyers were able to process grandpa’s money in twenty-four hours so everything should be done and in my hands by next week. If you make sure no one finds out about little Rosalind.
"Rosalie", I corrected her quiety
"Oh", she stood in the door frame "What will you do with your half ?”
“It is not important. Burn it perhaps.”
This seemed to amuse her.
"Live a little. Maybe you should buy my sister a big diamond", her tone was dry
"Whatever is between your sister and I is--"
"Complicated ?", she finished though that was not the word I was looking for," My sister basically produced your ticket to 35 million dollars, get her a plasitc surgeon, a car or something ?"
"I think not", I said not really listening.
She slipped on a pair of leather gloves gripped the bottle of scotch around the neck in one hand. She would have it delivered to Martin's penthouse under the guise of being a present from a donor.
"Honestly", she said holding out her hand, "I can't trust a man who won't even shake my hand"
Reluctanly I joined her at the door and reached for her empty gloved hand. There was something behind her smile that distracted me, something about her. So much so that I didn't hear the door open and Joy walked in.
Hiding the bottle behind her Mrs. Locke smiled hiding her concern and looked from Joy to me. Finally letting her hand slip from mine.
"Good-Night", Mrs. Locke offered to no one in particular and made a speedy exit.
"I'm sorry I--", began Joy
"Forget you saw anything or anyone"
"Oh right. . . um, Rosalie would like to go to the parade tommorow is that alright ?"
"Yes. Of course. . ."
My eyes looked around the room. I realized something was missing.
"Keep and eye on her", I added.
---
Hurricaine
The next morning was Thanksgiving.
I was not raised to celebrate holidays, so I left Rose and Joy to their own devices. To my own suprise slept till late in the afternoon. There was only one red-eye flight back to London and it was leaving early that evening. I had to be out the country by that time. I thought it would be best not to be around any longer than necessary.
I had wanted to check out as soon as possible and much to my chagrin Joy was running extremely late. She did not answer any of my phone calls and I eventually found her wandering around in the hotel lobby, she was distraught
“Sir, Sir I’m so sorry.”, she approached me slowly. I noticed she was alone
“Where is Rosalie ?”, all of my attention was on her now.
“I-I don’t know we were watiting in the lounge and she saw this woman, Rosalie seemed to know her and—“
“Who was it?”
“Um, Rosalie said it was her previous nanny.They really seemed to know each other and they were talking so nicely. I turned away for just a few seconds and you know how Rosalie runs off.. . then they were both gone. I should call the police-”
"No", I said, " We need to find her. "
"We need to call the police, she's been kidnapped.”, Joy was on the verge of tears.
“No that is not necessary.", She was nervous but I know Joy will do whatever I tell her.
It seemed like Martin had a plan of his own and it involved doing away with Rosalie. Permanently.
I left Joy bewildered in the hall and called Mrs. Locke. It was past five when I called so I suppose she was at dinner becuase she never picked up.
I had memorized the home address Mrs. Locke had sent the Remy-Martin to. It was a place to at least start looking for her. .Each minute that went by I began to think the worse.
Martin's Mid-Town neighborhood was quiet, away from the holiday traffic that had made the cab drive much longer than necessary. A young blonde woman meekly
answered the door and tried to shut it, but I stepped between the door.
Her eyes were rimmed red and she appeared unnerved.
“Where is she”, I demanded.
“I’m sorry I had to take her from you. Martin said she wasn’t safe.”
“Do you believe that ?.”
"Well. . . I . . . Martin told me . . . but now I. . ."
I forced the door open and Ella stepped back and began to sweep up locks of curly black hair. The dress Rosalie had been wearing was covered in dirt and on the floor.
“What did you do ?.”
“It's not what you think. W-we brought her boys clothes and Martin cut off her hair. He said it was to protect her, it was for her own good . .”
“I need you tell me
where she is.”
“I don’t know. Martin just took her. He was so angry I think think he is going to kill her, oh God. What have I done", I was starting to lose her.
“Listen Ella, you can not tell anyone about this. After all what you have done, kidnapping a child, is a crime. Now think where would he hide her ?”
“Um, I don’t know”
“Ella, was a bottle of scotch sent here ?”
“Yes, I gave it to Martin to take with him to Rochester. I thought it might calm him down.”
That lethal bottle of scotch was sitting in the car, while your family happily ate dinner.
As I stepped outside it occurred
to me to call Mrs. Locke again.
“What”, she answered.
“Your father kidnapped Rosalie. I can’t find her.”
“That's the least of my problems he is changing his will tonight. I'm--”
“Explain”
“You must have spoked him yesterday. He is tossing out the blood-clause to prevent Rosalie from getting the money and now it goes to Clarice and her adopted daughter. Believe me it's going to go right into her idiot husbands sotfware company. Dammnit that is my money. Father's on his way to change it now”
“Where ?”
