Maxwell’s Silver Hammer

by Ciana Stone

  With that she marched from the room, her head high. Richard watched her go then sat down, his brow furrowed in thought.

  Seated before the monitor, Nikki, Max and Simon watched the exchange in silence. When there was no one but Richard left sitting alone in the room, Nikki turned to look at Max. “Do you believe that? About Deborah, I mean?”

  Not for an instant, his mental reply was immediate.

  “He doesn’t believe it,” she said to Simon. “And honestly, neither do I. Surely Mr. Robinson isn’t careless enough to keep sensitive information where just anyone could get their hands on it.”

  “He’s not,” Simon said. “He’s covering.”

  “But why?”

  “Because he’s an ambitious man.”

  “So what now?” she asked.

  “Now we try to find out who did kill Abernathy,” Simon answered, and looked at Max. “We need to know everything Mark Robinson is hiding. Do you think you and Nikki’s friend Mr. Marshall can handle that?”

  Max nodded.

  “Then contact Mr. Marshall. Assure him that he will be under no danger of legal repercussions, and that if this task is successfully accomplished, a position with Weston is his for the taking. He can name his price.”

  Max nodded again and Nikki gaped in surprise until Max nudged her. Call Ben and ask.

  “Huh? Oh yeah. Okay.” She hurried to get her cell phone, thinking that each day brought new and unexpected events. Would there ever be a time when life around Max would be normal?

  —

  When Nikki and Max entered Simon’s study, he was focused on the screen of a laptop perched on his legs.

  “It appears that Richard has been exonerated in the murder of Charles Abernathy.”

  “How?” Nikki asked.

  “One of our maids, Deborah Tillman, did not show for work the last two days. This morning Osgood had another member of the staff go to check on her and found her dead. An apparent suicide.”

  “She killed herself?” Nikki was shocked. Why would Deborah have killed herself? She seemed to like her job and Nikki hadn’t heard anyone speak about her as having personal problems.

  “Apparent is the operative word here,” Simon replied. “A note was found in which she confessed to the murder. She wrote that she did it to get even with Richard for tossing her aside after a short-lived affair. He promised to have her flown to Europe to an apartment in Paris so that she would be close by while he was there with Helen. When he failed to fulfill his promise, she seduced Robinson in an attempt to make him jealous, but it didn’t work. According to the note he laughed at her when she called and informed him she’d slept with Robinson. Said that Robinson was welcome to her. That he’d been tired of her for months. She wanted to make him pay for breaking her heart, so she tried to frame him for murder, but found that she couldn’t live with it, and couldn’t live without him.”

  Nikki looked from Simon to Max. “That…that—I’m sorry but that just sounds like a bad soap opera.”

  “Well put,” Simon agreed. “I do not believe for a moment that there is a shred of truth in the so-called suicide note. But it does clear Richard.”

  “What does that mean to us?” she asked.

  That mistrust has been wedged between the major players. Something that could be to our advantage. Max’s voice had her eyebrows rising.

  She repeated his words for Simon, who nodded with a smile. “And why I summoned you. Helen placed a call to Robinson, demanding his presence. He should be here any moment.”

  “Then we should get the surveillance net online and…” Nikki trailed off as Simon turned the laptop to show them what was on the display.

  Helen sat on the divan in her private sitting room, sipping a cup of tea. “I think I’ll fix some coffee. Anyone want anything?” Nikki asked.

  “Coffee would be lovely,” Simon replied. Max just gave her the thumbs up.

  She was returning from the kitchen with a carafe of coffee, cream, sugar and cups when Simon called to her. “Nikki, the show is about to begin.”

  “Here I am,” she announced, placing the tray on a side table. “Coffee all around?”

  “That can wait. Come,” Simon replied.

  She hurried to take a seat on the couch beside Max. The laptop was sitting on the coffee table.

