Ava shrugged, casting a brief glance to her brother. “Well, we have, thanks to you, made enough to retire and invest in other ventures. I do not speak for Bern, but as far as I am concerned, I am weary of the ups and downs of the acquisition business.”
Bernard appeared unperturbed. “You will miss the thrill.”
“I am done with the thrill,” she defended plainly, not bothering to afford her brother eye contact. “Some good things only last as long as they stay safe and I have triggered too many traps in the last few years to keep risking getting my hide worn,” she cocked her head, “so to speak.”
Another loud vibration came from Purdue’s pocket, where he had stored his phone in all the excitement of the delivery. “Oh, shit, I forgot,” he muttered, jumping slightly at the sudden sensation. “Excuse me.”
He checked the message Nina had sent, containing yet another picture of the artifact Brian gave her for safekeeping while the doctor attended to him. At a first glance the sheath held no special appearance or charm, but as he swept the screen to the other photographs, Purdue found the piece oddly engaging. He recalled Nina’s account, but did not repeat it to his guests. Instead, he saw the reminder of the photo as uncanny serendipity.
“Wait a minute,” he said, smiling at Ava and Bernard, “your company also does appraisals, do you not?”
“We do,” Bernard replied quickly, before his sister could dilute their skillset with what he deemed emotional outbursts. “Why? Is there something you need to have evaluated?”
Purdue grinned. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
“I thought we were going to wean ourselves from the business, Bern,” Ava said with a fake smile.
“So?” he scoffed. “Weaning is a gradual process and we have only just started weaning, Ava.”
Purdue could sense the tension between them, but he ignored it, for Nina’s sake. He passed the phone along to Bernard with Nina’s photographs on display, watching the dark clad man’s reaction closely as he leaned forward on the table. To Purdue’s surprise, Bernard’s expression turned from smug to stunned, but the shift was practically imperceptible.
“See anything worth talking about there?” Purdue smiled, expecting a scoff. Charles may not have thought so, but the master of Wrichtishousis was a better judge of character than he got credit for. A scoff was exactly what he got from the illuminated expert, but he knew it was a bluff.
“Ah, well, it is not exactly the Holy Grail,” Bernard sighed, “but I would say it is worth looking into.” Without a glance at his sister, Bernard looked up at Purdue. “Of course, I would have to see it in person before I can really valuate it. Can you get it to my office? Or I can come here, if you want to arrange a meeting?”
“Bernard,” Ava pressed politely, but Bernard ignored her completely. Purdue did not condone Bernard’s snubbing, but even the most coquettish invitation from a woman could not entice him like the prospect of conquering a lost historical treasure. He too, ignored Ava’s insistence to learn more about the possibilities held by the photographed relic.
“I do not see why not. First, of course, I would have to procure the item,” Purdue said.
“Who has it now?” Bernard asked casually.
Ava was furious at being undermined like this. She poured more Armagnac and chugged it down in fury, but she held her tongue and listened to their discussion.
“Actually, I do not know. A close friend of mine asked me to give her some input on the piece, but honestly, I have no idea where she acquired it…or whether she has,” Purdue explained roughly. On his part, he also kept his answers ambiguous until he knew more.
“A credible friend?” Bernard asked snidely, inferring that Purdue did not keep company with true experts.
“Yes, in fact. She is a well-respected historian with over a decade in high-end advisory positions, including university lectures conducted all over the world. Maybe you have heard of her. One Dr. Nina Gould.”
Bernard’s eyes froze in place for a moment. “Alright, then,” he sighed. “Call me when you have it here and I will come by. It would be great to meet Dr. Gould as well, so please feel free to invite her to join us.”
“Talk about serendipity!” Purdue raved. “I have invited her for drinks tomorrow, actually. If that is not kismet, I don’t know what is.”
“Perfect!” Bernard smiled, baring his teeth for the first time. “It is a date!”
