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The Velvet Caress

Page 3

by C. P. Mandara

'God, Mark, I'm so sorry about what happened. I don't know who the hell would do something like that, but I hope you find him and tear off all the delicate parts of his anatomy slowly.'

  'Leyland, is there a point to this call, because I could do without exchanging pleasantries with you at this moment in time.' Talking to Leyland was annoying at the best of times, and now he had taken a shine to Jennifer, even more so. I was tempted to just hang up on him, but some inner sense told me to hang on and wait.

  'Yes, I have the results of your toxicology report.'

  'Fuck. Khalil went to you?' He might as well have approached the devil himself, he'd have probably offered much more reasonable terms.

  'Who else was going to be up at this time of the morning?'

  It was a good point. Why hadn't I thought of that?

  'In that case, thank you, and I'm almost sorry I hit you.' Almost.

  'No you're not.' He was right, I wasn't.

  'Leyland spit it out, time is of the essence.' Thankfully, the man didn't beat about the bush.

  'She's been poisoned by aconitine. Symptoms include paralysis, cardiac arrhythmia, vomiting, numbness, breathing difficulty… any of that sound familiar?'

  It sounded all too familiar. 'Look Leyland, can I call you back? I need to get this information to the doctor immediately.' I was already walking down the hall, beating a path through several wheelchairs and a stretcher.

  'I've already faxed a copy of the report to her doctor. Calm down. I've had confirmation that they've received it and are acting accordingly.'

  Taking in a lungful of air I put my hand against the side of the wall to steady myself. There were so many questions I needed to ask and I wasn't sure which ones should be given priority.

  'What's a lethal dose?' Although I didn't have an accurate idea of how much she'd ingested, judging by the small packet I'd found it couldn't have been very much, especially as she'd left half of it over the table.

  'Two milligrams of aconitine, possibly less, can be lethal. That kind of dose could cause death in just a few hours.'

  'Holy fuck.' I digested that for a couple of seconds. Jennifer was lucky to be alive, but I had no idea how much poison she'd put in her glass. Thank God it hadn't been the whole amount. If she'd taken the whole lot, I knew with absolute certainty that she'd be dead by now.

  'Is there a cure? An antidote?' My voice was breathless and my whole body tensed as I waited for an answer. There had to be a cure. I could not watch Jennifer die a slow and painful death. Already on my knees, there had to be a God out there who would not grind me into the dirt.

  'No.' Well, that took the floor out from under me. I thumped the wall a couple of times in utter desperation, and then closed my eyes.

  'Well, not exactly. Providing she hasn't been given a lethal dose she can survive, but there's no real antidote because the plant is highly toxic. It contains mesaconitine, hypaconitine, diterpenoid alkaloids, lycoctonine… I could go on.'

  'Don't,' I said firmly. 'What is the normal protocol for treatment of aconitine?'

  'Aconitine, also known as Monkshood, or Wolfs bane, was originally used as poison for arrowheads in the medieval period. As soon as the toxin entered the bloodstream it had the victim falling down paralysed within seconds. It's very similar to strychnine poisoning. Remember curare? Native Americans used it with blow darts to kill their prey. Aconitine works in the same way; it paralyses the respiratory system, leaving the victim unable to draw breath. It's pretty horrible stuff. To counteract it you need to dance with the devil. The doctors will probably try atropine or digitalis, which is an active agent in Belladonna. Belladonna is another of the world's most poisonous plants, but if she wants a fighting chance at survival this is probably the avenue they'll go down. Did she vomit initially?'

  'Yes, lots.' I guess I could be thankful for that, if you could ever be thankful for vomiting.

  'That's a good thing. Her body was trying to get rid of the poison.'

  Leyland continued talking to me for a few more minutes, but whilst I made the appropriate noises in the right places I barely listened to a word he said. Had Jen taken a fatal dose? Could they counteract it? And if they did manage to get her stable, would there be any lingering side effects? Only time would tell.

  'Mark, are you still there?' Leyland's voice was concerned.

