by Ian Kidd
CHAPTER TWO
"Are you going to tell me what I'm actually here for?" Jack Vance demanded. "Or are you going to offer me a few more biscuits and continue playing Teddy Bears Tea Party all day?"
"Right, well, then," Julius straightened up in his seat. "I have reason to believe Carol Braithwaite may still be alive."
Jack's lips curled up into a leer. "You saw the body."
"I saw a mangled, mutilated mess with blonde hair," Julius responded. "Perhaps my confidence in your supreme abilities was misplaced."
"Are you insulting my professional abilities?" Vance sneered. "If you like I could perform a demonstration right here - on you."
"I don't think that will be necessary," Julius coughed. "You know I have faith in you - after all, you were the only one that stuck around in the aftermath of the Aaron explosion, and of course, saved my life by picking me up in your craft. But I have irrefutable evidence that she is alive."
"I killed her," Jack said coldly. "Have no doubt. I ripped her apart with my bare hands - she is not alive."
"Well somebody wearing her face is - and don't say her twin sister. She does have a twin, but they are from identical - I checked. And yet Miss Braithwaite was seen in Maltby yesterday," Julius informed him. "It would seem likely that she intends to contact Ian's Gang - or more specifically Matthew Parker. I want her stopped."
"I don't know who she is - but she's not Carol Braithwaite," Vance assured him. "She's dead."
"Of course she is," Julius smiled. "I want her dead, Jack. I want her eliminated - if she points the finger at me, all hell will break loose. We will both be exposed - and if I go down believe me when I say you will be dragged down with me."
"Don't worry about it," Jack replied. "Whoever the hell is - she'll be dead by tomorrow night."
"You're not Carol?" Matthew could hardly believe it as he and the blonde girl talked in the back of the van.
"I'm sorry if I gave you a bit of a turn," 'Carol' smiled. "It was a necessary subterfuge."
"Who are you then?" Matthew demanded.
"Who do you think, Matty Fatty?"
Matthew looked at her in disbelief. "Claire? Claire Braithwaite?!"
"Nice to see you too, Matt."
"But - "
"I had plastic surgery," Claire told him.
"But why?"
"To draw Carol's killer out into the open," Claire told him. "We've had information her murder was arranged by the Bad Ian."
"What?! Why?"
"Remember that family party he gatecrashed? Trying to get Carol to come away with him? I don't even think he liked her, I think he just wanted to take her away from you. He's a mad bastard, jealous of everyone and everything."
"I suppose..." Matthew sighed. "But Claire, even if that's true, there's no need for all this - the Bad Ian's dead."
"How do you know?"
"He was ejected into space a few months ago and cut to bits by flying pieces of rock," Ian called from the front.
"If that's what you think." Claire smiled, "then you're in for a hell of a shock."
Matthew frowned.
"Everybody, this is Claire Braithwaite," Matthew was introducing Carol's sister to the rest of the gang. Robert seemed unable to look her in the eye. "She looks like Carol for reasons that will become clear later," he paused, looking uncertain, "er, I would - "
"I think it would be prudent at this point to leave Matthew and Carol alone to discuss things," Ian frowned, "don't you?"
"Oh definitely, quite, wisest course of action, bloody hell it was just starting to get interesting, what they gonna do have a shag?" were several responses as the gang filed out, leaving Matthew and Claire alone, Robert casting a surreptitious glance at her as he did.
"This is a bit weird," Matthew said, sitting down. "I look at you and I see Carol, even though I know you're not. It - it's really weird."
"Carol always said you had a sensitive side," Claire told him. "I've never seen it before, though. All I saw was that big, jovial loudmouth with bags of money. I wanted to marry you myself," she laughed. "Why didn't you come to the funeral?"
"It sounds corny, but I just couldn't face it," Matthew sighed. "I was crazed at the time, couldn't accept what had happened. I made myself believe that if I didn't go, she wouldn't be dead," he shook his head. "Nuts. I guess I really lost it for a while there."
"You must have loved her very much," Claire patted his hand, but noticed him looking at her oddly, and pulled away. "So," she began brightly, "want to hear my scheme to get Julius?"
Matthew shook himself. "Oh, yeah, sure."
"Want to get married?" Claire demanded.
Matthew looked up in surprise. "Hunh?"
Morning.
"So what happens is," Matthew was addressing the gang in the kitchen while they were all having breakfast. Most of them were ignoring him. "Me and Claire - "
"Claire and I," Ian reproved.
"Shut up," Matthew told him. "Me and Claire announce our engagement in the local paper - but she will be referred to as Carol Braithwaite, not Claire. We also announce the location of our wedding - perhaps letting it slip out 'accidentally' that after the actual wedding, Carol will make an announcement identifying her 'attempted' killers. The church we are to get married at will have very lax security, to make it the most tempting place to strike - probably one of the Bad Ian's men will make the attempt rather than the man himself, in which case we don't kill him, but capture him and force him to testify. If by some miracle Julius himself does show up, then I will kill him - entirely accidentally of course."
"I just want you to know," Police Chief Steven Brick walked, uninvited, into the kitchen, "I heard all that. As an officer of the law, I really cannot be seem to officially condone or endorse what you plan to do."
"Then piss off," Matthew told him.
"But as long as you don't tell anyone I know, I'm fine with it," Steven grinned.
"Who's going to be your best man?" Ian inquired.
"Robert, of course," Matthew replied. Robert looked pleased.
"What about me?" Ian demanded.
"For one thing, Ian," Matthew told him, "this is a fake wedding - and for another, I just don't like you very much."
Ian looked hurt.
"We are expecting trouble," Claire spoke up, "perhaps even before the wedding - although we have tried to make the church the most attractive place to attack."
"You appreciate you're putting your own life in danger?" Ian asked.
"Of course I do," Claire replied, "but my sister is dead, and her killer is walking around free. I'm willing to risk almost anything to see that son-of-a-bitch pay."
"Hey, that's my mother you're talking about," Ian objected.
"Steve," Claire said sweetly, "you wouldn't mind taking this note to the paper, would you?"
"Of course not, Claire," Steve replied, taking the note from her, "I always wanted to be a bloody messenger boy."
"Don't forget to subtly drop in about me naming my assassins," Claire reminded him.
"Claire," Matthew snorted, "I think you're asking the wrong person if you want subtlety."
"Hey watch it, bollock brain," Steve interrupted. "I can be as subtle as the next shit-for-brains," he stomped away. "Talk about cheek," he was heard to mumble, "me not subtle? What fucking crap!"