  Helen was standing as Mark Robinson closed the door and crossed the room to her. “Helen, I came as soon as I could.” He went to take her hand but she jerked it out of his reach.

  “How dare you keep this from me!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Richard’s affair with that…that servant.”

  “Helen, I didn’t know until I heard about the suicide note the poor woman left.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Why would I lie to you? Helen,” he took her hand and lifted it to cradle it against his chest. “You know I’d never keep something like that from you. For god’s sake, I love you.”

  Helen dropped her eyes for a moment then looked up at him. “Forgive me, Mark. I was just so…humiliated when this horrible news came to light. God only knows how many people are already laughing at me behind my back.”

  She pulled away from Mark to stalk to the picture window overlooking the formal garden. “I could kill that man. Honestly. Look at what he’s put me through. And now this? I’ll be the laughingstock of society, Mark. Unable to show my face.”

  Mark hurried over to her, taking her by the shoulders to turn her to face him. “Leave him. No, don’t look at me like that. I mean it. Leave him.”

  “And free him to consort with every nubile nymphet that catches his eye? Dear Lord, I can see it now. Every other day there would be a photo of him and some strumpet plastered on the society page. No, I’ll never give him the satisfaction.”

  “Then what?”

  “I want him gone. Out of my life. Permanently.”

  It was Mark who backed away. “Helen!”

  She closed in on him, running one long-nailed, jewel-laden hand along the side of his face. “Think about it. If he were…no more, then we’d be free. Free, Mark. Why, in just a short time it would be as we discussed. Our close business association could be seen to develop into something deeper and more personal.”

  “Helen, we’re talking about murder.”

  “We’re talking about justice!” Her voice was so sharp it sounded nearly brittle, her free hand gripping the lapel of his jacket tightly. “Justice for all the years of infidelity, for all he’s put me through, all he’s cost me and all I’ve had to suffer. And you could do it, Mark. You know how. You could make it look like he was killed by a jealous lover. Or a murder suicide. That would be fitting. Find one of those cheap floosies he’s so fond of and make it appear as if she killed him then herself.”

  “Helen, wait.” Mark peeled her off him. “Even if we eliminated Richard we still won’t be safe. Upon his death, Maxwell and Simon would own all of Weston except for the ten percent I own.”

  Helen’s face rearranged into an expression of thoughtful malice. “Damn Simon and his plots. There has to be a way, Mark. There just has to be.”

  Her expression brightened. “What if Maxwell were to be permanently institutionalized? You could arrange that. All we need is the original documents from Charles and Judge Bellamy, and another physician to verify the original diagnosis.”

  “Simon would never allow it, Helen.”

  She hissed and walked over to throw herself dramatically onto the divan, taking care to arrange her skirt and smooth out the wrinkles. “Would that I could go back in time,” she said softly.

  “Wishful thinking,” Mark replied and joined her on the divan. “But we can’t rewrite history. As much as we’d like to.”

  “I was such a fool,” she said. “I thought a momentary fling with that man, Lucien, would punish Richard for his continued infidelity. And punish you as well.”

  “I’ve never understood why you felt I needed to be punished. What was it that I did, Helen,
but love you?”

  “That was enough,” she answered. “Have you any idea how miserable it is to know love and know that you cannot acknowledge it without sacrificing your entire life?”

  “All too well. But I try not to dwell on it. Just as I try not to remember that night.”

  “Not one of our finest, I’ll admit,” she said. “If only we could find that implement. Do you think Richard has it, keeping it in the event that he might want to use it against us?”

  “No. If he had it, we’d have known long before now.”

  “Then where is it?”

  Mark shook his head. “Unless Simon managed to get his hands on it and secret it away for insurance, I have no clue what could have happened to it.”

  “Unless…” She gave him a pointed look.

  “No, it’s impossible. Maxwell couldn’t have gotten it. Besides, even if he did, he’ll never remember it.”

  “Oh Mark, what if his memory should return?”

  “Then we’re royally screwed.”

