The weather remained pleasantly warm, for late September, as Matt trudged towards his destination. He laid each of the two wreaths in their respective positions. Bending still caused him a problem.
“This is my way of saying sorry. I’ve been back for weeks and not been to see you. There was so much I had to do.”
He waited for the imaginary response.
“A lot has happened. The good news is that I’ve decided to stay. That should improve your mood, Jack.”
He looked for circling seagulls or other birds, checking no unwanted deposits would be falling in his direction.
“I guess when it comes down to it, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Anyway, how could I leave you both? I mean, who else do I have to talk too?”
A gust of wind brought an unexpected chill. Matt shivered for a moment in the flurry of cold that had descended upon him. The change in the surrounding air temperature was eerie, as if the spirits of his friends had suddenly taken flight from the earth. Matt waited a while for the atmosphere to return to normality. It didn’t, causing him to retreat from his position with unusual speed. The groundkeeper tipped his hat as Matt passed by. A quick glance revealed the area around the grave he had asked the man to upkeep was in pristine condition. He shivered once more. If he didn’t know better, it felt like the spirits were chasing him away.
Exiting the gate, Matt almost walked straight into one of the two black SUV vehicles parked outside. The windows had been blacked out. A door opened. A tall woman in a pristine business suit stood before him. She looked radiant, in full bloom.
“Catherine? What brings you halfway across the world?”
“Horton Priest,” she said.
Matt thought for a moment.
“Oh yeah, isn’t he the new reporter at the New York Times who broke the story on the worldwide conspiracy to decimate numbers of humans on the planet?”
“I am trying to determine how he came into possession of such information.”
“You must have a leak,” said Matt.
Her subsequent stare was uninviting.
“The files show he worked the Vancouver area for a short time.”
“Yes. I met him once. He introduced himself at my dinner table at The Keg. Said he wanted to do a story on me. I found him to be odious and sent him packing.”
“And you have never seen him since?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I gave you everything in my possession at the time, as per the deal.”
“At the time?” she said quizzically.
He tried not to smile. A wisp of a grin crossed her lips.
“I spoke to the driver yesterday, the one who picked you up in St Wolfgang. He told me he saw you post a package before entering the car.”
Matt shrugged.
“My insurance was due.”
Her gaze hardened.
“Some people may conclude you had never intended to keep to any agreement. That you had planned to deliberately endure pain in order to mislead.”
Matt was sure he gulped involuntarily.
“Bit of a stretch though.”
She said nothing. Catherine turned and used one of her long fingers to beckon someone out of the other SUV. Matt wasn’t sure what to expect. A familiar male shape stepped out into the open.
“Will requires some work with which to occupy his time,” said Catherine. “I trust you will be able to accommodate him, given your physical condition.”
Matt looked to Catherine, wary of her true intent.
“I don’t need the help. Thank you all the same,” he said.
“This was not a request.”
Catherine turned and re-entered the SUV. She closed the door and lowered the blackened window.
“Horton Priest is to be charged with tax evasion,” she said. “The penalty is severe.”
Matt considered his response.
“Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy,” he said. “Life could be a little complicated for you now though, with just about every investigative journalist on the planet on your case.”
“The only names they have are of dead people,” she said. “It will not take long for their avenues of investigation to run cold. If there are no living conspirators then there can be no conspiracy.”
She was right. Now Scurrelli was dead, all the original group members had perished. Anyone planning to follow the trail would hit a dead end. He wondered if this is what she had intended all along. In one stroke the hawks from the midst of her secret grouping had been removed, consolidating her own power base in the process. If she were indeed that clever then Matt had proved to be an effective, if unwitting, accomplice to her strategy.
The true identities of those behind the Milieu conspiracy remained in obscurity. He no longer deemed it important, for he now regarded his adversaries in a different light. Matt had come to understand they were not the bespoke, evil villains he first believed. Rather, he saw them as fearful guardians of a vulnerable and defenceless planet; subjected to constant rape and pillage. Something had to give.
“Could be years though,” said Matt.
He noticed the lines around her eyes threaten to unleash a broad smile.
“We shall not meet again,” she replied.
The blackened window began to rise.
“Catherine?”
The window’s progress halted. He stepped closer, to be out of earshot of Will.
“Do you intend to reveal the contents of the conversation with the driver?” he asked.
Her facial expression responded with what people might describe as a knowing smile; except he didn’t know what it meant. Matt hated it when he couldn’t read into the minds of others.
“Will has something to give you,” she said.
The statement filled him with trepidation. Matt’s thoughts turned to the woods in Austria, where Will made a dramatic appearance to deliver a gift from Catherine to Hank Scurrelli. Before he could respond, the window closed and the SUV was gone.
“It’s great to be back in Victoria,” said Will, sidling up to join him. “I’m really looking forward to getting back to work at the jetty.”
“Catherine said you had something to give to me.”
“In the car,” said Will.
Matt could feel his stomach turn, convinced of what he was about to receive.
“If it is okay, I’m going to shoot off,” said Will, about to re-enter the vehicle. “I’m taking Jenna to the movies.”
Will dived back in to the SUV. Matt heard two doors close and the machine pulled away. It was only after the vehicle had started down the road his brain registered the fact a figure had been left behind.
He looked at the hesitant frame and smiled, raising his arms to allow her to fall into his warm hug. They embraced for what felt like an eternity.
“I was scared,” she finally said.
He kissed at the raven hair of her head.
“You don’t have to be scared anymore,” he whispered. “Not for as long as you’re here. That is, if you want to stay in Victoria.”
“Yes. Yes, I do,” she whispered back.
They returned to their quiet embrace. He breathed in the scent of her perfume and stroked gently at her hair.
“We have lost,” she said.
He could see how she might think that.
“No. A score draw I reckon, though we’ve been substituted from the game. Some other team is going to have to take the field of play.”
Matt knew he’d forced a delay. For how long, he couldn’t be sure. She squeezed his body hard and he groaned.
“Please. Not so hard, Gratia,” he said.
He felt the muscles of her face break into a smile against his shoulder.
“I am Gratia Fuchs no longer,” she said, fumbling into her shoulder bag. “It is a condition of my release.”
The open passport was held up to his eyes.
“It was the obvious choice,” she said.
Her accompanying smile was differe
nt from normal. For the first time, he could read into her Guinness eyes. The door was fully ajar.
“Obvious,” he agreed. “Welcome to your brand new life, Grace.”
Published by Milieu Publishing,
45 Barrasford Road,
Newton Hall,
Durham,
DH1 5NB
Copyright © Malcolm Franks
Read the prequel;
The Milieu Principle
Reaching the brow of the second to last hill he peered into the night through the windscreen and saw the two distant yellow beams turn onto the narrow road he was hurtling along; cutting through the blackness like searchlights in an air raid, piercing the dark sky in search of prey. He estimated they were about a mile away and moving too quickly along the winding country lane to belong to a local. They always drove carefully. He quickly concluded it must be the third unit racing towards him, intent on cutting off his escape.
There were no turnings off this hilly, winding road and the sudden realisation dawned on him that he’d been outsmarted. The cars behind had not been chasing him. They were herding him toward the onrushing vehicle.
If he slowed or stopped, his pursuers would soon catch up. If he kept going he would drive straight into the path of the fast approaching car.
He was trapped.
ISBN 978-0-9566944-0-9
Milieu Dawn Page 40