DiMera Mansion

Tony strolled into the kitchen without saying a word to Harold and proceeded to the counter where he poured his own coffee.

Good a time as any, Harold told himself as he stared at the man's back. "I'm afraid your brother wasn't satisfied with the explanation you afforded him earlier. He said he'd be back. Tonight."

Tony slid the carafe back onto the warming pad. "Of course." He looked over and flashed a wry smile at the butler. "Elvis fears I've reached my limit with the old man and my primary reason for coming back involves engineering murder and mayhem."
"You never know, he might find that a more tolerable solution than the one you and Donovan cooked up."
"So would I…if I believed for an instant it would take."

The continuous array of jokes these people tossed about when it came to death had amused Harold up to this point but he wasn't really in the mood tonight and his expression had a sobering effect.

"Sorry."
Tony's regret appeared rather more genuine than his brother's and Harold couldn't help thinking he ought to be after setting this up, but his censure didn't faze the Count.

"I did respect your partner…"
"Maybe, but it didn't stop you from using him, did it?"

It wasn't uttered with rancor especially and Tony did him the courtesy of being frank.
"No."

Momentarily, the two men eyed each other from where they stood and slowly, Harold accepted the fact that no matter what Tony's motives or actions, Rafe would have exercised the influence he'd hung onto in order to secure this assignment. Tony simply made it a little easier. He'd not coerced Rafe into accepting it, and he certainly wasn't the one responsible for Rafe's past. That was the reason his partner was dead tonight, Harold reminded himself, more than any action on the part of the Count, or his father.

But accepting these circumstances didn't rule out the possibility of Tony doing what he felt necessary since what mattered to him was coming out the winner in this shell game. And that meant he'd make sacrifices, and if one of them ended up being Harold, he'd follow through… distressed perhaps but follow through nonetheless and it wasn't by any means a new development. Tony had been candid about his loyalties from the beginning.

"So is my father still…sleeping?"
Harold nodded. "And the doctor is up in the laboratory, but I'd go armed if I were you."
"Yes, I'd imagine the good doctor is getting pretty desperate about now."
"And he's had plenty of time to think up any number of elaborate tales to save his as… uh, skin."

Tony glanced back down at his cup and decided it needed sugar. The stuff tasted as ghastly as the slop served at the hospital and the police precinct in the wee hours of the night. Harold was an excellent butler and an even better spy, but his coffee tasted vile enough that Tony had joked about it to Shane and two old friends amused themselves coming up with various uses for it...like embalming solution when Stefano's end finally arrived.

And how pampered you've become, he told himself with biting laughter. Back to civilization not even a couple of years and taking things for granted. And after two decades of being marooned. He remembered days back on the island when he'd dreamed of coffee, though honestly, not any that tasted like this.

As he dropped a tablespoon of sugar into his mug, he forced himself to concentrate once more on the dilemma Dr. Baker posed. The ideal pawn dropped into their lap at the very moment they needed him the most, and so Tony had been debating whether or not he ought to risk pumping him for information. It wouldn't exactly be prudent. They needed him to fool Stefano into believing Andre was still alive. That was the key here, making it appear Andre had turned on the hand that fed him, and meant to dispense his own revenge, which given Andre's temperament, would be bloody.

And should the secret Stefano guarded so zealously turn out to be as Tony and Shane suspected; the old man's haste would be his undoing. He'd be desperate to beat Andre to the punch…and so, lead Shane straight to the cache.

And yet for any of this to work, Stefano had to be absolutely convinced.

Originally, it was a charade which hadn't included Baker and could still work without him. Tony had known his cousin all two well, and inhabiting the devil's skin for a few hours, all to beat Stefano at his own game was an opportunity simply too delicious to pass up, except that now, having caught Rafe in the house and no doubt connecting that misstep with Rolf's continued absence, Stefano would be wary of a trap.

Tony had known the old man too long to bother with trying to alter Stefano's frame of mind. Let him see a trap, as long as it was the wrong one. And the position Baker found himself in could do just that... point Stefano in the direction that suited Tony's purpose, not to mention, fit the old man's paranoia splendidly. After three decades waiting for Andre to try something like this, Stefano would eagerly swallow the bait. The doctor had the means Andre would have required to fake his death and it appeared he also had motive and a willingness to sell his own mother for the kind of fortune that would have been waved under his nose.

The man was truly a snake…in the wrong place at the wrong time, but still a snake and just the kind of partner Andre would have chosen.