  She nodded and looked down at her hands, twisting the large diamond on her ring finger. “Perhaps it would be best if Richard and Maxwell died together. A tragic boating accident. Boats do occasionally explode, don’t they?”

  “Hell, we can’t even find Maxwell,” Mark replied.

  Nikki didn’t hear Mark’s reply. A groan from Max had her head whipping around to look at him. His body was stiffened out straight and his eyes had rolled back in his head.

  “Max!”

  No more had she screamed than he went into some kind of seizure, thrashing around with strange guttural sounds coming from him as his eyes rolled around like a wild animal.

  She tried to hold him still, but succeeded only in getting a fist to the side of the head that sent her tumbling to the floor.

  Max suddenly stopped thrashing around and slumped over on the couch.

  Simon rolled his wheelchair over beside the couch and felt for Max’s pulse. “His heartbeat is strong and steady. I don’t think he is in any immediate danger. And as you know from recent events, this type of episode is not without precedent in his life.”

  “Maybe not, but damn, Simon, he just heard his mother talk about killing him and his father,” she whispered. “What the hell kind of people are you, anyway? Doesn’t anyone around here love anyone else but themselves?”

  “We do stand as poor testament to humanity,” Simon replied. “But believe me, there is love here, Nikki. It is simply buried beneath years of lies, deceit and treachery.”

  “To say the least. Simon, we have to get him out of here. It’s not safe. And he doesn’t deserve this—not any of it.”

  “I agree, my dear. Completely. Please, just trust me a bit longer.”

  She nodded and sat down on the floor beside the couch, wondering just how much more Max would have to suffer to gain his freedom.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It had been nearly three days and so far Max had not regained consciousness. Nikki refused to leave his side. Louise brought her food and drink but she had no appetite. All she could do was think about how afraid she was he would not wake. And how she’d failed.

  She was so ashamed. She’d vowed to Danu that she would do anything necessary to protect the man she was assigned to safeguard. At first she’d wanted to rail against the injustice of fate, that she’d found her dream man in the form of someone damaged and incapable of having a normal relationship.

  Then hope had surged when she’d uncovered the truth. That Max was not damaged. Only that had opened a real can of worms. How to save someone who was being imprisoned by his own family, and a family with too much power and money to fight and win.

  But she’d held out hope. Especially when Max had started to come into his own again, to become the man who’d been buried inside for so long. She’d started to think that they had a chance. The discovery of the Stones and their magical effect had filled her with such dreams for the future.

  Now that hope lay unconscious and she knew no way to save him from the darkness that held him. She’d failed. Failed Max, failed Danu, failed everything.

  It tore at her so strong that it nearly crippled her. Another fit of sobbing claimed her. She climbed onto the bed and curled up beside Max. With her head on his chest, she cried until sleep finally claimed her.

  —

  Max opened his eyes and blinked. How did he get in bed? A frown creased his brow as he fought to dispel the fog that dimmed his thoughts. Little by little it came back to him. And with the return of the memory of the exchange he’d witnessed between his mother and Mark came the rebirth of other memories, those which had been buried deep.

  “Damn them,” he whispered and started at the sound of his own raspy voice.

  The start jostled Nikki, whose head lay on his chest. She cried out softly in her sleep. “Max, please wake up. I love you. Please come back to me.”

  The effects of the Stones were still with him. He could hear the torment in her mind, feel her fear and grief and pain.

  Tears welled in Max’s eyes. What had he ever done to deserve such love? It overwhelmed him. He eased out from under her and turned on his side to watch her sleep.

  At length he traced one finger along the side of her face. “Nikki,” he whispered then cleared his throat. “Nikki, baby, wake up.”

  Her eyes moved beneath the lids but did not open. “Baby, wake up. Open your eyes and look at me.”

  She blinked a couple of times then fully opened her eyes. “Max!” A smile of happiness claimed her face and she reached up to cup the side of his face. “Oh Max, I was so afraid.”

