It had to do with her son:
Priscilla told Madeleine what Edmond was doing to me and Conall.
And then Madeleine stopped shouting, stopped denying, and started listening.
She stood still, mouth open, stunned.
“Leora? That sweet, young girl? The one who talks such fine English?”
Her hand went to her mouth. Her lips quivered.
And then she got angry.
Who would have thought?
It had not been talk of other women.
It had been the idea that her husband would stoop so low as to break up such a “sweet” and “loving” relationship. Madeleine’s words.
A tear broke loose from Madeleine’s eyes, Priscilla told me later.
And then all hell broke loose, in the form of a woman scorned.
-5-
Later, the story was told to us like this:
Madeleine faced him that evening. She told him she knew about the women, the drugs, all of it. She told him she’d always known.
He denied it.
Priscilla was there, in another room, just in case he got violent. Horace had arranged it. Priscilla’s a hard woman to say no to.
Voices were raised. Glasses were smashed.
Madeleine Williams kept screaming—years of pent-up anger, betrayal, shame, loss.
Edmond remained haughty, proud. Until his wife mentioned Vivienne. “You protect the very same men who killed our daughter! The same kinds of men! You condone the loss of little Viv!”
And here, shockingly, unexpectedly, Edmond Williams stopped talking.
He staggered back, as if hit by a bullet.
“It was the likes of your connections who pulled the trigger that went into our daughter’s heart!”
Madeleine Williams’s words were pure venom, filled with hate, biting and deadly.
“It is the likes of your connections that keep your other son hooked on a powder that will one day kill him! And yet, the one member of this family that has some pride, some decency, some heart, you go out to destroy. You go out to destroy his love, a love like you and I once had—before I discovered your proclivity for the legs and vaginas of other women! Do you remember that love, Eddie!? Do you!?”
“Please, dear, please...enough.” He had his hands to his head, as if the truth of his crimes had come suddenly to haunt him and crush him!
“Oh, no, it is not enough! I have had enough. For a decade, I numbed the pain, I buried my fears and doubts in pills that not even a horse should be taking they are so strong! I’ve kept myself from slitting my wrists only because I’ve enjoyed the few times that Conall has seen us and shown us what a fine young man he has become! I live for those moments! You would be stunned at how much I am willing to suffer in this house, just holding on to the hopes of seeing my little boy, and what a gentleman he has turned into!”
“Madeleine, please, stop. I did it for our family. I did it—”
“And then, that girl, a wonderful lady! Leora—with a lovely name. She is kind. She is caring. She is sweet. And she loves him, you fool!”
“Their love is a farce!”
“She loves him! As I loved you!”
“Madeleine...”
“AND YOU SPIT ON THEIR LOVE AS IF IT WERE PUTRID FILTH! YOU are the filth!”
“Madeleine, enough!”
He took a gun out.
“You should be ashamed— And now? What will you do with that—shoot me?”
“Madeleine. I did it for us. I was only trying to help—”
“You did it for yourself!”
“We are a proud family! Our name is sacred!”
“Drugs...in front of our children! Sex! Orgies! It is a miracle Conall turned out as well as he did!”
“It was a mistake, Maddie. I promise. Vivienne was never supposed to have seen—”
“Oh, put that thing away, Eddie!”
“You’re right. You’re right!”
He started sobbing.
He fiddled with the gun.
“Call off your dogs, Edmond. And let your son live the life— Edmond. What are you doing? What—”
“I’m sorry, Maddie. I am.”
“No— EDMOND, STOP!”
BOOM.
He didn’t stop.
-6-
There was a piercing shriek at the top of a woman’s lungs.
Priscilla ran into the study!
Madeleine had her hands to her mouth, wailing at the top of her voice. And Edmond was on a seat, half his head dangling off him like torn leather. Red, sticky ooze poured from the side of his gaping cranium. His jaw was slack. His body was leaning slightly to the left. Priscilla said she actually even heard the glug-glug-glug of the pouring blood there was so much of it. She said she remembers it vividly. It would be an image forever imprinted in her mind and nightmares. The dragon tapestry behind him had new blotches of scarlet and brown sprayed across the bottom right corner of it.
Madeleine wept into Priscilla’s chest. “It’ll be OK, honey. It’ll be OK. I’ll help you, I promise. I’ll help you through this. We’ll get through this together, I swear it.”
It’s a promise Priscilla would be sure to keep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
-1-
After the shooting, Horace rushed in. Priscilla asked if she should leave. She was afraid of what might be said. At which point some men in suits stormed in.
Priscilla and Madeleine were surrounded.
The men had guns out. I’m sure they were the same men who’d surrounded me at that park when Edmond had spoken to me.
Priscilla’s heart palpitated.
Madeleine stood still, a cold sweat breaking on her skin.
There was a moment of silence, each person looking at the other, wondering what would happen next.
One of the suited men frowned, took a step forward, and pointed his gun upwards—at Priscilla.