  I realised I hadn't spoken in a while and banged my head against the wall before answering, 'I'm sorry, Leyland. I can't think straight at the moment. Jen crashed badly in the ambulance and I have no idea what's been happening since we got to the ER, because no one will let me anywhere near her.'

  'No news is good news. Hang in there, Matthews.' Easy for him to say.

  'I'm hanging,' I said wryly.

  'I'll just bet you are. Okay, I'd better be off, but if you need me you know where to reach me. As much as I detest your sorry ass, I'm half in love with your wife. If there's anything I can do, just call.'

  'Leyland, you son of a…' There was no point continuing my sentence because the line had already gone dead.

  That meant it was back to pacing and praying once again, whilst hoping that Leyland's news had come just in the nick of time to save my wife's life.

  Chapter Three - Mark

  Present Day

  When I entered the intensive care unit I was unprepared for the amount of tubes and wires that surrounded my wife. If that wasn't bad enough, she was hooked up to half a dozen machines that bleeped noisily and spat out wriggly lines.

  Less than two days ago Jennifer's skin had been glowing, and she'd been full of life. Now she had a grey pallor that spoke of sickness and decay, and she lay there motionless, as if she was almost waiting for death to come and claim her.

  'Is she…?' My voice choked up. I couldn't get the words past my throat. All I wanted to do was rip out all those wires and crush her close to my chest. She's alive, I told myself. It was more than I'd let myself hope for.

  'Is she going to be okay?' The doctor gently finished my sentence for me. 'We don't know yet. We managed to counteract some of the poison and get her heartrate under control, but she needs to regain consciousness before we'll know more. We thought you might like to sit with her for a few moments, though. Feel free to chat with her, on some level she may be able to hear you, and it may encourage her to wake up. Though I suspect she may be unconscious for a few more days yet. She's been through a particularly nasty experience and her body is trying its best to recover.' I nodded numbly and walked over to the chair beside her bed. 'I'll let you spend a little while with her, and we'll talk more later.' He then picked up the clipboard from the base of her bed, wrote something down, and made to leave.

  'Doctor?' My voice was rough with emotion. Whilst I knew Jennifer wasn't going to be in a good way when I walked into the room, she looked so frail right now I was almost afraid to touch her.

  He turned around and smiled sympathetically at me. 'Yes, Mr Matthews?'

  'What are her chances of making a complete recovery?' I had to ask the question. I knew the odds weren't going to be good, but I figured it was better to know what I was dealing with.

  'I honestly don't know, Mr Matthews. We don't see many instances of this kind of poisoning in the UK. Let's just hope she's a fighter and we'll take each day at a time.'

  'She is a fighter.' That much I knew. He gave me another quick smile and left me to my thoughts.

  Taking a deep breath I picked up Jennifer's lifeless hand and squeezed it tightly. She was so cold I immediately enveloped her hand in both of mine in an effort to warm her up.

  'Jen,' I whispered, 'where have you gone?' There was no answer bar the infernal beeps and bleeps that at least reassured me she was still alive. 'Are you coming back to me?' I wasn't sure if I was talking to her or myself, and it was eerily odd having a one-sided conversation, but I ploughed on, because there was something I needed to say. 'Jen, I have no idea if you can hear me, or even if you want me anywhere near you after what happened, but I need to tell you something impor
tant. It's an apology for everything I did to you, because I've just figured out that it was me in the wrong, not you. It took me long enough, didn't it?' I laughed ruefully and studied the ceiling in depth. Looking at Jennifer like this was too painful. 'You need to get better, and then we can get even with dear old Daddy. We'll take him down together. You need never fear that man again. Just please get well. I promise I'll never mention the word divorce ever again. Swear upon my honour. You just need to get better so I can apologise properly. Can you hear me, Jen? Get better. You need to fight this. I won't be able to live with myself if anything happens to you, and whilst I know that's no more than I deserve, I'd like a second chance to make it right. Please give me that chance. There won't be a man alive who'll take better care of you than me, I promise.' I squeezed her hand tightly again, but there was no response. I hadn't expected one. All I could hope for was a miracle, and I wasn't sure I deserved one.