Tony chanced a sip from his cup and his expression clearly registered his distaste, with the coffee and the situation. The surest way to make this work was to keep Baker off kilter. If Tony paid him a visit masquerading as his cousin, and proved to Baker the man was alive and busy setting him up to take the fall, Baker would get desperate and desperate men made mistakes, especially when confronted by an angry Stefano DiMera.

Problem was, Stefano's reaction. He might keep the man alive if he were interested in a lead to Andre, or just as likely, he'd lose his temper and kill Baker on the spot.

Shane wouldn't be pleased with that scenario.

And there was another quandary holding Tony back as well. The doctor had obviously been hired to fill in for the absent Rolf and could very well be the only person with some of the information Tony needed…and perhaps a way to curtail Stefano's plans for EJ

Despite what he'd told Shane, that it would all be over by tomorrow morning, Tony couldn't scour the words he'd read in that text from his mind, or stop worrying about the implications.

It was one thing for Stefano to come after him. They had a history. Sick, and twisted, and one neither had any intention of putting to rest because for his part, Tony knew his father. Leave the man unchecked and his ego would destroy them all. How much had he robbed Tony of already, not to mention the others…all gone because of Stefano and his power hungry games, and merely the idea of watching EJ added to that list infuriated him beyond measure.

The old man had gone too far this time, and that led him back to the oily Dr. Baker.

And squeezing optimal mileage out of him…

Perched up at the opposite end of the island dominating the kitchen, Harold observed the play of emotions on the Count's face with a degree of fascination. He'd known the man almost six months now and still he remained an enigma. The moment Harold assumed he had this eldest DiMera son figured out, Tony would do something quite startling. Not overly flamboyant, or unnecessary but the Count's disposition reversed itself with little or no warning, and to date, Harold's only handle on his personality came down to a matter of instinct.

And at the moment, those instincts pointed directly to the curious family spat Tony had going on with EJ.

The younger DiMera and his brother weren't exactly rivals for their father's attention as happened so often. In fact, they were virtual strangers to some degree. And their age disparity only reinforced the issue since accepting Tony's advice tended to make EJ behave as though he were being torn between a conflicting set of parents. It heaped guilt on the young man's shoulders that Harold imagined he didn't know how to handle. Easier in his mind to keep his brother at arm's length.

And even Rafe had seen it…

"Oh come on, he doesn't even want to hear any of this shit. Why should he? The old man chose him…"
"A pattern in this family that leads to disastrous ends," Harold pointed out.
"Maybe but EJ isn't going to see it that way for obvious reasons."
"Being?"
Rafe shrugged. "You mean besides the past he'd rather not hear about? The guy has fucking buried his head in the sand, if you ask me."
"So you think he's protecting the life Stefano has afforded him."
"Or just as likely, he and the old man have their own secrets and Elvis couldn't have missed what his brother would think of that."

Despite his prejudices, Harold found his partner's observations about everyone in the family pretty accurate though he'd not paid all that much attention to the idea that EJ was hiding things from Tony…not until the altercation he'd had with EJ himself, earlier.

And in the heat of the moment, he'd assumed it was all about Stefano.

Now he wasn't so sure. Elvis demanded he be allowed to talk to Baker, and when Harold refused, instantly wanted to know what shenanigans Tony was up to and the more he thought about it, the more convinced Harold became that EJ's concern had to do with what Baker might reveal…to the wrong person.

Which meant, if he'd sent Elvis up there, Baker would be dead already, and Tony none the wiser. Who among the family would question EJ's motives considering the doctor lied about the paternity of one daughter and possibly murdered the other?

Harold sucked in a deep breath and did his best to remain calm. Just what they needed around here, another potential ticking time bomb. Damn, this family was insane. Nothing but a bloody minefield and it seemed all those involved were busy hiding their own treacherous secrets. And God help the fools who blundered upon them.

"Shane would prefer we keep him alive."

The remark brought Harold's focus back to the Count. He'd carried over his coffee and was leaning against the island on the other side along with the box he'd shown up with not thirty minutes earlier. It was a plain, unadorned container with room enough to hold any number of objects, perhaps a family heirloom though Harold was betting on the remains of a certain person few if any in this town would bother grieving over.

"Being you knew your cousin's tendencies," he began carefully, "if the man were alive and Baker assisted him, what would your father expect Andre to do?"
"To Baker?"
Harold nodded.
"Perhaps we should ask him," laughed Tony, patting the box as a lopsided grin brightened his face and when Harold didn't respond or smile, he looked even more amused. "No?" He shook his head at the butler. "When it comes to this family, losing your sense of humor will be the end of you."

