Scorpios and Sapphires

by L. B. Simon

  She couldn’t think of what was next. She stood up and poured herself another glass of wine. She was on a mission now; the future will be here soon enough. She walked to the window. She had always found peace looking at the sky. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to think positive; she must have faith in a better tomorrow or else what was the point of existing at all?

  "Hey!" Aidan came up to her, but she didn’t move.

  "Hey…" Was all she could utter. There was too much emotion in her heart so she kept her face averted.

  "I have a confession to make. I broke a promise I made to you; I stole your engagement ring, so Lachance could plant it at the crime scene." His tone was heavy with regret.

  "I know. I noticed it was missing."

  "Why didn’t you say something?"

  "Now that I am dead, it has no use or value to me. I was actually glad that it was gone; I hated that thing more than anything in this world!" She turned to him, her eyes deep and dark. "I do thank you for telling me the truth, though. It means a lot to me. I understand why you did that. Don’t worry about it, Aidan; there are no hard feelings."

  "You are not dead! You know that, right?" Aidan pulled her close, his heart tightening painfully.

  "Yeah, sure…" She placed her hand on his arm and kissed his cheek. "Bonne nuit."

  Aidan watched her go, feeling like a rotten egg. Mélisande was devastated, and it was partly his fault. He will have to keep an eye on her to make sure that she will be okay. Thinking of herself as dead, couldn’t be a good thing.

  He heaved a sigh, turning towards his friends. It seemed that it was not enough that he had stabbed Mélisande in the heart; he was about to hurt another woman he cared about. Well, that is if she noticed him. But he had no choice, something wasn’t right; he had to know the truth.

  He walked to where Savannah kept her files. As she was busy talking with Isa, he rummaged through the documents. When he found the dossier he was searching for, he slipped it under his shirt and snuck back to his room.

  Chapter 51

  Mélisande sat at the back of Vlad’s car as they made their way to the Café Russie. They were meeting Svetlana.

  Regardless of her bravado the day before, Mélisande’s heart was pounding in her chest. She was risking it all on a whim. But she needed the woman’s help, and she was sure that this was the right thing to do.

  They parked on the street and walked the remaining two blocks. Mélisande wore a wig, huge sunglasses as well as high heels, and a baggy, gray sweater that hid her curves and made her seem a few pounds heavier.

  The restaurant was quiet at this time of the day and the young, Asian hostess with almond shaped eyes, long, straight black-blue hair, welcomed them with a large smile.

  "This way, please." The girl spoke in a flawless Russian, surprising Mélisande.

  "She is from Eastern Siberia. The Tungusic people; they look Asian, but are Russian really," Veritas whispered under her breath as the girl walked ahead, then opened a door for them.

  "Please," she invited them to enter the private room filled with lively, instrumental music, playing from discreet speakers on the walls.

  A matronly woman sat at the table, her sharp gray eyes zeroed in on Mélisande as soon as they entered. Mélisande could tell immediately that the woman was not up for playing games.

  There was a small box in the middle of the table. They sat down exchanging greetings and the two women were introduced.

  "A bug detector!" Vlad nodded approvingly. "And I brought a jammer, just in case." He placed his own little box on the table, smiling.

  "I took the liberty to order our usual." Svetlana nodded. "Hope Clara, you like blintzes." Without waiting for a response, the woman continued. "I did as you instructed, and I have the contract. I assume there is more."

  "Yes, but I rather Yulia brings our food first." Veritas reached for the teacup and placed it beneath a massive golden samovar that stood on the table.

  She passed one delicate china with fragrant and steaming decoction to everyone and all added their favorite additions; milk or lemon and sugar. Yulia, the girl who showed them in, brought a tray with three blintzes on each plate, filled with lemony curd and sour cherry sauce on the side.

  "Spasibo, Yulechka!" Sveta thanked the girl as she finished placing the plates on the table. When the waitress left, Sveta rechecked her bug detector and nodded. "We are good. Now tell me, what are you dragging me into?"