  'Mr Matthews?' The nurse was back and her voice snapped me into the here and now. She stood awkwardly in her pristine blue dress and looked rather uncomfortable. I could hazard a guess as to why.

  'The police?'

  She nodded and wrinkled her nose at me. No one was a fan of the police, but they did have a job to do, and I would need to answer some questions in order to extricate myself from this mess. Hoping a lawyer would appear for me in very short order, I gave Jen's hand one last squeeze and kissed her cold, clammy cheek.

  'Hang in there,' I whispered, pressing my face into hers and closing my eyes.

  Now it was time to face the music.

  Chapter Four - Mark

  My lawyer was not waiting for me when the police detectives greeted me on the other side of the ICU. As I thought it unfair of myself to ask for more than one miracle in a day, I decided to take this setback on the chin. They were in for the silent treatment until my legal team decided to arrive, but that was their problem, not mine.

  'Officers.' I greeted them cordially, with a nod.

  'Mr Matthews. We'd like to ask you a few questions. Would you follow us, please?'

  It wasn't as if I had a lot of choice in the matter. If I made a run for it down the hospital halls they'd chase me down, arrest me, and then ask their questions. So following them was the most sensible option, even though I wasn't particularly keen on the idea.

  In short order I was taken to a small box room, tucked away in a remote corner of the hospital, and sat down on an uncomfortable plastic chair. In a couple of hours my backside would be numb, but hopefully I wouldn't be here for that long. Perhaps I was being overly optimistic.

  Ninety minutes later we were all done. I had refused to answer any questions without my lawyer being present, and though the police were unhappy about this they could do little but wait. Thankfully they weren't required to wait long. Ten minutes later a knock sounded at the door, and a snappy suit and briefcase announced that help had arrived.

  Both officers winced when the gentleman introduced himself as Jonathon Hammond, QC, as well they might. They weren't going to be having any fun and games with him present in the room. Although they fired off a series of pertinent questions aimed at accusing me of poisoning my wife, most of these were artfully deflected or dismissed out of hand by my counsel. When we'd completed all the rounds of questioning required, Jonathon did make the point that I'd have to be very stupid to poison my wife in a room full of witnesses, before helping her into an ambulance. The police officer in charge of the investigation didn't bat an eyelid.

  'Stranger things have happened,' he remarked, and I didn't disbelieve him. Thankfully they had no grounds to arrest me, but did enquire whether I had any plans to leave the country in the imminent future.

  'Not while my wife is on her deathbed,' I shot back, infuriated. Although Jonathon gave me a veiled warning in the form of a stern look I didn't care. It had been a long couple of days, and I was beyond exhausted. Feeling every bone in my body begin to ache, all I wanted was a soft place to lay my head for a few hours. Was that too much to ask?

  Reluctantly the officers let me go, but I knew it wouldn't be long before they came calling again. Nothing stayed secret in these parts for long.

  Stuck in an endless line of London traffic on the journey back to my estate, my foot tapped anxiously against the floor of the limo. The hospital had insisted I go home and get some rest, but I suspected they would also very much like me to take a shower. Why were hospitals so horribly warm? Probably in order to keep people on the brink of death alive, and wasn't that a sobering thought?

  Anyway, I did not smell pleasant and the Armani shirt I was currently wearing was going in the bin. Mind you, I wouldn't have left had I not had the assurance that I would be contacted immediately if there was any change in Jennifer's circumstances. I'd also had a security detail posted at her door. Although I didn't think Michael Redcliff wanted his daughter dead, after what had happened I wasn't prepared to take any further risks with her life. He was not getting anywhere near her without my say so.

  Although I was looking forward to getting under the hot tap, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I would not be getting any sleep tonight. Sleep was difficult enough normally, and now that my mind was racing once again it would be about as easy to find as platinum. I should know. I was heavily invested in a couple of South African mines. The truth of the matter was that I didn't want sleep. I wanted relief, and therein lay the problem.

