A Pawn for Malice

by Cynthia Roberts

  He moved quietly up behind her and slowly turned her around, interlacing his fingers at the curve of her back.

  “I know one thing I’d like to address first.”

  She smiled knowingly, but went along anyways.

  “And, what’s that, Senator.”

  “This,” he replied, softly claiming her lips.

  She melted … like butter over a slow heat, and got lost in the wonder of his lips caressing hers. Every kiss they shared was better than the one before. Even his goodnight kiss, when he walked her to her car, was now just a memory, a beautiful one, nonetheless. But, it was being replaced by a softer, more tortuous, and hypnotic exploration.

  He knew how to explore her mouth, without being invasive. He knew how to tantalize her senses, without being soppy, and; he knew how to stir passion’s fire, leaving her wanting more of the same.

  It was six-thirty, when she first arrived. She remembered Connor saying over dinner he planned on coming in that morning around seven, and she didn’t want him finding them in a lover’s embrace. As much as she hated being the one to break the spell between them, she pulled away, with an honest excuse passing from her lips. She heard the breathlessness in her voice and blushed.

  “Connor will be here soon.”

  He kissed her softly one last time and drew away, walking back to his chair, and sitting down.

  She turned back to retrieve her coffee, opened two packets of cream, and stirred the contents, as she blew out a breath very slowly. The after effects of his kiss, left her slightly shaken and she wrapped both of her hands around her coffee cup, and took the seat in front of him.

  “Now, about today,” she proceeded, making him chuckle lightly. She smiled at his reaction and continued. “I don’t know, if you remember or not, I scheduled myself for the tour of the Capitol at noon. If that’s still okay?”

  She could tell he was mulling that over in his mind a little too long. She noticed his forehead furrowing slightly with concern and argued the point, before he did.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Bryan, and you don’t have to worry. There’s safety in numbers, and the Tour Office already confirmed there will be 25 other people in attendance. I am really, looking forward to it. It’ll be somewhat slow around here today and the tour is only an hour long. There’s a possibility it may go over by thirty minutes, depending on how many questions everyone has along the way.”

  She didn’t say anything else. She was confident her argument was strong enough. It took him only a few more moments to reply.

  “Enjoy yourself. I’ll have lunch ordered around one-thirty for the three of us. You said the Today Show confirmed my interview with Matt Lauer this Friday at 9 a.m., correct?”

  “Yes, that’s right. They sent me a list of questions for approval. I’ve already finished writing out your responses and we can go over them when I return.”

  “That’s why I love ya. You know what I’m thinking, before I do.”

  “Oh, not on all matters,” she jested playfully.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The Capitol served, as the seat of New York’s government, since the 1880’s. Jessica knew the building was completed maybe a decade after that at a cost of around twenty-million. That was the extent of her knowledge, however. As much as she wanted to learn more, working for Bryan kept her terribly busy. What excited her most, was learning about the famous ‘Million Dollar Staircase,’ she climbed nearly every day.

  There were already fifteen people congregated in the public tour section, awaiting the arrival of their appointed guide and the remaining group members. Jessica smiled at a couple, who she thought were in their early sixties. She noticed most of those milling about were seniors, all of whom took turns saying hello.

  In a matter of minutes, the remaining ten arrived together, all high school teenagers, along with their chaperone. The tour guide made her entrance shortly thereafter, garbed in a well-tailored two-piece navy pant suit, complimented by a blue and red starred ascot tied about her neck. She was an adorable individual, dainty and petite of frame with a pleasant speaking voice.

  “Hello, everyone. My name is Melinda Wentworth. On behalf of the State of New York, welcome to our State Capitol. If you have any questions during our tour, please feel free to speak up. I’ll do my very best to answer any you may have. Let’s begin, as we make our way toward our first stop.”

  Everyone proceeded quietly behind in an orderly manner, their eyes already scanning the area around them.