“In his office, in the city”
“He has the scotch with him.”
“Great, maybe he will drink it before they start working.”
"Or he drinks it afterwards and this was all for nothing."
There was a beat of silence as Claudia seemed to be thinking..
"Damn what if-", she started but never finished.
I hung up on her then and there, she had stopped being helpful to me.
Martin was the only one who knew where Rosalie was.
If Martin died before I found her, so did she.
She also wasn't worth 33.1 million dollars dead.
I decided Martin’s Upper East Side office was the next stop. The holiday traffic was horrid and I had to walk. It was already past 9 by the time I arrived. As I approaced the small brick high rise I realized I felt exhausted for the first time in years.
I was starting to lose my footing as I climbed the 7 cases of stairs. I just hoped Martin wasn't already dead.
Instead I found him alone and alive.
The empty bottle of Remy-Martin was sitting on his desk ,a glass with melting ice next to it.
The bastard was still alive. I just hoped I was not too late. Martin was perched over his desk writing feversily, he just barely noticed me when I closed the door.
"Derek is that you ?", he called out not looking up, "I just need your signature and we'll be all--"
“Martin where is she ?”, my voice was unsteady
He was angry but behaving calmly. He set aside the paperwork and looked up from his desk.
“I’ll let you know the moment my will is revised. My lawyer should be here any minute. That will teach you to mess with my family.”
“Tell me where she is, have you not tourtured her enough ? This isn't about money any longer.”
“You started this”, he said, “There is something about that girl that is down right evil”
"There is something downright evil about all of us."
"Sit", he instructed, "I want to know just who they hell you really are."
"I don't have time for this. Tell me where she is."
"If you want the child, you will. Now, who. are. you ?", he began to open and close the drawer on his desk.
I was capable of compromise. Martin kept his stern gaze as I took the chair across from him, slowly gathering my thoughts. Outside it had begun to snow, she could freeze to death.
"I'll tell you this Mr. DeLune", I started taking the time to light a cigarette, "I knew you father. He was a vile man as I'm sure you know. He took everything from me, and for that I despise your entire family. However, and most importantly I am the man who is going to spend the rest of his life vainly in love with your daughter. If and quite frankly when I can earn her trust again."
"Is that so ?", he laughed," You know, I don't think you have enough money for me to even allow you marry my daughter. How do you think she feel when she finds out you let her child die. It''s only getting colder."
Martin stalked towards me, the smell of scotch permeated the room. I was on my feet quickly, before I knew it I was caught it a physical struggle with Martin nearly swallowing my cigarette. Our fight knocked his desk over causing the drawers and contents to crash onto the floor , contents which included a gun.
It was in my hand before I knew it, I was not dense enough to pull the trigger, but Martin did not realize that.
"Where is she ?", I asked for the last time
He was losing, he could at least see that.
“The Rowhouses on the DeLune Academy Downtown Campus”, he finally chocked out
I stepped away from him and he struggled to get up, knocking over his empty glass of scotch.
I should have left immdedtlay but I waited. I wanted to see him die. Martin pulled himself into his chair, his face had minimal damage his breathing was labored
I watched him breathing heavely, waiting for me to leave. Suddenly I realized something.
He should be dead.
He should have been dead minutes ago.
The light scent of the oleanders was in the air the scotch had in fact been poisoned.
"What ?", he barked, "What are you waiting for ? Are you really going to shoot me", Martin challenged me.
He stepped back as I approached him taking the corrected legal papers that had landed next to him. He didn't seem defeated. He thought he would have time to draw up new ones.
Something wasn't right, something had gone terribly wrong.
Outside I stood underneath the awning and let the revised will burn in my hands and let it extinguish in the falling snow.
-4-
Even in the light of the city, it was difficult to find the construction site.The campus was quiet and deserted. The cold weather made the dirt hard and the wind blew saw dust and debris around me.
The houses were just shells and encased by a chain link fence. I stood still. waiting to hear something.
Martin would have warned her not to cry.
"Rosalie ?", I called and heard nothing.
It had not even occured to me that he might have lied to me. The tempature had continue to drop and I began to fear the worse, of what I might find.Even still I needed to find her.
The wind continued to howl and it began to carry a melody with it. I thought at first I was hearing things, then I realized it was singing. A soft small voice caught in the wind.
I followed the sound to one of the boarded up houses. It was dark and damp inside.
"Rosalie ?", I called out one final time
"I'm here", she whispered
Her voice came from below me and I noticed one of the floor boards had been hastily put together. My hands shook from the cold as I removed the floor board, revealing a whole in the floor. She was resting half asleep and shivering against an unfinished wall, her shoulder nestled against a set of mismatched screws.