  “You don’t have to be afraid, my love.”

  Her mouth dropped open and her eyes grew round. She shot up into a sitting position as if she’d been catapulted. “Max! Oh god, Max! Did you? You can talk! Max, you can talk!”

  “And I remember,” he said.

  “Remember?”

  “What happened that night. The night Lucien was killed and I lost the ability to speak.”

  “Max, we have to tell Simon!” She started to get off the bed, but stopped and threw herself on him, covering his face with kisses. “You’re alive and you can talk!” She hugged him tightly. “Oh god, Max. You’re okay.”

  “I’m okay, babe,” he reassured her, and looked at her questioningly as she sat up.

  “God, Max,” she breathed. “You have the sexiest voice.”

  He grinned and pulled her to him to whisper in her ear. “You ain’t heard nothing yet, babe.”

  She giggled and pulled back. “Come on, let’s go give Simon the good news. Oh Max, he’s going to be so happy!”

  Like a child eager to get to the tree at Christmas to see what treasure awaits, she sprang off the bed. “Come on, hurry!”

  Max laughed, exulting in hearing the sound of his own voice. It was like waking from a nightmare. That thought brought another more sobering one. Now that he remembered, there were things to be done that were anything but pleasant.

  “Max?” Nikki ran to him in concern. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Come on, let’s find Grandfather.”

  Together they went in search of Simon, finding him in his study. “Look who’s awake,” Nikki announced as they entered the room.

  Simon put his hand to his heart. “Thank the stars. My boy, you had us quite frantic.”

  “I’m sorry, Grandfather.”

  Simon’s eyes bugged out. “Maxwell? Did you…did I…”

  “Yes, I can talk.” Max went and knelt down in front of his grandfather’s wheelchair. “I remember, Grandfather. What happened that night.”

  “Tell me.”

  Max rose and held out his hand to Nikki. They took a seat on the leather loveseat. Once seated, Max gave her a smile then turned his attention to Simon.

  “The night Lucien came to the estate, I was in my suite. The nurse wasn’t there. I thought that odd. I came downstairs to get something to drink and realized that no one was here. I started sear
ching the house. I heard voices from the terrace by the pool.

  “It was my mother and a man I’d never seen before. But I heard her call him Lucien. They were in the pool. Having sex. I saw an odd object lying on a cloth bag at the edge of the pool. It was dark except for candles on the table and sitting in groups along the edge of the pool. A very romantic setting.

  “As I stood at the doorway I heard someone walking down the hall. Footsteps on marble. I quickly slid around the corner and hid behind the pool bar.

  “My father walked outside and saw them.”

  Max paused, blew out his breath, closed his eyes and let the memory take him…

  The man held Helen against him. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, their lips crushed together in a passionate kiss.

  Richard stopped in the doorway. His face flushed a bright red at the sight of them in the pool. “You treacherous bitch!”

  His shout had Helen and Lucien immediately parting. “Richard!” Helen scrambled for the edge of the pool, reaching for a thick towel to cover her nudity. But before she could reach it, Richard had jumped fully dressed into the pool and grabbed Helen.

  In those days Richard was a fit and robust man. Helen stood no chance against him. She had time to scream before he shoved her under the water, cursing while he held her under. Lucien tried to stop him.

  Richard released Helen and turned on Lucien. Helen surfaced, sputtering and spitting water. Lucien had the upper hand in the fight. He was holding Richard under the water. Richard was thrashing about but his movements started getting weaker.

  Helen was screaming at Lucien to stop but he didn’t stop. Helen looked around and spotted the object on the side of the pool. She grabbed it up and came up behind Lucien. Twice she hit him on the back of the head with the object.

  The sound was sickening. Like a melon splitting. Once she’d started she didn’t seem to be able to stop. Long after Lucien had released Richard and fallen face first into the water, she continued to beat on him with the object.