Clarence held his breath in anticipation as Cecelia took the podium, grasping it in her hands and looking out over the crowd for a moment, taking their measure. She seemed far more poised and confident than Clarence expected. Something about her smile worried him. She had something in mind. He forced himself to relax. It must be his imagination. Now, she would talk a little about herself and take questions.
She cleared her throat and began talking. Her first words sent Clarence’s expectations tumbling down a precipitous cliff.
"This city has been too long without any direction or focus,” she said. “It has drifted, rather than grown. And that, my friends, is not your fault. It is the result of a limited vision for the future and a lack of dynamic leadership. Now, with the beginning of my administration, that has changed. I took the job of mayor in order to put Traverse back on track to greatness. With my leadership, this town can regain its vibrancy. We can create jobs..."
Clarence, not being a fan of empty political rhetoric, even unexpected bombast, or perhaps especially that, found his attention wandering from her surprising message. Turning his attention back to watching people, he was amazed to see that she was reaching her audience. The boredom he’d seen was replaced with rapt attention. They hung on her every word, took her observations and promises to heart. Seeing the way Cecelia connected with her audience was somehow unsettling.
As the crowd began to murmur their approval, even shouting at some of her wilder ideas, a realization came over him, unnerving him even more. If she could inspire, galvanize this crowd of strangers so easily, then she might get the entire populace behind her. Every leader wanted to do that, of course, but her speech didn’t position the town’s government as the solution to their problems at all. No, she was telling them about what she wanted to do and what she saw as possible.
They were eating it up and that frightened Clarence. They wanted her to carry out her mad scheme. If that contagion spread, if the people truly were taken in and gave her their mandate, he knew what came next. Cecelia was crafty and she would consolidate power. She’d already talked about eliminating the town council and he knew she’d do that. Cecelia always liked getting her own way, leading the parade. And now, in this room, she was creating an army of followers. It might be only fifty people now, but then according to the papers he'd read, a typical voting majority in Traverse was only a hundred or so. Besides, there was no reason to believe that the rest of the town wouldn’t fall under her sway just as easily, as apparently Cecelia's personality and message were exactly what the people of Traverse, at least these, wanted to hear.
Essentially what Clarence sensed was a serious sea change in Cecelia as well as the crowd. She had come here to offer some ideas, some hope, but the enthusiasm of the crowd was feeding her energy, as well as her desire to be their leader to unfurl her banner. Their response gave her more confidence—far too much. Now her face seemed to glow with eagerness and she found that speaking out from her heart passionately seemed to produce exactly the things her audience wanted to hear or to make them like the things she said.
Either way, it was spooky.
Edgar, standing behind her looked disconcerted too. This wasn’t at all what they’d planned, what needed to be happening right now. Her becoming mayor was a simple trick, a trap for the artifact, but her attraction to the power the office gave her, was changing her. Cecelia, who he always thought rational, if impulsive was becoming a monster before his eyes—an oppressive monster at that.
Clarence felt a shudder. A premonition tingled in his spine. It was a fearful tingle, a tingle of anticipation of something bad. In that instant, as he watched Cecelia shaking her fist, pound on the podium and voice her frustration on the behalf of the public over the need for longer library hours, Clarence suddenly experienced his own vision of the future. His heart pounded with the realization that it was a true and accurate prophecy of the future. This speech, the way she captivated the voters in this town was just the beginning... the beginning of the end. Cecelia had gone from apolitical to a fanatic leader so quickly, within the space of minutes. And that meant... Clarence caught his breath at the possibilities, the dreadful truth.
If she succeeded as mayor of Traverse, took over the town and realized her vision of power, it was just a matter of time before she'd want to run the entire State. He could see that happening. The unimaginable was now a realistic assessment of the future. And from the governor's mansion, she'd be well positioned to catch the eye of the broader public. She’d have a pulpit to spread her ideas, her dreams across the nation. Her thirst for power would be unquenchable. The wench was definitely mad for power.
As she wrapped up her speech, as he watched the people come to their feet applauding Cecelia, cheering her, Clarence knew the truth. He would have to stop her. No one else would. And given the way the crowd rallied around her, embraced her every word, he knew that no half measures would suffice. No, this potential dictator had to be stopped, nipped in the bud. And, as no one else saw the danger she represented, clearly it was up to him to do it.
Clarence pulled his shoulders back. It wouldn't be pleasant, but he knew exactly what he had to do to keep this tyrant from conquering everything that lay in her path.
It was unfortunate, and that truth hung heavy on his shoulders. He wished there was someone to turn to but no one else could do it; no one else should have to do it. He was close to her. He had helped her take power. Now Clarence needed to make plans, pick his moment, and get Cecelia in a conversation about her vision. And then he’d kill her.
She had to be stopped and it had to be soon.
Chapter Eighteen
My speech was nothing less than a triumph. I was inspired. My words had resonated with my people. I saw it in their flashing eyes, heard it in their cheering voices as they took up the cry for planting more flowers in the traffic meridian and longer library hours. I’d captured their imagination.