  "All we need from you is to put a few of our friends on your staff for the event," Vlad began.

  "Ah, net!" Sveta raised her finger, in a warning gesture, shaking her head vigorously. "You want to put people on my team without letting me know what you are up to, and you bring a stranger to our meeting. I’m sorry, but I do not feel full of trust right now."

  "I understand," Veritas tried to intervene.

  "No, you do not seem to!" Sveta slammed her palm on the table, ending all efforts to soothe her. "I have an honest business! I will not risk it for the devil knows what! And you approaching me with something shady like this is more than an insult! You know that I sacrificed all that was dearest to me to keep a spotless name and business! And now you try to drag me down, after all I went through?"

  Mélisande watched the woman, whose face had flushed a rich red, for a long moment. Mélisande knew what she had to do; she took off her glasses, contact lenses and wig. Veritas had placed a hand on her arm, trying to stop her, but the young woman ignored it, handing Sveta her old driver license. The caterer paled as recognition hit her, nearly dropping her teacup. Mélisande forced herself to disregard the sudden tension that radiated from her friends.

  "You…" The woman whispered. "But…"

  "I understand! And I just trusted you with my biggest secret. I ask you to trust me too." Mélisande’s heart fluttered in her chest, but she went on. "I need your help. It will not put you at risk at all, and the payment will be made to you in the way you think is best. You will contact a recruitment agency as you will need additional staff. It is a real business, you can look it up, they have a website and an office. You will be in the clear. Police can come after you, and you will refer them to the agency; it will be law enforcement’s problem from there on, not yours. Here is the flyer you have received from the agency. You will call this number here, and we will provide you with people. It is legit as far as you are concerned. The only difference is that this is not the agency’s number."

  "And what is it that you are after?" Svetlana scrutinized her carefully. "If I may ask?"

  "I had been set-up and thrown to the wolves! I intend to find out the truth, clear my name and get even." Mélisande stared back at the woman defiantly.

  Svetlana held her gaze, then nodded.

  "I didn’t like that man from the moment he spoke of his daughter at the press conference." Sveta nodded again. "All right! We have a deal."

  Mélisande felt relief wash over her at these words and put her glasses back on as the caterer continued.

  "I need three people, anyway. So, this will work out perfectly."

  Mélisande wondered how they will get their fourth person in, but she was not about to start haggling with a woman who already went the extra mile to aid them.

  "Thank you, for your assistance."

  "Not a problem, I had a worthless father too, so I know how it is. He sleeps with the broad who hired me, I presume?"

  "Yes. It looks like they may have worked together to get me out of the picture." Mélisande couldn’t help but smile at the woman’s bluntness, though the admission tore her heart to shreds. "I need to know for sure if they had something to do with my troubles or not. And the only way to find out is to go inside the house."

  "Tsk-tsk-tsk. I can’t understand men who walk away from their child because of a new skirt that comes along. My old man was like that. Kept me around when he was single, then kicked me to the curb the moment he found a woman. When things began souring, back he was as if nothing had happened, blaming his ex for the fallou
t between us, and swearing it will never happen again. Well, that is until the next one came along." Svetlana nodded with determination. "I will do all I can to help you. I am so glad that I can be part of this. To justice!" She raised her cup and everyone followed suit.

  "To justice!"

  For the rest of the lunch, the three Russians entertained Mélisande with stories from their youth; about common people who came to power and abused it mercilessly, neighbours who spied on neighbours to gain favours with the government, how whole families lived in one or two bedrooms of huge apartments, sharing a kitchen and a bathroom with numerous other families while fighting over everything. Then the stories, of mafia taking over cities, seizing businesses away from people, threatening them with acid, violence, and death to get their way.

  Mélisande got lost in their adventures of old and almost forgot her burdens, as shivers ran down her back. With a heavy heart, she realized that the world was by far crueler than she had ever thought. Even her life wasn’t what she had believed it to be.