  Yanking my cell out of my pocket, my hands paused above the numbered buttons, debating the wisdom of the call I was about to make. Sophia. The dream I'd had earlier came back to haunt me. Did I want this? Hell, that wasn't even the question. I needed this. Whilst I was aware that the taste of pain wouldn't wash away my sins, it would make me forget them for a while. Pain had a way of focusing your thoughts like nothing else could. Although I hadn't used her services for years I was craving them now. Sighing, I dialled her number. It might be that she wouldn't want me after all these years. I needed to bear that in mind. She probably had better fish to fry now, and it wouldn't surprise me if they were considerably younger than me. Sophia had a way of drawing men to her, like bees to a honey pot. She had some kind of animal magnetism or lure you were unable to resist. The trouble was that once you entered the spider's lair it was damn near impossible to escape. That was back then, though. I had escaped and now I was going back for more. That probably made me certifiably crazy, but I didn't care.

  'Mark? Are you okay?' Her throaty voice was laced with a touch of concern, and you didn't hear that very often from Sophia's lips. It was rare that you got anything more than a business-like tone from her, and if you did you were sleeping with her, though that never involved any sleeping from my limited experience.

  'I'm fine, Sophia.' It was my turn to pull the tone on her, although I knew it would be worthless. No one told Sophia what to do.

  'Is Jennifer okay?' Another amazing sentence doused with a liberal sprinkling of concern. Today I was truly blessed, although in all honesty I just wanted to get this conversation over with.

  'My, how fast gossip travels these days, or has it reached the papers yet?' The sarcasm dripped off my tongue.

  There was a long moment of silence, which usually happens when I've gone too far.

  'I'm sorry, Sophia. Jennifer's finally stable, but it's been a long couple of days.' I sighed.

  'I'll bet,' she said, not unsympathetically, and then back to the business-like tone I knew and loved. 'Is there anything I can do for you, Mark? You know you need only ask.'

  Oh, I knew that all too well. That was the trouble. Do or die, Matthews. Which is it to be?

  Taking a measured breath I said, 'I want a session, Sophia.'

  There was a very unladylike snort, and the sound of gurgling liquid. Coffee? In any case, it appeared I'd managed to shock Sophia, which should have made my day.

  'Are you serious?'

  No, I'm asking for kicks while my wife is on her deathbed. I then heard the clunk of a mug being set down. Better safe than s
orry, I guessed.

  'Of course I'm serious, but it's a one-time only offer and it expires midnight.'

  'How very apt. You shouldn't be doing this, you know. You should probably talk to Vincent.'

  Well, in a way I kind of had, and he wasn't impressed by the idea. It was sweet that she was trying to talk me out of this though. The woman wasn't a complete animal after all.

  'I don't want to talk to Vincent.'

  'Maybe I don't want to play with you.' The business-like tone had disappeared and she purred into my ear. Oh, Sophia. We both know how badly you want to play with me.

  'In that case I wish you a very pleasant evening and hopefully we'll catch up soon. Goodbye, Sophia.' It was my turn to be brusque. Without further ado I pressed the red end call button and severed our connection. Now the games would begin. There were only two possible outcomes. Either she wouldn't ring me back, or she would. My money was on the latter. Either way I'd left my evening in fate's hands, although I'd probably given it a sizeable nudge in the right direction. Or should that be the wrong direction? Did I even care?

  Now I just had one more call to make. Scrolling through my cell phone contacts I found the one I was looking for and waited for him to pick up.

  'Afternoon, Matthews. What can I do for you?' I rolled my eyes. Here I was, once again dancing with the enemy who was soon to become my best friend. Someone had turned the world upside down while I was out cold back at the hospital, I was sure of it.

  'I was wondering if you'd like a fun little assignment?' I knew I'd pique his interest with that, so I just sat there and waited for him to take the bait.

  'Does it pay?' It was amusing that those were the first words out of his mouth. It didn't, but he'd probably take the job anyway.

  'No.'

  'Doesn't sound like much fun then.' My lips twitched. They couldn't help themselves.

  'It involves one of my very beautiful ex-employees and I know you've been dying to get your hands on one for years, Forbes.'

  There was a pause as Leyland considered my offer, but I knew he'd bit as soon as I heard the words, 'I'm listening.'

 

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