Unfortunately, Billy Walker hadn’t caught the fever, been swept up in the future of Traverse. "I'm not exactly sure why you are so eager to do all these things," Billy Walker said to me. He was pointing at a list, one I'd put in front of him, lying face up on my desk. “What’s the rush?”
He'd read through far too quickly to suit me. How could he possibly understand the ramifications of my proposals with only a glance?
"The point is that I need your help making these things happen." I'd thought the man understood, but that just shows you that you can't afford to expect too much of your underlings. He might have to be replaced.
"But this list..."
"You heard my speech, didn't you?"
"Sure, I heard it but..."
"Well, these are the basics, the first steps we need to take to make Traverse great. If we get moving on them we can make this town better than it ever was."
"Most people kind of like it the way it is," he said. "Employment is decent right now. Tourism isn't bad, given the national economy, and the city is clean and neat. We've kept up the parks."
I crossed my arms and glared at the man. "If everything is fine, why did I have to sign all those requests and forms? And why did my speech arouse the masses?"
Billy ran his hand through thinning hair. "Those masses were the layabouts who have nothing to do on a weekday afternoon. And the documents were unfinished business. One was to authorize the State to release funds earmarked for regular maintenance and a few civic improvements we need. Some of the roads need work, and we are behind on making some of the town buildings handicapped accessible. The State approved the funds, but we have to officially request them."
"You see? There is always a need to improve things. That’s what I’m about, what my administration is about."
"Cecelia, we do improve things regularly. The town council is considering turning the downtown area into a one-way grid and even creating a pedestrian shopping area. That will be really nice."
"Why are they considering it?"
"Because it's a good idea." I could
hear the uncertainty, the weakness in his voice. Sooner or later I’d have to replace this poor man. He was clearly getting out of his depth.
"I understand that, and I agree. So why drag things out? Why hasn't it been done already, or at least started?"
"You can't just do whatever comes to mind. The council has a responsibility to study the matter thoroughly and then vote on it before they take any action. Changing the streets to one way might not sound like a big deal, but it will affect the parking available and require some businesses to adapt."
"Which they should do. Adaptation is a requirement of survival."
"Well, even if we think it’s a brilliant idea, under the charter of this town, we still need a consensus to make it work.”
“What a stupid situation.”
“Would you like to review the reports and studies? It should come to a vote at the next meeting."
The idea was appalling. "No, I don't care about that."
"You don't?"
"Billy, a good idea is a good idea no matter what some report says. And this council..." I could picture them, arguing about trivial points, dragging the process out interminably and delaying progress, the advancement of my town. "Have you ever considered doing without them?"
"Who?"
"The council.”
“The town charter specifically requires a quorum of the council to agree to...”
What rubbish that was. “It seems to me that all they amount to is unnecessary baggage. They are just an impediment to progress. Why do we need extra bureaucrats questioning our every decision? If we did away with them..."
“The town charter...” Billy said again, sounding a bit flustered.
“The charter could be made irrelevant. The will of my people is what matters.” I was envisioning how smoothly the office would run without those reactionary and overly cautious council members. Not only that, but the offices that the councilmen used, the big meeting room, could be put to much better use. Just as I was about to explain this all to Billy Walker (certain he would agree with me), Clarence came in.
"Hello, Clarence," Billy said, sounding oddly relieved at the interruption.
"Mr. Walker," he said. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but would it be possible for me to have a moment of time with.. the mayor?"
"Of course, of course." He was speaking hurriedly. "I think we were about done here, anyway."
"We were just getting started, Billy. We have so much to do. We need to look into..."
He picked up the list of my ideas and turned toward the door. "We can finish this discussion later, Madam Mayor.”
“Find out the procedure for modifying the town charter,” I said. “I want to know our legal options for eliminating the town council.”
“Yes, Madam Mayor. But right now I have urgent errands to run." He headed for the door.
As the door closed behind him, I smiled at Clarence. "I'm glad to see you. Maybe you can help me out."
"With what?"
"I don't think our plan is working."
He nodded. "That's what I came here to talk to you about."
"Then you agree with me?"
I caught an odd, hedging his bets kind of look in his eye. “It depends on what you mean by not working. Let’s say I'm disappointed in the way things are going."
That was what I wanted to hear. "Exactly! That is precisely the right word—disappointed. After all the enthusiasm the people showed for my dream I’m learning that the town manager is going to be a hindrance, instead of a help to me as he should be. I might have to replace him. And then there is the problem, the encumbrance of this foot-dragging town council.”
“I was thinking...”
“And here’s another thing, Clarence, and it’s just crazy, stupid crazy. With all there is to do, I just learned that I don’t even have a full term to work with. Billy explained that since I'm a replacement mayor, I'm just finishing out the term in office. In three months I'll have to run for re-election. What a waste of time that is." I turned away from Clarence. There was a large year calendar on the wall and I pointed at it. "That gives me little time to implement my policies and ideas. And I don't see the point."
"The point of what?" he asked.
"The point of limiting the mayor's time in office. It’s so artificial."
