Chapter 31
Duncan had managed to get closer than he had thought he would be able to. The old maison where the Roman historian Cassius Marcellus had lived, was a burning hulk. Duncan had only met him once... not long after meeting Darius. The priest had given him the address and sent him over with a letter.
"He likes to know our stories... who we are... what we believe. If you feel comfortable telling him..." Darius had shrugged with a smile, then turned to assist some parishioner with a problem.
Duncan had gone. He'd found the old man interesting and had shared some of his background with him... but not everything. He did note that when he asked about others... Cassius had simply smiled. "I keep stories of us for the future young Duncan MacLeod... I do not spy nor do I carry tales. What I know is what you wish to share to be remembered about you someday... When none of us are left." After making a move on a chessboard, considering the chessmen for a time while Duncan had spoken, Cassius then made an additional move... He wrote something on paper, folded it and gave it to Duncan for Darius... Other than that one visit... Duncan hadn't really thought about the man in close to two hundred years. The Roman wasn't really sociable.
And now... Cassius Marcellus was apparently dead.
A number of firetrucks and firemen were attempting to control the blaze. But the maison was a total loss. At this point, Duncan did not think they had found a body.
He started and looked about suspiciously... the thrum of another presence was close by. His fingers felt for the hilt of his katana. His eyes, hawk-like peered through the gathering crowd... seeking for whoever was there... whoever was peering back at him. Then he saw him... and his eyes widened.
The immortal man-child Kenny stared angrily at him through the crowd. The boy had a long coat on... so he had to be carrying. Anger passed over Duncan's face... anger and determination. If Kenny were responsible... he would die this night. Duncan slowly and carefully approached the eight-hundred-year-old immortal.
Kenny for his part did not move back but appeared ready to flee if necessary. As soon as Duncan came to a stop a few feet away, Kenny snarled, "I didn't do it MacLeod! It wasn't me."
"Why should I believe you? Attacking an old man attempting to help you is exactly your style!"
"Oh... I thought about it... but the other one got there first. I saw him leave." Kenny's voice was still defiant. "We're in public MacLeod... Try anything and I'll yell you got a sword. Who do you think they'll believe."
MacLeod loomed over the boy, "You saw him? The one who did this?"
"Yeah... and I saw him enter that girls' school, too."
Duncan clasped one hand over Kenny's arm and pulled him swiftly into the shadows. "Shut up I only want to talk...stop struggling!"
"All you want is what you've always wanted... what they all want." Kenny twisted out of MacLeod's grasp, but he didn't leave.
"What did he look like?"
"Big fellow... very big. He was dressed in black...black coat... black hair... maybe a black beard... I didn't get a good look at his face."
"How convenient." Duncan's voice betrayed his skepticism.
"Hey... I was just trying to make certain I wasn't his next victim. You think this is smart MacLeod? Killing mortals and immortals so publicly?"
"Seems to me you have a penchant for killing mortals."
"Yeah... when they get in my way. But wholesale slaughter? You think that's smart?"
"No..." Duncan stared back at the fire for a long time. Then he said flatly. "Why were you at the girls' school?"
An evil leer appeared on Kenny's young-looking face. "For the girl, of course." He backed away from MacLeod. "I saw you there... just thought it would get to you if she had an early accident."
Duncan made to grab the boy... but Kenny backed away, his voice raised slightly, "Shall I scream for the cops, MacLeod?" Then he turned and raced into the crowd.
Duncan let him go. Kenny was a real pain... and one he truly wanted to see dead... but not right now... not in the middle of a crowd of spectators and the nearby authorities. Later... when the time was right.
Right about now... Duncan was wishing he could call Joe. The Watcher could check his database and likely find this immortal. Surely the Watchers knew what was going on... But Joe was lying in a hospital bed half a world away recovering from gunshot wounds... and somehow... Duncan did not think the Watcher organization would be too free with information right now... especially with him. If he could get the information to Methos... perhaps his friend could hack into the system he had once helped develop.
Thoughtfully Duncan returned to his car and tried Methos' cell phone one more time. Still nothing! He left one more message, then resumed his drive through the night streets of Paris both hoping to find the mysterious immortal... and dreading what might happen if he did so.
***
London
Cassandra had studied the map Barlow had provided, and then, as darkness fell, taken a taxi to near the address she'd been given. She'd paid the cabbie off, then walked the last few blocks to the large graystone manor house.
Now standing in the shadows, she was aware of the men in a car parked before the house, men who were obviously on some sort of stakeout. Cassandra considered getting closer and trying to hear what they might say. They were police likely... perhaps this Lord Edward Gray was still a thief in his current life.
Cassandra had checked the directory and noted the name William Benjamin as the owner. That name meant nothing to her... but she had heard it before... she was just not certain when or where she had heard that name. Perhaps she could put Barlow back to work.
Cassandra stiffened at the feel of an immortal. She darted into the shadows and then hissed at the newcomer, "Barlow! Why are you here?"
"Thought maybe I could help you. I could distract those men if you like... or you could distract them while I search the house."
Cassandra stared at him, slightly peeved at herself for not having considered that option earlier. Likely it would have occurred to her later... this was, after all, only a scouting mission on her part. Still... Barlow might prove useful. "You distract them... then leave. Keep them busy about three minutes... that should give me enough time."
Barlow nodded, "But are you certain you want me to leave... You might need help getting back out."
She shook her head. "Just keep them occupied a few minutes... Ask for directions. Then thank them and leave." Cassandra was ready to pitch her voice at him one more time if he balked... but it was not necessary.
Barlow nodded with a shrug. "But I'll check on you tomorrow. Just to be certain you're all right!" He pivoted and slowly sauntered over to the car.
While he was talking with the men... Cassandra slipped behind the car and onto the grounds. The house was dark... and she felt no other immortal presence there. Carefully she made her way around the manor house to the rear... and began checking windows (all barred) and doors (all bolted with deadlocks). She stepped back and peered at the second and third story. All the windows she could see were barred. Whoever lived here had made certain that entry by anyone other than himself would be difficult if not impossible.
"Now... " Cassandra murmured to herself. "If I wanted to get in without anyone knowing how... what would I do? What access might I arrange that no one would suspect?" Her eyes traveled up the walls to the roof. Cassandra smiled. Perfect! She'd changed into low-heeled boots for this little foray... but she wasn't too certain how well they'd do on a climb of this nature. Cassandra removed her long trench coat, folding it neatly into a pile, which she hid behind the trash-cans. She flexed her muscles and adjusted her sword sheath so that the sword hung across her back. Taking a running leap at the drainpipe... Cassandra began to inch her way skyward to the roof.