  “The tremendous weight of these majestic granite walls,” she pointed, “were originally constructed for the grand tower left uncrowned that you see above us. Nearly a quarter of a century passed, until Gov. Alfred E. Smith began the restoration of the lower part of the tower to something like it was originally designed. The second floor, you’ll see,” she directed their eyes, “was removed to create a rotunda forty-feet high and made into this Flag Room we’re now entering.”

  The room was tall, to say the least, and held Civil War keepsakes encased in glass. It included a huge collection of the State’s flags from the very beginning of statehood. The arched ceiling overhead depicted murals of historic wars. The most focal piece in the center, was an embossed female figure of a woman mourning the dead.

  “A New York artist named William DeLeftwich Dodge,” the guide continued, as she slowly moved along, “was commissioned to paint the art work you see here. He spent five years putting twenty-four panels of canvas in his home studio, aided by his daughter Sara, while the erection of the domed ceiling was finished. Finally, in 1928, it was ready and the murals were attached.”

  The group took a moment to check out the artifacts, and then moved on to the freight elevator, which took them to the second floor. Slowly, they made their way down the Hall of Governors. Upon its walls, hung huge oil paintings of New York’s former governors, from beginning too present.

  The Governor’s official ‘Red Room’ was next on their stop. Everyone were awed by the rich fabrics and fixtures, and the highly polished woods that gleamed ageless in his chambers. For some reason, this room brought out their cell phones, as they utilized their cameras to mark the moment.

  Jessica noticed, that a newcomer joined their group upon their exiting the Red Room. He seemed so out of place and acted terribly nervous. It was like he didn’t want to be there, and she could tell his skinny frame was shaking. He was a mousy sort of fellow and hung back from the rest of the spectators, almost as if, he intended not to follow along.

  Jessica found herself repeatedly looking over her shoulder. When she did, she found him watching her, instead of taking interest in the artifacts and historical references being brought to their attention.

  They passed through thick double-glassed doors, which she knew lead to the Senate Chambers. Melinda continued her monolog, as everyone circled around her.

  “H.H. Richardson was responsible for this Chamber’s design. This is where our legislative leaders in the Senate conduct their business, while in session. Mr. Richardson began his work with limitations though, due to construction commitments made years before him. He had the same amount of space, as the Assembly Chambers to work with. But, he didn’t need it all, since the Senate numbered fewer in members. Back then, there were 128 members of the Assembly and only 32 Senators. So, he created the East Lobby adjacent to us, and a West Lobby at the farther end of the room.”

  Jessica agreed, it was a magnificent area with its gothic arches and carpeting, that reflected the numerous colors in the stained-glass windows. The solid brass chandeliers, wall sconces and lamps, Bryan had told her, while sitting in the chambers, were replicas of original gas fixtures from the past. Her attention was drawn to the golden oak ceiling overhead, with its beautiful craftsmanship, and wood panels. The walls were made of stone in a variety of onyx, marble, and granite throughout.

  Her chest puffed with pride. She had the honor and privilege of entering this room many times.

  “You can see up there,�
� their guide pointed, “galleries were constructed for the public to visit and watch the proceedings here below. Mr. Richardson thrilled in using imports from all over the world. The walls, pillars and arches are Mexican onyx. The fireplaces were built with Siena marble. The chairs and settees were made of Spanish leather; and Caribbean red-brown mahogany was used for the desks.”

  As they began to leave through the West Senate lobby, she moved to the side to call Bryan on her cell. She wanted to make sure he didn’t need her back for anything pressing. There was still the staircase to view, and she didn’t want to miss it.

  Bryan assured her all was well and not to worry. She caught up with the procession almost immediately. She noticed that the odd ball, who had joined them much later, was missing from the group. She turned about to see, if he was lagging, and was startled, as she caught him jumping behind one of the massive marble pillars to hide himself.

  That’s strange! She exclaimed silently, making a face. Is he that shy for Pete’s sake.

