Lucien
The Mafia Don strode into the hospital, his face set and cold. His men flanked him, trotting along to keep pace. The Boss was furious and they knew that heads would roll before the night was out. The senior doctors were there, looking white-faced, unhappy and frightened. When Lucien St Claire scowled, they fell over themselves to keep him happy. And now, he was like a raging bull.
‘The f*ck did the woman get inside?’ he roared and the chief doctor quailed before him. Claude was in the hospital. He had required around thirteen stitches. Lucien had visited his son, a perfunctory visit but Claude had been sedated as well and had not been aware of his father standing over him, dark face brooding as he looked down at his son.
Savagely, he rounded on the doctor again and the man trembled as he said,
“She… she… managed to get into the nursing bay. Must have donned a uniform.’ he looked at the ground as he spoke fumbling for words to explain his incompetence, too scared to meet the Don’s fierce, impaling look.
*
They had discovered that one of the uniforms was missing, he explained, along with the identity card. One of the staff members, the nurse who was supposed to be on duty that night, had been found, drugged and unconscious, in a closed broom cupboard which would only have been opened the next morning.
But it was only when they examined the surveillance cameras that they realised that a woman had entered the hospital along with the cleaning crew. She had not left the building. Instead, a nurse had emerged from the room where the woman had last been seen entering.
But Antony Beston with his team and the sophisticated machinery at their disposal had already managed to identify the woman who had attempted to kill Paddy.
An ex-Mossad agent who was now a mercenary and a highly skilled assassin at that.
Paval had raised the stakes.
Lucien smote the door and asked himself the same question that his son Piers had asked him earlier that evening, What exactly had Paddy stumbled upon?
*
Paddy had been shifted to the Intensive Care unit. Lucien had had the guards doubled. The men who had been responsible for allowing the fake nurse to enter had been taken off duty immediately. No one wanted to know what had happened to them.
Paddy had been operated on. His vitals were intact but he was still in a coma. the doctors reckoned privately that the boy would never regain consciousness. But no one had the courage to tell Lucien St Claire.
*
Maja
Something awful had happened. She had guessed at it when she saw the Don leave. And when the twins returned to the dining table, their sombre faces spoke volumes. Maja had helped them to shepherd the younger children to bed as Proserpina had seemed to be too weary and broken to do anything.
As she shut the door and hugged Maddie, listening to the calming sound of her daughter’s gentle snores, Maja sent up a silent prayer for the people who had welcomed her and her children so warmly into their fold.
*
Melissa
The blonde woman rushed up the steps to the house, without waiting for the car to come to a full halt.
Melissa had heard about what had happened; her husband, Tristan Lord had told her tersely but he had only given her the scantiest of details. Melissa had immediately insisted on going to her friend. She did not want Proserpina to be worried at such a time. Now, her blonde hair in an untidy bun, she entered the house, making straight for the living room.
Her green eyes widened with apprehension when she saw Proserpina St Claire sitting on a couch in the living room. Ria looked up, relieved to see Melissa who practically ran to her friend. The younger children were sitting around, looking uncertain. Piers had already left for the hospital. Camille was hovering about and so was Beatrice but the change in the atmosphere was almost palpable when Melissa entered. Relief was written large on their drawn expressions. Here was someone who could handle Proserpina.
“Proserpina!’ she said and sank onto the couch beside her friend. Proserpina looked exhausted and strained. Her normally cheerful face was lined with fatigue and worry.
She seemed to grow limp in Melissa’s arms and the older woman snapped at Ria in alarm,
“Has your Mumma eaten anything?’
Ria nodded and Beatrice shuffled in, a hot drink in hand, aromatic and comforting.
“Drink this up,’ commanded Melissa and Proserpina obeyed her wearily. Beatrice and Melissa exchanged glances with Ria. Proserpina seemed defeated, so very unlike her.
She had been informed about what had happened and it was as though the life had drained out of her. She adored Paddy and the thought of the poor youngster battling for his life made her faint with concern. Besides, there was Claude and his penchant for getting attacked was also causing her a lot of stress.
Beatrice nodded conspiratorially.
‘A wee something to make her sleep.” she said and Proserpina sighed, leaning on Melissa’s shoulder. A little while later, Ria led her mother out and Melissa helped her to bed.