Ava rolled her eyes and pursed her lips, seething at both men. She had heard of Dr. Gould before, mostly from colleagues in the business or via David Purdue’s celebrity. Expeditions he arranged and led usually consisted of several experts and Nina Gould was a permanent feature among them.
“Aw well, since the two of you are getting all chummy, I think I shall call ‘n taxi and head home,” Ava announced. She gathered up her coat and took up the leather binder she had brought along containing the collection documents, provenances and receipts.
“Nonsense!” Purdue protested, suddenly painfully aware of his misdemeanor. “Please stay for a while, my dear.”
Already seasoned with alcohol and rejection, she flashed Purdue a resenting smirk. “No, thank you. I have a personal life to attend to, you know.” She sneered at her brother, “Arrangements to make and so on.”
“Oh, come now, Ava,” Purdue coaxed. “At least allow my driver to take you home then. Please. Do join us tomorrow evening.”
Pretending to be hardheaded at first, Ava finally yielded to Purdue’s offer of being chauffeured home.
“Charles, can you summon Harold with the town car, please?” Purdue asked his butler.
“Certainly, sir,” Charles affirmed. Purdue was rushing after the hastened steps of the beautiful woman he unintentionally jilted in conversation, his hand barely reaching the small of her back as he accompanied her. “Let me walk you to the car.” Gracefully, he lifted an umbrella from the pewter container in passing and offered it to her.
Bernard stayed behind, watching the whipped billionaire grovel after his sister. He smiled. As soon as Purdue and Ava vanished around the doorway, exiting the mansion into the rain, he pulled out his cell phone and hastily dialed a number on speed dial.
“Hello!” he greeted under his breath.
“You know you are not supposed to call me today,” the man on the other side of the line warned.
“I know the rules, dammit, but this could not wait. You will not believe what I came upon!” he bragged, playing with a priceless platinum absinthe spoon between his fingers.
“A few ounces of respect for superiors?” came the sarcastic answer, but Bernard Somerset’s skin was thicker than pig shit on a rhino hide.
“Guess again,” he told the clearly annoyed man. “I just saw a picture of a missing piece from…wait for it…the infamous Hall Collection!”
At once, Bernard finally got the desired effect. “What?” the man exclaimed. “Where? Do you have it in your possession?”
“No, but I know who does,” Bernard grinned. His eyes stayed glued to the open door and the darkening evening beyond, making sure to see Purdue when he returned. “You know, I bet you that it is some poor sod who scored from the Hall robbery that night, trying to fence this stuff.”
“Are you sure it is from the Hall collection?” the man asked urgently.
“Positive. This looks like one of the Hall-Bormann relics from World War II. Bloody amateurs. I am surprised she was not stupid enough to take it to a pawn shop!” Bernard chuckled coldly.
“Funny you should make that precise remark, Somerset,” the man said. “That is exactly what happened here today. We are at Alan Silver’s pawn shop right now as we speak, Bernard, appraising a few items brought in for him to fence.”
Blood-curdling screams echoed in the background, making even the cold-hearted Bernard grimace. He listened, but could not make out anything the pleading victim was saying through his coughing and blood spitting.
“Man, I cannot believe anyone is that stupid,” Bernard stammered as h
is arrogance suddenly melted in the sight of realization. He had neglected to remember how cruel the man was.
“So, you are telling me that a sheath from the Hall hoard is out there somewhere?” he asked Bernard.
“Aye, saw it with my own eyes on a cell phone picture,” Bernard whispered.
“That means that my new best friend here has, in fact, not declared all his loot to us after all!” the man shouted gravely into the room from where the screams had come. “Could it be that he and you, Silver, have a separate deal on the side?” the man thundered at the pleading men in his company.
Bernard cringed for the victims’ sakes, almost feeling sorry for them as he listened to Major Rian wreak hell upon them on the other side of the phone line. The major took a moment and spoke directly to Bernard once more. “Get the sheath at all costs, Somerset! Or you will be the next ornament in my billiards room.”