  For a moment, she thought his actions were just too bizarre and thought about warning the Sergeant-of-Arms, as to his odd behavior.

  The Tour Guide’s cry, “Our next stop is the million-dollar staircase,” caught Jessica’s attention. She shrugged her concern off, and hurried to close the distance between her and the group.

  No matter how many times she had climbed this staircase already, she always found it to be a wondrous masterpiece.

  Melinda explained how it was a correlation between Moorish and Victorian Gothic, whatever that meant. What Jessica saw, was an intricate series of elegant arches. The carvings in the wood, were exquisite designs. No two were alike and Melinda further explained how they depicted the scale of evolution, as the staircase ascended.

  There was a nine-foot wheel, that to her looked like a rose-window, set within the balustrade between the third and fourth levels.

  “Red Corse hill sandstone, which is a freestone commonly used for fine carving, was imported from Scotland,” Melinda explained. “When it’s first quarried, it’s soft and hardens slowly the more it’s exposed to the air. After it’s rubbed out, it resembles the polished wood you see here. It worked out so well on the Senate staircase, it became the principal stone for the entire Great Western Staircase, which was popularly nicknamed the ‘Million-Dollar” Staircase,” she opened her arms wide, smiling proudly. “The actual cost, fell in the neighborhood, of one-million-five-hundred thousand dollars.

  This staircase measures seventy-seven feet and one-hundred-nineteen feet up to the skylight above. A steam engine in the attic hoisted the stone for construction. It took twice as long to build, because there were periodic layoffs due to lack of funds, lasting five and a half years.”

  It was then, that Jessica noticed the mass of carvings, being pointed out, as they continued to climb. The fact that the Civil War was still very vivid in the minds of the craftsmen, its hero’s faces were carved here … Lincoln, Generals Grant and Sherman. Melinda also pointed out John Brown, Harriet Beecher Stowe, and the mulatto abolitionist, Frederick Douglass. A poet’s corner, also honored Whitman, Longfellow, and Whittier.”

  Their guide chuckled softly, as she continued. “Legends have it, that the heads no one couldn’t identify, were actually, those relatives and friends of the carvers. A half-dozen remained unidentified. These two though,” she pointed out, “are the daughter and granddaughter of Isaac Perry, one of the major stone carvers of the staircase.”

  They climbed the last final steps to the sixth-floor landing, and she counted them to herself quietly.

  Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, she gasped aloud. She could tell many of the seniors were breathless, and scurried to occupy the leather benches and chairs scattered about for the public’s relaxation.

  Melinda went from guest-to-guest, thanking them one last time for joining the tour, and answered whatever lingering questions they might have.

  Jessica heard one of the seniors telling another it was just one o’clock. She knew that Bryan was going to have lunch delivered around one-forty-five. It was the first time, that she was ever up on the sixth floor and she looked about. Two of the seniors, who stayed by her side the duration of the tour, said their goodbyes.

  Jessica watched as the entire group of them made their way onto the elevator with the guide and; she waved to them, as the doors slowly began to close. The teens and their chaperone decided to take the stairs back down to the main floor.

  Jessica thought to herself, Good for them, and watched, as they enthusiastically began to descend the staircase, until they were out of sight.

  She turned and decided to follow the corridor to her right. She had no idea where it would take her and let her curiosity lead the way. It did not take long for the echoing sounds of the teens to disappear the further on she walked.

  Soon, silence permeated around her. It became rather obvious; the sixth floor hadn’t been used in a very long time. It even smelled musty, the farther she walked. She didn’t hear any distant chatter, or those normal noises a busy office generated. It was somewhat eerie in a way, and Jessica found herself questioning her decision to be up here by herself.

  A breeze wafted over her and she shivered, wondering where it may have originated from. There were no open windows or doorways, that she could see, as she turned yet, another corner. It was a short walkway, that soon curved to the left. It seemed like her shoulder bag was getting heavier and; she readjusted it like a bullet bandolier across her chest.