"I’d think it’s obvious. The idea is to prevent someone from exploiting the power of the office."
"That's just a feeble excuse. Limiting the mayor's time in office, not to mention limiting her authority by forcing her to work with a town council, is too restrictive. The mentality that puts constraints on my authority is the enemy of exactly the kind of long-term planning and even dreaming that growth and success demand. There's no continuity in such a devilish and foolish situation. It would make far more sense to give the mayor more authority and let her stay in office indefinitely. I should have all the time I need to implement my vision properly, not to mention unfettered access to the town's resources."
"That's not how a democratic government is supposed to work..."
"I know that, but that doesn’t mean the way it is supposed to work is right. And that democracy nonsense is irritating. I've heard enough of that talk, Clarence. Too much.”
“You are losing it, Cecelia,” Clarence said.
I ignored him and turned my attention to the calendar on the wall again, trying to create some kind of flow chart I could put there for the projects I had in mind. It was already March fifteenth. Something about that date resonated inside me and not in a good way. It didn’t matter though—once I got rid of the council we’d see real progress.
“It seems to me that a lot of this government stuff has been made overly complicated. With a little intelligence, it could be made so simple. If they will just give me the reins of power and step back, well, I will turn this town around. It will become a showcase for effective, productive, and benevolent management and governance."
I heard a shuffle of feet behind me. "Cecelia..." Edgar called out.
I turned froze in place. Clarence had moved toward me. His posture seemed odd, tense. Then I saw a glint of light. It was reflecting off of the blade of a golden dagger that he clutched in his hand.
Edgar stood next to him. He was clutching Clarence's arm with both hands. He was holding him back for the moment, but Clarence still strained to come for me. I knew Edgar couldn't last long. The exertion was making him fade rapidly. "Run!" he squeaked.
I stared at Clarence. I could feel rage and hostility radiating from him. "And you too, Clarence?" I asked.
I couldn't recall ever saying that before, not exactly, but the words had an eerily familiar ring to them... as did the dagger in my friend's hand, my assassin’s hand. The dagger he intended to kill me with was far too familiar. Where had I seen it before?
Clarence was struggling with Edgar, using his free hand to get his arm out of the ghost's hands. "Run!" Edgar shouted (feebly) again.
"Let me go," Clarence shouted. "I will end this. Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead! Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets."
This time I ran. “Not you,” he shouted as I slammed the door behind me.
Chapter Nineteen
As Cecelia fled the room, Clarence turned his anger on the ghost beside him. "You traitor! You helped her escape! I can't believe you were so cowardly."
"Clarence, that was Cecelia you were trying to kill. She’s your best friend. It’s that dagger. You're under the influence of..." And then he was gone.
It took Clarence a second to realize what had happened. Before he could finish his sentence the invisible cord that connected him to the escaping Cecelia had dragged Edgar through the closed door and out of the room.
It was frustrating. Demoralizing. He'd been so close to stopping Cecelia’s maniacal grab for power. Now it would be harder; now she knew he was her enemy and would be watching him.
He sat down to consider his options. He had picked the perfect moment. She'd been off guard, but that ghost had alerted he
r and slowed him down. Now she'd be wary. She might even go to the police or sheriff. Clarence wasn't sure if the town had one or the other, or both. They'd have some sort of law enforcement and there was no denying that he'd just tried to kill her. But he'd failed.
Now he needed to plan an ambush that worked even though she'd be expecting it. For the moment, Clarence treated that as a challenge to be savored. Anyone could stab an unsuspecting potential dictator in the back; a true patriot, once thwarted, would rise to the occasion, would find a way to rid the republic of the fiend regardless.
The ringing of his cell phone brought him from his reverie. It was Enid.
“Hey there,” he said cheerfully. “I just worked it out.”
"I just had the strangest call from Cecelia," she said. “She sounded upset.”
"I don't doubt that at all," he said. "She's not in her right mind, you know. Things went wrong somehow and she's gone mad with power. You know how impulsive she can be at any time. Well, this mayor thing has really captured her. The idea of ruling has taken over her diseased mind."
"Well, she thinks you want to kill her."
“She’s right. It’s the only solution.”
“What?”
"I have to kill her, Enid. She’s totally mad. But don't worry, even though she's been alerted I'll manage. I'm much better at planning than she is. Well, you know that. So I'll figure out a way to corner her. This time I'll make sure Edgar is in the pen box before I make my move. That was my big mistake the first time."
Enid coughed. "Clarence, I truly wish you wouldn't do that. After all, you promised me. I distinctly ask you not to murder Cecelia. Do you remember that conversation?"
"I do. I said I’d try not to, but things have changed since then, Enid. Cecelia has changed. If you were here you'd understand. If I don't stop her, Cecelia is going to take over the world. I wonder if I can get the town council to help me. They have as much at stake as anyone. If she has her way, I imagine she'll execute them at the first opportunity. They do represent the old guard, after all."
The Curious Case of the Cursed Dagger (Curiosity Shop Cozy Mysteries Book 3) Page 14