  Mélisande was glad that she had met Svetlana. The woman was as prickly as a rolled-up hedgehog, when threatened, but gentle and soft, like the animal’s belly with those she trusted.

  Chapter 52

  They returned to the hotel later than planned, and Mélisande found a pallid Aidan pacing the living room.

  "You are all right!" He wrapped his arms around her waist. "I thought that you got caught."

  "Sorry, Sveta was so kind, we lost track of time." Mélisande hugged him back, feeling his body hum with worry.

  "You told her, didn’t you? Who you are." Aidan pushed her away slightly.

  "Yes; it was unfair to expect her to trust us blindly. She needed something concrete. I trust her Aidan; she is a good, honest woman."

  "And you are too honest for your own good..." Aidan sighed and let Mélisande go.

  An invisible wall was suddenly standing between them, thick and unbreakable. He was afraid of losing her, and so distancing himself was the best way not to get hurt if something went wrong.

  "She will take on three of us." Mélisande, feeling the chill, moved away. "We will need to find a way to get our extra person in."

  "That is fine. Belmont will recognize me right away if I try to pass for a waiter; God knows he had been staring enough at my face the past few days," Aidan shrugged. "Isa, Phil and you are going to work with her. I will find some other way to get in. You are sure that Sveta can be trusted?" He inquired as she reached the door.

  "Yes," she nodded with conviction.

  "Good. Are you working today?" He studied her, an unreadable light dimming his eyes.

  "Yes, unless you need me to do something here?"

  "No! You need to practice, so you can blend in with the catering staff. I will see you later," and he left.

  Mélisande went to her room and got ready. Tonight, she worked the evening shift, the busiest time, but did really well. She even received quite a few generous tips. She came back late in the night to an empty suite.

  It was a bit strange, not finding Savy on the couch, Isa at the dining table or Aidan examining his flip charts. His door shut, added to her sense of loneliness.

  She slept fitfully, having nightmares of Svetlana bringing Kárpáti to her room and boasting how she found the not so dead girl. Two more weeks, she thought as she sat up in her bed, and this will all be over. She took a shower, got dressed and found Isa in the living room.

  "Hi, sweetie!" Isa hugged her. "How did it go yesterday?"

  "Good. Philip, you, and I will join the catering staff. Aidan will have to find an alternate access. How was your night?"

  "You will not believe it! I got pics of both Céline and Fifi. The crazy maid waited for Céline to leave to join Belmont in his room. Can’t complain, it did save me from an extra trip to the Eiffel Tower."

  "How did you get to stay up there after hours anyway?" Mélisande asked.

  "I used my charm to convince the security boys to let me stay. They were friendly and I think I impressed them with my P.I. licence. Besides, a woman in Paris with a lovely smile can get away with a great many things!" Isa winked.

  "You are a private detective?" Mélisande raised a surprised eyebrow as she sat down with her coffee.

  "Not really, but they didn’t need to know that." The two women exchanged a smile, just as Aidan entered the room.

  "Good morning!" He greeted them, and Isa raised her envelope.

  "Indeed, it is! Got two birds in one night!" She beamed triumphantly.

  "Say that again?" Aidan blinked in confusion, in obvious need of his morning coffee.

  "I got the loaded gun Lachance wanted. I have photos of Céline and Fifi. Apparently, Belmont doesn’t believe in closing the blinds. Savy called me to tell that Fifi was on the move. The maid waited for Céline to leave to join him upstairs. I would love to see her face when Céline sees those pics. I have date and time stamps on the images, just so she knows how much she is loved…"

  Aidan took the envelope she handed him and pulled out the photos. Mélisande got up to look too, but Isa stopped her with a hand on her arm and shook her head.

  "Oh boy!" Aidan let out a low whistle. "You are right, Céline will be one angry woman; I almost feel bad for Belmont."

  The photos were graphic, to say the least; sharp and clear. Isa had combined her camera with a long range 400mm telephoto lens, making the distance from the tower and the hotel insignificant.