“I will, sir,” Bernard promised. “Tomorrow I will meet the famous Dr. Nina Gould. If she does not bring the scabbard, the great Wrichtishousis will become Edinburgh’s Taj Mahal.”
15
Meet the Callany’s
Nina drove as fast as she could while the anxious boy directed her to his home. Dr. Le Roux had explicitly advised against the boy leaving, but Nina explained the situation at home which would give rise to more problems.
“More problems than having had a deadly charge ravage him?” the doctor had gasped.
Nina ran the dialogue back in her head as she drove. Understanding the doctor’s concern entirely, she still had to defend the child’s appeal to be home before his grandfather arrived from work. Eventually, Dr. Le Roux had to allow Brian to leave, but she strongly reiterated her disagreement with the decision. Nina had taken full responsibility and signed a release form indemnifying Dr. Le Roux, although the doctor thought it was ludicrous.
“Hurry, Miss Nina,” Brian urged. “It is almost 5 p.m.” Tightly he clutched the big leather sheath against his chest, still looking lightheaded from his injury. Nina could not believe that she actually played into this, but for some reason she knew that she should do what Brian needed her to do – to trust him.
“This is totally unlike me to allow this, I will have you know, young man,” she moaned.
“I know, Miss,” he replied, sounding wise beyond his years. “But I am not dead, see? As long as I am not dead, I have no excuse.” The child’s voice sounded morose and lost, evoking a deep sense of maternal protectiveness from the normally juvenile-challenged historian. Still, should anyone ask Nina to explain her actions, she was convinced that she would have no idea how to justify them.
“Here Miss Nina,” Brian suddenly pointed to the humble three-bedroom house with the almost garden full of mongrel plants and un-weeded gravel. The only thing pretty was the wooden screen with the thick ivy cover that parted the side driveway from the front of the yard. Brian smiled for the first time, and it cheered Nina to see his sweet face beaming.
“What?” she smiled.
“Grandpa’s car is not in the drive, Miss!” he sang. “If we hurry up I can get inside and put his scabbard back before he even knows it is gone.”
“That is fantastic, but have you thought of what your poor mother and grandmother are going to think the moment they see you in a hospital gown and shoe soles melted? You know, Brian, there are more important things than that sheath.”
“No, Miss. You don’t know grandpa when he gets angry,” Brian said seriously, shaking his head and stretching his eyes.
“You would rather be dead than to be caught having taken this thing?” she gasped, flipping her finger under the edge of the scabbard with disdain. The flick of her hand shoved the sheath, and as it moved, one of the threads lit up. With no sunshine, there could be no glare. Nina looked twice, in time only to see the sheen gradually fade. Ethereal in nature, the glow had emitted a strange energy, Nina thought, giving credence to her fasciation with the artifact.
‘Am I seeing things?’ she wondered. ‘Could it be a residual from the electric charge from the lightning bolt still lingering in that strange thread?’
Brian practically leapt from the car before she stopped completely.
“Wait! Wait!” Nina cried. “I have to go in with you to explain to your family.”
“No time, Miss Nina. They cannot see me with the sheath either, remember? I have to return it quickly, before they see!” he protested.
Nina sank to her haunches and clasped her hands around Brian’s upper arms. “Now you listen to me. I do not know why you are so terrified of your own family, laddie, but I am not taking this shit anymore. Look, I am an adult from your school,” she reminded him in a low, slow tone while her brown, hellfire eyes darted between his. “Your family will take my word and accept my excuses that I helped you when you were injured after school. They will not kill you for taking a goddamn sheath,” Nina raised her voice into an impatient growl, “because they will be too happy that their little boy is alive!”
The front door creaked open as a clap of thunder started Nina and Brian, both already high-strung from a very trying afternoon. Through the door poked a head. Nina looked up at the scowling middle-aged lady and cleared her throat. The woman’s face sank into despair and her mouth opened to say something, but Nina quickly rose to her feet and engaged her.
“Mrs. Callany?” she asked briskly, before continuing. “I am Dr. Nina Gould, from the school? Please do not fret. Brian is okay.”