But Proserpina was plagued with worry and she lay, tossing and turning, whimpering in her sleep fitfully.
*
Cole
“I want to meet my father!’ he shouted as Danielle entered the small room where he was being held. He had not been allowed out of the room and now he was getting furious.
‘Didn’t you hear me, you fu*king bi*ch?’, he screamed, spittle flying, his greasy hair, lank with sweat, bobbing as he stormed at the woman who stood in the doorway, blowing a cloud of smoke into his face nonchalantly.
“YOUR father?’ she said in a snide tone and he tensed. Something was definitely off.
But Cole was not one to stop when he sensed danger. He was furious and beyond thinking clearly. He had not seen the sunlight now for weeks or so it seemed to him . All he saw was this cold bi*ch who seemed to take a particular delight in taunting him. Now she repeated, with a sly smile spreading over her face, slowly,
“YOUR father?’
And then, taking another step into the room she said, ‘Now that’s rich. He isn’t in a position to meet anyone, boyo.’
And she gave a throaty chuckle which was accentuated by her husky smoker’s voice.
Cole frowned. What was the silly cow talking about?
She said in a louder voice,
“Your father is in no position to speak to anyone, Cole big boy. He has been dead for some time now.’
Cole stared at her, the words not making sense in his crazed brain.
“What the f*ck are you saying, you stupid c*nt?’ he yelled.
She blew a smoke ring coolly and said in a hard tone,
‘Someone has been taking you for a fu*king ride, kid. Cos the Boss ain’t your Daddy.’
Cole shook his head and opened his mouth to scream at her although his senses told him she was not lying.
“Your father was the man they called Shark. A low-lying rat and a mean one at that.’
She puffed at her cigar, rocking on her heels as she watched him, enjoying the thrill of having taken him by surprise.
“Your mother was Shark’s prize wh*re. Ask me. I should know. ‘
Cole shook his head dumbly but the ring of truth in her voice was loud and clear.
“And Bethany ran away after he knocked her up. ‘
She sneered, coming closer, her hard eyes boring into him as she said in a low voice,
‘He was shot down like the dog he was, by Lucien Delano.”
*
Hila
She held the burner phone in her hand and spoke in a clear voice, unshaken by the rage she could feel carrying over on the phone.
She had just informed Paval that she had not been able to kill the youth.
The Monk had been senseless with anger.
“You failed?’ he had said in a voice trembling with rage. Hila had been cool as she replied,
“Some fellow turned up. Unexpectedly.’
A memory of the grey, wolf-like gaze that had sliced through her came back and she flinched. Just another young man, she told herself fiercely, refusing to cave into the feeling of quick weakness that swept through her veins.
The Monk had not said anything for a while but she could hear him taking deep breaths as he tried to calm himself.
And then, his voice brittle but cold went on,
“I have already transferred the money. You need to do your job …’ She cut him off rudely. Hila did not cower before anyone and this was, after all, just another client. She was a cold-blooded murderer and did not need to grovel before him.
“I have told you that I will do it.’ she snapped, resenting his authoritative tone, hating herself for what she had become.
Silence and then the Monk’s cold voice came over the line, rasping,
‘Make sure you do it.’
He cut the call abruptly and Hila took a deep breath. then she stepped out onto the road, huddling into her jacket, her hood pulled low over her head. Stepping out, she turned a full circle, taking in the dense forest edging the road, the empty road and the solitary lamp ahead.
Hila had been well trained; she glanced around, reading the place, alert for any sign that she was being watched. Satisfied that no one was around, she picked up her pace and walked purposefully to the small bar that was closing and where a small group of people stood about, talking boisterously.
Students, she thought.
Tossing the phone into the bushes, she walked away towards the bus stop, effectively blending in with a small group of students who were leaving the bar, laughing and chattering.
*
Paddy
He was in a place where he could dimly hear voices.
Agitated voices.
The swishing of doors.
Dimly, he made out the sound of his brother and dearest friend, Claude.
He tried to move but the pain was intense. He wanted to tell Claude about the pen drive but he could not frame the words. His last thoughts before sinking into a welcome darkness were of Proserpina, his Mumma and he sighed tiredly