  "Good work!" Aidan slipped the photos back into the envelope.

  "It’s just too bad that Kárpáti stays clear of the drama…" Isa’s tone was full of disappointment. "Well, I’m off to bed now." Isa waved at her friends and left.

  An awkward silence fell between Mélisande and Aidan. Her throat tightened, wanting the closeness they had shared just recently but was too scared to make the first move.

  "I will see you later." Aidan went back to his room.

  Mélisande stared after him for a long moment. A painful realization dawned on her; she was on her own. She could not expect others to come to her rescue, she had to make plans for her future now.

  Chapter 53

  Savannah has been at the Blanche residence, now for a week. This was her last day on the job, the party was tomorrow, and she had still not seen the room with the safe. She was determined to get in today, whatever the cost.

  She headed towards the office where it was supposed to be located; the hall was silent, no one in sight. She left the cart next to the door. If she got caught she would have an honest excuse; she was doing her job, though the cleaning staff was explicitly forbidden from entering several rooms, this one included. She will just have to play dumb.

  As she walked in, she took in the sparse furniture, the window in front of her, and a large painting on her left that covered most of the height of the wall.

  She closed the door and turned to see the right side of the room, where a stunned man sat at a desk. She immediately recognized François from the funeral pictures. Her heart stopped beating, as they stared at each other.

  "What are you doing in here?" He demanded in French.

  "Pardon, Monsieur," she mumbled, trying to hide her accent.

  "You are not allowed in here! So, I will ask again, what are you doing here?" He scrutinized her carefully as he got up.

  "I… I came to clean… I guess I got the wrong room…" Savy hunched slightly.

  "You guess?" He scowled at her suspiciously as he looked her over.

  "I will go now, Monsieur… Sorry for…" She tried to leave the room.

  "Not so fast! What is your name?"

  "Jane, Monsieur."

  "Do I know you? No…" His attention fell on the watch she wore and his hazel eyes widened. He glanced at the door. "Do what you have to do," he whispered.

  Feeling confused, Savannah began dusting. He watched her as she moved around.

  "Oh, for the love of God!" He grumbled, rolling his eyes. "You are not one of the cleaning staff, obviously; none are
dumb enough to come into the off-limits rooms."

  "I’m sorry, Monsieur?" She blinked at him innocently.

  "You have three minutes to get what you need. Use your time wisely."

  Savy stared at him, not sure of what he meant. He tightened his jaw in exasperation and walked to the painting. He swung it open, and she saw the safe. Hesitating, she moved closer, still unsure of what was going on.

  The camera in her eyeglasses was taking in everything she faced; she tried to move her head so as to catch all aspects of the safe and the surrounding wall without being too obvious. François went back to the table and shuffled some papers.

  "Come here," he motioned for her to approach.

  She obliged, glancing briefly at the papers on the table. Hurried footsteps sounded down the hall. François shoved the printed sheets into a wastebasket, thrust it into her arms and rushed to close the painting.

  "Take this out!" He barked as the door opened.

  "Oui, Monsieur!" Savy lowered her head submissively and began backing up.

  "What in the world is she doing in here?" A man’s harsh voice boomed behind Savannah.

  "Bonjour Papa!" François forced a tone of cheerfulness into his words. "This needs emptying, I told the girl to come in and take care of it."

  "She is not supposed to be in here!" Renaud roared.

  "It’s just for one second. Get this out, now!" The son repeated, glaring at Savy.

  Savy walked out, trying to keep her steps steady.

  "You know that no one is supposed to be in here!" The older man persisted.

  "What? Now I’m supposed to take the trash out myself when there is a bunch of half-witted broads running around, paid to take care of such things?" François sounded angry. "There is a limit to what I am willing to take as my punishment for disobeying your orders!"

  Savy closed the door behind her, made sure that she was alone and reached into the trash. She found the folded papers and pulled them out. She moved to tuck them in her back pocket, then hesitated and hid them in her bra. She tipped the contents of the basket into the garbage container attached to the cart.