  “Where the heck does this lead?” She spoke aloud.

  She entered another chamber, which seemed virtually endless. This floor was all unused space. She knew that once the Legislative Office Building was constructed, most of the Senate and Assembly offices were transferred to there, leaving, a majority, of the Capitol empty. An entire empty floor was haunting.

  She tested many of the doors, and found that they were all locked. She couldn’t tell whether the sounds of footsteps echoing around her were still hers, or those of someone else.

  Even the sound of her own breathing, vibrated loudly, making the hairs prickle on the back of her neck. She strained her ears to pick up any background noise, but it was only the silence that greeted her.

  The more she walked, the more uncomfortable she became. The light in the room seemed to start to fade as well. Jessica quickly glanced at her phone.

  “Shit!” She muttered, as she noticed only one bar remained. She became irritated … extremely so. She should have returned to the office, instead of venturing into the unknown like this.

  “Damn it,” she scoffed, stomping her foot in aggravation.

  She knew she had just bitten through the skin of her lower lip from the metallic taste of blood in her mouth. An unsettling feeling washed over her, and it was then, she decided to retrace her steps.

  Were her eyes, playing tricks on her? Was the light beginning to fade?

  She dialed Bryan’s number right away, but he did not pick up. She decided to text him instead, before her phone died completely.

  Hey, Bryan. The tour ended forty-five minutes earlier. I decided to check out the sixth floor. What a mistake. My phone’s about to die. I’m on my way back now.

  She put her phone on Airplane Mode to conserve her battery power.

  She knew she was still a short distance away from the elevators and hurried her steps. She was anxious to get back to the office. She heard scampering noises, coming from the vents overhead and knew it had to be rodents. She shuddered and fear, for some reason, started to prickle at her brain. She could feel her heart beating harder against her chest, as beads of perspiration dotted her upper lip.

  This was such a stupid idea, she chastised herself quietly.

  Her phone let off a tone, signaling it was shutting down due to low voltage. She huffed loudly, shaking her head with annoyance, as she shoved it inside her shoulder bag. Bryan would never let her forget this. She knew she was late now, and he was probably getting worried. She rounded the corn
er and yelped out loud, startled by the person standing in front of her.

  It was the lanky, young man from the tour, who had been acting strangely. But, what struck the most fear in her heart, was the figure of the man, who just turned the corner.

  She knew she wouldn’t be returning to the office, as she gazed upon the face of her attacker outside Bryan’s office a few weeks ago.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “We meet again,” he cackled, as though mightily pleased with himself.

  He took a step closer.

  She took three steps back.

  A chill ran through her, as her eyes darted about the room. There was no avenue of escape. The last thing she needed to do, was turn around and run, back into that maze of corridors and locked doorways. She knew she just had to be close to the elevators. She thought about the revolver tucked safely away at the bottom of her shoulder bag. By the time she dug it out though, they’d be on her, and fast.

  Jessica knew it was smarter not to give away the fact she was concealing and hoped they wouldn’t attempt to take her bag away from her. She kept her hands at her side, even though she wanted to cradle the bag protectively.

  “It’s obvious you want something, so, what is it?” She replied dryly.

  The tall, lanky kid beside the villainous lout looked nervous as hell. If she was a betting woman, she’d guess he was no older than twenty-years old. His eyes darted about and he shuffled nervously. He was either coerced into being there, or threatened within an inch of his life, based on the visible bruises she noticed coloring his cheeks and wrists.

  She had to keep her wits about her, if she wanted to survive. It was something she had experience at doing. This time, she was smarter and better trained at defending herself. She looked the lanky boy up and down.

  I can take him. She surmised with confidence.

  She looked back at the filthy lump at the kid’s side and knew, if she kicked him forcibly in the gut, he’d hit the ground hard gasping for breath.