Priscilla’s heart raced. Madeleine started to shout, “No—”
But then something happened, something Madeleine had not counted on, but which Priscilla had been counting on from the moment she’d pressed the panic button that Trey had given her!
Trey and “Clint Eastwood” and Keith “Bup” Spiderman arrived.
And the men in suits were surrounded in turn!
Horace had arranged it that Trey’s team could get in without having to break down any doors! They’d been waiting outside for a panic button alert from Priscilla should anything go wrong. Priscilla had pressed it the moment she’d heard the gunshot!
“Clint Eastwood” packed a Beretta 92-A1 pistol and held it openly.
Keith Spiderman packed nothing but his fists.
Smokey wasn’t in the room, because Smokey was outside, about seven hundred yards away—looking through the sites of an M40 US Marine Corps sniper rifle which was currently aimed at one of the suited men’s hearts.
Trey told them as much.
The men in suits stepped back, looked at each other, swallowed, and then put their guns away.
They then told Priscilla and Madeleine what to say to the press—and threw in a veiled warning that, if that’s not what the ladies told the press, the suited men “could not be held responsible for anything that might happen to them.”
The men in suits left, exchanging resentful glances with Trey and his team.
And so the story was written, before the incident was even completely over.
Each of the suited men had worn a gold ring with a DL on it.
Priscilla notices these things.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
-1-
I could fly back and see Conall now. But I didn’t need to. Because he flew over to see me the moment he could.
We held each other for what felt like an eternity.
My dad and Luciano left us alone in the bomb shelter—for three days.
-2-
A Great Loss for England, went the British headlines.
Top 50 Wealthiest Men Dies at 60
&n
bsp; Britain Mourns an Honourable Life
The funeral was televised. Commentators spoke about the harshness of depression, how it should be taken seriously, how Edmond Williams suffered secretly with it for years, never burdening anyone outside of his “circle” with his problems. They mentioned how members of the Williams family were unavailable for comment except for the new heir to Williams Holdings, Francis P. Williams, who said, “The loss of my father is a great tragedy. I will be sure to uphold his virtue, his love for business, his philanthropic efforts. And I will be certain to continue in the tradition of all great men in this country, men like my father and his many friends. Fear not, father, your legacy lives on.”
Conall turned the TV off.
We were in the living room of his Crawley Down home.
He held me. And a chill coursed through me. A deep chill, like it wasn’t over. Like it would never be over.
But it was. At least for now.
Edmond Williams had killed himself out of shame, this much is evident from the reports of those who were there. But the newspapers always get it wrong, especially when they’re run by friends of the late Edmond Williams. Because Edmond Williams had been about as “depressed” as a pig in a mud puddle. But, hey, it makes a good story. So that’s how they wrote it.
-3-
Everything was bequeathed to Francis Williams. Everything. It had been part of the deal for Francis to spy on our gang, which had been the reason Francis had started stalking us. Edmond had indeed tracked him down after Conall had told his father he’d seen Francis.
Francis relayed the news to his father of him meeting his brother in Hyde Park. Edmond had then “plugged in” to the wiretaps on our phones and had heard me calling Trey shortly after. As Trey mentioned, if it had been Conall running this operation, those phone-taps would have been monitored one hundred percent of the time, but it hadn’t been. That call, however, Edmond had indeed listened in on.
Francis had ensured that Edmond’s Final Will and Testament had been changed as part of the deal to spy on us. Perhaps Edmond had ideas of changing it back at a later stage, but now it’s too late.
I do believe Alex was softening Francis’s heart. I think that Francis did try and spy on us all as a group at first (that night at Kayla’s bachelorette party, for example), but when Alex started talking to him, I think he just told his father he was still watching us, when he was actually only spending time with her. I think it bought us all some time.
Francis was last seen hosting a sumptuous gala event at the Williams estate. Its purported purpose was the raising of funds for philanthropic efforts in Africa—a new drug that will help the African people deal with Ebola or HIV or malaria or, heck, you can always find something to use a drug on!
The newspaper covering the event said Francis seemed “under the weather” (because he was sniffling a lot), but otherwise was in good spirits.
There was a photo of him shaking hands with Reginald Langford, both smiling brightly.
Francis wore a ring that said DL on it.
So did Reginald.
“Francis will keep up the family tradition grandly,” Conall said.
-4-
Despite Conall’s front, I saw that he’d taken the loss of his father badly. “He was never much of a father to me,” he said. But I saw the ache in his eyes, the sadness of how it might have been had he grown up differently.
He went to the gym many times, sparred it out endlessly with Trey; hit the punching bag until his knuckles bled.
I’d ease my fingers through his hair and kiss his lips when he was done most nights.
And then I’d hold him tightly, willing with every fiber of my body for him to feel better somehow.
He’d hold me back. Sometimes he’d shiver slightly, but he’d never let me ago until I eased my grip first.
And that’s saying something.
-5-
Four days later, I found Conall hunched over his desk in the dark, fighting back tears.