She was quiet as I brought her back up. Her hair had been cut short and her eyes were red. I expected her to be afraid instead she appeared angry and shivering from the cold.
"We need to leave."I said helping her out. He skin had caught on several pieces of debris.
"No", she yelled standing up and falling over.
"I do not have time for this--"
"No, you promised. You promised you would kill him."
"Enough of this--"
"No, Papa. you lied to me. I want him dead"
"I don't want to her any more of this."
She starting running and I didn't have the strength to follow her, I did not want to follow her, but I did. I chased after here when I was a few feet away from her I slipped and fell on the ice covered sidewalk
I looked up to see her standing in the middle of the street. She was very still and I dragged myself to my knees
She seemed to be catching her breath , in the dark her light irises were incandescent. She didn't even notice as a car came speeding down the wet street.
"Rosalie", I called but it was as if she didn't hear me.
She didn't resist as I pulled her out of the middle of the street, the snow started again and I found myself on the ground again. Things were so uncertain
"I' was wrong", Rosaile said with an odd smile.
"I don't want to hear another word out of you." I yelled at her but her devilish smile never broke. There wee suddenly so many uncertainties, so many things carefully laid plans don't account for.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I doubted you . . . we can go home now. ", she whispered
She took my hand and helped me up, pulling me in the right direction I didn't understand it but that is how I knew.
That is how I knew that Martin DeLune was dead.
---
The following week we were back and England and it was as if none of it had happened
I was content that Martin DeLune's death was none of my doing. I thought that entire misjudgment behind me.
On the day of you Father's funeral I received a frantic phone call from Mrs. Locke
I didn't want to speak to her and had wanted to think the entire experince a nightmare. She didn't even wait for me to speak.
"We have a problem. They found out Father's death was not an accident."
"Mrs. Locke I. . your father was alive when I left him. Whatever killed him was not our doing"
"They arrested Clara, you have to do something."
"No I do not. I did not kill him. We did not kill him."
"You are missing the bigger picture, the inheritance will be tied up in litigation if they think it was murder or foul play."
"How would you know that ?"
"I'm married to a lawyer, for godaskes"
"Your father was alive when I left. Perhaps she did do it."
"The bigger picture", she reminded me, "We had a deal--"
I hung up on her, I was done.
Later I found Rosalie sitting by the window sill, she had been there all day.
"She's coming", was all she said
Not 12 hours later you were at my front door, and I wanted you and that child out of my house.
Naturally when Detective Rainer took your family in for questioning, Once again the first person your sister called was me.
"What”, I answered. Hoping Mrs. Locke had good news
"Oh. My.God", she said, "Do you know where I am ? I'm in Jail because Clara is probabaly off with you. You might be right about Clara--"“I don’t care I told you never to call me—“
"Aren't you worried. I mean what we did, attempted murder is a crime you know. I don't care what it takes find out what Clara knows what she is planning and stop her."
“Do not worry—“
"If I go down, so do you. Find out what she knows and get her the hell back here so I can go home. Or so help me God I will turn on you so fast--"
“Everything will be fine, do not even think about crossing me.”
And she didn't cross me.
True, Mrs. Locke and I weren't entirely responsible for Martin's death but there are far to many moving pieces to implicate us.
That was when Mrs. Locke came up with part two of our plan, Convincing you to marry me, to trust me. You were cleary suspicous and when you brazendly accused me of mudering you father I was concerned. Until I now I could never be entirely sure of what you knew.
Which I now see is nothing
I must give Mrs. Locke credit. She played her part perfectly convincing you and your family to go along with this marriage, for the sake of answers. I must give it to Mrs. Locke. . . she is quite the performer.
---
" . . .And there it is", he opened his eyes, "The truth"
My lips tightened and I thought of how Claudia had behaved at dinner and how unsuprised she was to see Rosalie.
There was a sharp glint and I noticed a small gold key in his hand. I watched as it unlocked the antique end table by his chair. I was rendered speachless. My lips opened but nothing came out.
He reached into the drawer and pulled out a white porcelain box, with faded light blue violets painted on it
It was a music box
I looked up confused, still unable to speak from what was anger and confusion.
"This", he explained setting the box infront me, "What is inside. Is the only proof that the one who let Martin DeLune die. . . was you."
I stood up quickly reaching for the box but I was unable to pry it open. I let it fall from my hands and onto the hardwood floor.
The paint chipped but the box stayed in tact. It was unbreakable
"What is in here?", I managed.
"That is for me to know.", he said setting the box on the end table, " I don't think you'll be leaving tonight Ms. DeLune. This time you really will be mine forever"
I stared at the box, if he wanted he could end this here and now.
So this is what being blackmailed felt like.
A/N : Anyone else sensing something between Fierro and Claudia. Don't worry it's harmless. . . or is it ?