Claude
He reeled from the next blow, delivered by someone else who had come up behind him but Claude was agile on his toes. Ignoring the pain radiating through his arm, he swung around, the knife in his hand, the one he had grabbed from the floor. With a broad sweep, he made it clear that he was no coward, the knife was his weapon and with a snarl, he lunged suddenly at his opponent, a skinny man with a goatee and thinning hair. The man yelped as Claude’s blade sliced through his flesh. At the same time, Hank appeared behind him and dealt the attacker a blow that sent him to the ground. Castle had also finished overpowering the men who had been futilely attempting to subdue him, With a vicious kick at the man who had been trying to reach for a glass on the counter to attack him, Claude immobilised him.
Castle came closer, breathing heavily, blood trickling down his forehead.
‘Sir,’ for he insisted on addressing Claude as Sir, ‘The Capo is on his way.’ Claude grinned wickedly, eyes dancing although his arm hurt like hell. He grinned as he looked at the bodies strewn on the floor, kicking out at the man who had come at him first.
“Let’s ask Beauty here a couple of questions, eh?’ he said and Castle hauled him to his feet at once. The fat man was sweating, breathing heavily and his eyes were slits of fear.
He began to shake his head in denial.
“So who paid you, lovely?’ snarled Claude, suddenly looking dangerous, an almost feral quality in his cold eyes that glowed grey, a cold murderous grey.
Most of the patrons’ had rushed out in the melee; the few who remained were in various stages of consciousness. The five men on the floor were out cold. Their companions had conveniently fled.
Claude moved closer; he could smell the fear on the man. He took out a knife, the one he always carried on his person as he said, softly,’ Come on sweetie, or I might do more than carve my name on your face…’
The man was shuddering with fright. All traces of bravado had vanished from his countenance; his grey visage was grey with fear. He could see the dispassionate way Claude was wielding the knife and knew the younger man was no amateur. He meant business.
Helpless with fear, the man shook his head weakly.
The sudden stench of urine filled the air and Claude sighed, disgusted.
“Ahhh…you just pis*ed yourself, didn’t you, you fat, ugly. *****?’
He used a particularly coarse and vulgar expletive. Hank, brandishing his gun openly now, kept guard as Castle held the man imprisoned with his arms behind his back. Claude, impervious to the blood staining his jacket now, ignoring the throbbing pain in his arm, stepped even closer and he pressed the tip of the sharp Swiss blade into the man’s neck, relishing the feel of the fat folds quivering as he pressed it just enough to make the thug feel the pain.
And then Hank was shouting as a masked man threw open the door and began to fire. They crashed to the floor as Hank whipped around, returning fire. The sound of a bike revving up and shooting off down the rain-drenched roads was the last sound they heard as they turned to assess the damage.
Shielded by the body of the fat man in front of him, Claude had not been hit but Castle was groaning, his chest rapidly darkening with blood. Claude vainly tried to staunch the flow of blood as he cried hoarsely,
“Get the Capo.”
Hank, who had narrowly missed a bullet, replied tightly,
“Capo’s on the way.’ The man they had been holding prisoner had been hit and he was gasping, as the blood bubbled out of the gunshot wounds on his chest.
Claude smote his forehead but the man was desperately trying to say something and he strained his ears to listen.
‘I…’the man gasped,’ I…’ And then he made a crude drawing of the cross with his hand before he slumped in death.
*
Beston
It was Tony Beston who had been alerted by Philippe, who finally managed to trace the bike that Paddy had been riding on. They found it, buried halfway down the slope, hidden beneath the leaves in the woods. It was a few miles from the St Claire mansion.
The rain was falling now in earnest as the men combed the area, alerted to the fact that the youth had been seen riding this way, desperately trying to get back to the safety of his home when the accident had happened. Skid marks were barely visible as the rain had caused them to disappear. But the place where the bike had slammed into a tree was apparent.
With his hands on hips, the rainwater trickling down his craggy, leathered features, Tony Beston stood, calculating how the body of the youth riding the bike might have been flung if it had been travelling at the terrific speed that the Capo had told him about.
He knew that there was a gorge, not a deep one, but a fairly steep drop away from the road, nestled among eh trees. Only a large group of people, trained to scout in the area with dogs, could possibly discover anything there. He did not waste any time. Pulling out his phone, he called the Boss for permission to scour the place.
*
Proserpina
Lucien Delano jerked his chin at Schwartz, and the men strode to the study. Something was happening. I hurried after my husband before he closeted himself in his study and remained inaccessible.
“Lucien,’ I panted, grabbing his arm to detain him.
He stopped and turned, fixing me with an impatient look.
“What is it, woman?’ he asked but his eyes were warm with desire as they touched on my lips, dropping further to my breasts and I felt the familiar weakness flood me. But I persisted,
“Paddy?’, I said softly, licking my suddenly dry lips and unconsciously drawing his attention to my mouth
He turned to me, forcing me back against the wall in the corridor.
“Woman.’ he ground out, the voice of a man who was grappling with his own demons. And I threw my arms around his neck, resting my head on his chest as I fought to control my emotions.
His voice softer, he growled,
“We are looking for him.’ And he tipped my chin, to drop a fierce kiss on my parted lips before he moved away.
I stood, my fingers on my bruised mouth, watching him as he entered the room without a backward glance, along with Schwartz and Gaston’s ever-present men, the door closing firmly behind them with a loud click. A slight sense of reassurance swept over me but I could not shake off the sinking feeling in my heart.
Paddy was in danger.