I went to him and put my arms around him. And I heard a muffled gasp. It’s only the second time since I’ve known him that I’ve seen him weep.
We stayed like that for several minutes.
He brought me down to his lap, and I felt his body shudder underneath me.
He kissed my neck. I felt the wetness of his eyes scrape over my skin. I kissed his forehead, ran my fingers over his ears.
I stood, stretched my hand out to him. He took it, got off the seat, and we went up the stairs to his bedroom.
It was dark, and we left the lights off.
He rode me quietly, no words spoken, no screams uttered.
The bed creaked. Our breaths huffed in unison.
When I felt his warmth seep into me, I thought of New Life.
Maybe it was time for that now.
And if not right now, then soon...
EPILOGUE
-1-
Freckly Troy came crawling back on his knees to Dani. Literally. He called her up and told her he’d been wrong, that he missed her, that she was the best damn girl to ever whip him with a stick while having sex. (Dani was pretty sure she’d been the only one to ever do that! Freckly Troy is not that experienced.) Dani made him come over to her new apartment (just down the road from us) and made him crawl.
On his knees.
But Dani had other plans. So after Freckles did said crawling, she told him to get lost or else she’d pull out the whip for real and make him beg her to release him.
He left.
She hasn’t seen him since.
-2-
Explaining my disappearance to Carlo Fabiano had been the most difficult. Within our inner circle, everybody knew the truth.
But Carlo was different. With the information he had, it just seemed like I’d up and left. And none of us were willing to mar Conall’s name to someone outside our group, as a result of his father’s actions.
I went and saw Carlo. I told him I’d been threatened. I told him I’d been forced to leave for fear of my friends’ lives. He looked at me suspiciously. “What...like-eh mafia?” He did that Italian hand-gesture thing.
“Uhm, kinda.”
“Why you no call me! I could-eh help!”
“I, uhm, couldn’t call anyone.”
“Why not?”
“Well...I thought I was being...monitored.”
He stopped frowning. Enlightenment filled his face. “Ah! Not-eh Mafia—da government!”
He took me back without any further questions.
-3-
Kayla had surpassed me in training. I’d lost a lot of time. But I worked hard, put in late hours. It’s my goal to start my own fashion line one day. And it’s also my goal to have a child one day.
I’m almost twenty now. I need to get a move on, because I’m getting old.
-4-
Jackie was found. Alive. Delirious—huddled under a tree while rain poured on her as she sat there in a gray tee-shirt and white underwear. There was a dilapidated shed nearby. Embers from a day-old fire burned inside it.
She couldn’t remember what had happened to her, or anything of the previous week.
Tests revealed psilocybin (“magic mushrooms”), traces of THC (marijuana), and other illicit drugs in her blood. She swears she never took drugs and insists that someone must have fed them to her. Incriminating photos of her at a party surfaced at around the same time as she was found, thereby discrediting her story.
No sign of sexual foul-play was found.
She was discovered after an anonymous tip to the police was placed the day after Edmond Williams had shot himself.
The incriminating photos of her appeared on the internet at around the same time.
She is now at home recovering.
-5-
We never heard from Pedro again. Trey swears he had nothing to do with that.
Honest.
-6-
Trey and Alex are now officially trying for a kid. All I can tell you is that Alex always looks exha
usted during our Saturday get-togethers.
Albeit, satisfied.
-7-
Dani’s currently playing the crowd, playing the scene.
Conall told her she needed to get her own place because the noises she was making from her room every night (every night!) were keeping us awake.
She now stays in an apartment down in the village a few minutes’ walk from us.
No neighbors have yet complained.
-8-
Madeleine Williams is in Zermatt, Switzerland, under the experienced care of Dr. Gehrig. He’s weaning her off those dangerous medications and giving her good old fashioned counseling where you actually get to talk about your problems and fears and losses and simply have a caring ear who really listens and understands. You know, like what good friends do.
The progress is slow, but the shine is coming slowly back into her eyes from what I’ve been told. Who told me? Well, Kayla’s mom, of course. She’s there with her.
And she hasn’t seen Pedro either.
-9-
Speaking of Kayla’s mom, business is still booming in New York. Her London contacts opened her eyes as to the wealth and glamour available in the UK for people in her line of work. So she’s starting up a branch here as well—with a twist. She’ll be working a little closer with Trey from now on. Because, you know, you never know if someone might be screwing with her little girl. And Priscilla Mitchell, much like her daughter, doesn’t take shit from anybody.
If there’s one thing that’s sure, it’s that men talk in the bedroom. And Priscilla and her girls are experts at making them talk. The CIA should take note. Maybe they’d torture less people if they met her.
-10-
Smokey and Keith “Bup” Spiderman and “Clint Eastwood” continue to live humble lives, hanging out at Smokey’s, the London bistro where nothing ever gets planned and no secret intelligence and sting operation meetings ever get held.
Deep South (Naive Mistakes #4) Page 18