“Jesus Christ, Beany!” the woman exclaimed, ignoring Nina and her opening speech. “What happened to you? Are you feeling alright, Beany?” She moved as fast as she could to collect the boy, but her frail, thin frame was infirm and shaky.
“Let me help you,” Nina offered. She held the woman’s arm for support. “Brian is fine. We have been to the hospital and he was examined by a doctor.”
“What happened?” the concerned grandmother wailed, finally paying attention to the pretty stranger who brought her grandson home. “This looks like he was on fire!”
Brian unlatched from his grandmother’s hand and without a word, he shot into the house to replace the scabbard. Nina helped Mrs. Sue Callany into the house, electing to explain all of it on the way in. As she recounted the whole debacle to Brian’s grandmother, the boy’s mother joined them from the small room the ladies used as a craft room for their needlework. Pamela was a very good-looking young woman, but not too smart.
“What?” Pam exclaimed hysterically. “Lightning? Where is he?”
“No, he is fine, Pam,” Sue consoled. “I saw him run into the bathroom just now, love. He is fine. He is fine.”
“How can he be fine after being struck by lightning?” Pam ranted, looking at Nina with a bewildered frown. She stopped at the mouth of the corridor and saw that the bathroom door was shut. “Beany? Beany, are you alright, baby?”
“Aye mom!” came the boy’s cry from the other side of the door, accompanied by a ruckus of flushing and taps opening. What his mother did not know was that, through the bathroom floor, there was an access hole to the crawlspace beneath the house. She was relieved to hear his voice and it calmed her for the moment.
“Well, hurry up so we can have a look at you!” she ordered. The tall, slender Pam rushed down the corridor to speak to Nina at the table where she sat with Sue. “Sorry, but who are you again?”
Sue looked impressed. “This is Dr. Gould, Pam.”
“Nina,” Nina corrected with a smile. “I am a part-time advisor to Miss April at Gracewill for the week. History Week, they call it.”
“She was the one that took Beany to hospital, love,” Sue interjected.
“Aye, but he was miraculously not hurt too badly,” Nina reported to the boy’s worried mum. She covered for Brian’s mission to replace the scabbard, so she took her time explaining to give him enough time. “He only suffered a few minor scratches and some electrolyte imbalance, which they treated. Other than that, he is in fine form.”
Pam looked suspicious. “B
ut, isn’t that like, impossible?”
“Unlikely, but not impossible,” replied Nina, hugging her rapidly cooling cup of coffee. “I guess he was just extremely lucky to have survived this with almost no repercussions.”
“And you know this because you are a doctor?” Pam pressed. Nina hoped that Pam’s assumption was the product of minor miscommunication. If not, she was dumber than dirt.
“I hold a doctorate in Modern History, so…I am not a medical doctor,” Nina reiterated, trying not to laugh. The house made her feel claustrophobic and a little sick. Neat and humble, it seemed to remain dark even with the lights on. Something made it a miserable place, but she could not figure out what. All she knew was that it sounded like bad sewer pipes and mold, but even so, she could not ascertain what Brian found so terrifying about his family.
“How do we know you really took him to a hospital?” Pam second-guessed the visitor.
“My dear, he came home in a hospital gown,” Sue defended Nina, who was slowly getting annoyed with the carrot-haired bombshell calling her a liar.
“His clothing was burned off during the force of the current,” Nina countered, tossing the plastic bag on the table. Inside was remnants of the boy’s clothes and shoes, black and reeking of charge burn. “And that is why he needs to put this in his eyes every four hours.” With that, Nina slammed the small bottle of eye drops down on the table. She had had enough. Nina got up to leave just as Brian exited the bathroom. He smelled of detergent and hand soap and he wore his pajamas.
“I just decided to take a bath before grandpa gets home, Grandma,” he smiled. Those wise eyes found Nina’s, silently signaling that the deed was done and covered up. As Sue and Pam cuddled him up and picked him for traces of injuries, he smiled at Nina.
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