Though he was probably right, Harold simply wasn't in the mood to clown around.

Tony lifted the mug to take another sip of coffee and then set it back down impatiently. "Stefano has believed from day one that he had a handle on Andre's limits." Harold detected no levity in the Count's laughter this time. "Truth is, my cousin had none, and if he had no more use for Baker, the man would be dead...so, the trick is either to convince Stefano of his demise, or conjure up a reason why Andre required his continued assistance and the only logical answer for that would be a diversion."

Harold hesitated momentarily and then taking a deep breath, acted on his hunch. "I think you need to speak to Baker."
"As my cousin, you mean."
"No."
Tony raised an eyebrow and waited curiously, his head cocked to one side.
"I don't think your brother is coming back here tonight out of worry exactly, at least not in regards to what you have planned for Stefano..."
"If not, he put on quite the performance back at the convent."
"He demanded I tell him where Baker was locked up."
Tony glanced down and considered Harold's news and then nodded. "Well, that makes sense. I told him about the switch Baker pulled the day Sydney was born and he read the text Rafe sent. He's angry...and scared. Or at least he ought to be."
"And maybe concerned as well that Baker is privy to secrets you're not aware of...yet."

Tony opened his mouth to snap back at the butler, tell him such accusations were ludicrous but on second thought, stifled the impulse. If there was one thing he'd learned about EJ's personality over the last eighteen months, it was the extent to which Stefano had the boy wrapped about his little finger. That along with EJ's unbending silence about his past. Broaching the subject could bring any conversation between them, public or private, to a screeching halt and on the few occasions EJ had surprised him and opened up, his comments were sparse. The subject remained an awkward one. In fact, at times, Tony got the feeling that EJ resented his brother intruding on a relationship that the younger man felt he shared exclusively with his father.

Jealousy Tony could understand.

And whether EJ chose to accept it or not, Tony had no desire to be in his brother's shoes having already spent his share of hell in that position, with the full weight of Stefano's expectations dumped on his shoulders.

He'd experienced where that slippery path invariably led.

Elvis hadn't, at least not to the extent necessary and unfortunately, the boy possessed his full share of the DiMera talent for hubris. And it pained Tony more than he would have guessed a short year ago. He didn't enjoy the thought that like the rest, only a tragedy would wake EJ up to the trap the old bastard had laid out for him.

"What did you burden him with, Father?" he muttered under his breath.
"Perhaps Baker can tell you," suggested Harold, who'd been watching him keenly.
"Baker." Tony's laughter was cold. "Stefano's secrets are a bloody sight more precious to him than his children," he explained to Harold, bitterly. "And yes, I've considered the doctor knows something, but it won't include the entire story by a long shot."
"But he is an MD after all...one who was present for the birth, or should I say the end of two pregnancies in which Elvis was the father."
Tony's eyes narrowed. "Obviously you've given this some thought."
"Yes," admitted Harold. "Like I said, your brother wasn't just upset after what you'd told him earlier at the convent. He insisted on seeing the man..."
"That's not exactly odd under the circumstances."
"And when I refused," continued Harold as soon as Tony was done interrupting, "he slammed me into a wall. Now, given what we've learned about Baker, I might have ignored his behavior only when I told him we needed to use the doctor..." Harold paused and met Tony's intense stare. "there was a moment when I could swear, the idea of either of us talking to the man, alarmed him."
"The two of us? Or Stefano?"
Harold considered Tony's question and then shook his head. "Honestly, I don't know."

Tony turned the coffee cup around in his hand. The contents were lukewarm and less appealing than ever as he gazed down at the opaque surface. Oh little brother, what game are you and Father playing at? Or what has he blackmailed you into? Is it Johnny? Or perhaps, Tony thought he was being too pessimistic and Stefano was the one EJ endeavored to keep in the dark. Whatever the case, Tony feared Harold's suspicions were all too accurate when it came to any secret Baker might divulge...

Someone was not who they appeared to be.

Tony felt his eyes drawn to the box resting near his hand. Letting go of the mug, his fingers drifted closer until they hovered over the lid, and he did nothing to check the flood of memories assaulting him, especially the very first one. The horror of it could still leave him gasping for air...staring at his own face...and into the eyes of a consummate liar and thief.

And a man capable of doing that to the son he'd believed his own for thirty years all to avenge his pride was capable of any monstrosity.