Chapter 8: The Party

Torches illuminated the pool area. Posh people in designer's swimsuits swigged away the cocktails, laughing at each other's jokes. Hilary still couldn't believe her eyes: half the population of New York was invited! And not any people: people of high societies. Hilary understood now why the Tornatore had to spend so much on just a birthday party. It was also a meeting between high classes. And to say that most of the young people were Enrique's friends… He must be very popular. Hilary noticed many girls with looks and potential of a model.

She smiled falsely at each person asking for a drink. The music was banging outside. The place looked like an Egyptian palace: colorful clothes hung across the pool while ancient lanterns glowed steadily. The food was inspired from Egyptian recipes too. Hilary remembered how long it took for Mrs. Marple to come up with all of them.

Seeing the other waitresses at the poolside satisfying the guests, Hilary saw that she was no use for the moment and seized the chance to enter the villa, to find Mariam. Whilst the dining halls were arrayed with buffets and dancing peacocks (Hilary tried not to giggle as she spotted Salima among the other dancers), the ballroom was lighted in low lanterns and stuffed cushions stood along the walls. Many people were dancing like mad. Hilary managed to screw her way through and reached the bar where Mariam was serving with Max. He had his eyes outlined with black and wore a toga crossed with a golden belt.

"Hey, look who's here!" Mariam grinned, "Want a Sanguine?"

"Thanks," Hilary said.

To Max:

"What are you doing here?" she asked

Max smiled awkwardly.

"I just asked to help Mariam and they said yes."

"Well, you guys can have fun. I'm all alone at the pool bar," Hilary moaned as she sipped her Sanguine.

"Don't be silly. Where's Tyson?"

Before they could even answer, a loud clash made them turn. Tyson was making his way towards them, dressed as a mommy, but he had already knocked down 2 or 3 dancers.

"So- sorry," Tyson said to everyone who was staring at him.

They shook their heads irritably at him before returning to dancing. Tyson finally reached the bar, heaving heavily, looking annoyed at the 3 of them who were laughing their heads off.

"Shut up!" he groaned.

"Tyson, I don't know what's funnier your costume or your coming!" Mariam shrieked, clutching her stomach.

"Aww, can't you make her shut up?" he wailed at the other 2, who were laughing as well.

"Enrique must be taking revenge on me by making me wear this," Tyson said miserably.

Hilary stopped laughing at the name.

"Where is he any way, the birthday boy?" Hilary asked, trying to sound unconcerned but, as rumors had it, he was real sexy in a Pharaoh costume.

"Probably upstairs with some girls or in the garden with more girls. Man, ein't he lucky?" Tyson moaned.

Hilary's heart sank. But Mariam had already warned her about him. A little side of her was simply wishing it wasn't true. The look he gave her each time they met was so intense, she couldn't resist him…

A couple of more cocktails and olives later, Hilary took Tyson to the dance floor, equally drunk. Mariam and Max joined them later. Hilary felt happier than she hadn't been in a long time, maybe it was the effect of alcohol. She glimpsed someone entering the ballroom, surrounded by girls. Most of his golden hair was hidden inside a headdress, which looked very much like a Pharaoh's crown (?). Apart from that he was bare-chested, crossed diagonally with fine golden chains and wore a simple cloth wrapped around his thighs. Hilary''s view was turning blur but she could make out Enrique's silhouette as he swooped down to kiss one of the girls he had in his arms. She turned gaze away but, feeling dizzy, slipped.

"Woops!" Tyson cried as he caught her.

She wrapped her arms around him and said in a voice that wasn't hers.

"Do you think I'm beautiful, Tyson?"

Tyson stood back for a second before answering, "Of course, you are but Hilary, I think you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Hilary rolled out of Tyson's grasp but he caught her back up before banging into someone.

"Hilary, I think-."

"Stop thinking and kiss me, you fucker"

Before Tyson could do anything, Hilary pulled him closer and kissed him. He instantly pushed her away.

"Hilary!" he said, outraged but he had gone slightly crimson.

"What is it?" she rolled his plaster in her finger, tucking at it.

"Stop it!" Then he shouted to Mariam and Max "I'm taking Hilary away!"

They nodded and went on doing what they were doing.

"Come on, Hilary."

Tyson heaved her pass the dancers. As they reared the doors, she could see Enrique dancing with girls from the swimming pool, which meant they were in swimsuits. Hilary snatched a glass from the floor and threw the contents at the one nearest to her. The girl shrieked and everyone in the ball stopped dancing to look at them.

"You- You whore!" Hilary was starting to say but Tyson put a hand on her mouth and said, "Er, no, what she meant was you're hurt? Because, see, she didn't do it on purpose."

The girl laughed and reached for the towel a waiter was handing over to her. The others went back dancing and Tyson took the opportunity to haul Hilary away. But Enrique still stared after them, looking amused.

Once in the hall, Hilary freed herself from Tyson's grips and started running towards the dining room.

"Hilary, wait!" Tyson shouted and ran after her.

Too late. She flung open the dining room door. Master and Mistress Tornatore and the guests, in particular, a light-purpled-haired man stared at them.

"Ooops," Tyson said clumsily as he took Hilary away.

As he was getting out of the room with Hilary under his armpits, he heard someone saying, "My Goodness, the youngs these days! Thank God, you're not like them, Robert…"

Hilary was hitting Tyson with her fists. He was getting tired of this so he let her go. She fell on the floor but accidentally knocked over a jar nearby.

CLASH!

"Shit!" Tyson swore.

"Oww!" Hilary moaned, rubbing her head. She suddenly became aware that she could see properly now and that she was in a very peculiar position.

"How did I get here?" Hilary asked.

"Not to mention all the excuses I had to make up when you did a mischief, you dare ask me how you got here?" Tyson thundered.

Hilary ignored him. Now that she had found her senses, she stared at the door of the dining room left ajar.

"The Chows have gone too far this time," the master's voice was drifting out of the room, "I am confident that they have something to do with this robbery."

"Yes, a coincidence in fact that all your galleries were robbed," a man's voice which Hilary didn't know spoke.

"If I had known, I would've sent my-."

"Sshh, Giovanni, not here," Mistress Tornatore's voice interrupted.

"I'm sorry, love."

The rest of the conversation was carried on in low voices and Hilary could hear no more.

"His ninjas," Hilary whispered. "That's what he wanted to send after the Chows, whoever they are."

"What? Are you saying that-"

"Hush." She put a finger on his lips where she had kissed him earlier. "Do you remember the door we've found behind the tapestry?"

Tyson nodded.

"Lead me to it."

"You're not going to-"

The look on Hilary's face set her determination.

"Really, I don't know whether I like you drunk or normal. In both, you always have crazy ideas," Tyson said.

Hilary glared at him as they climbed the stairs towards the East Wing. When they finally reached the gallery where the tapestry was, Hilary looked around in case there was someone following them. For their own passage, they didn't meet anyone except a few couples doing things that lovers do but Hilary felt quite sickly just by seeing them.

"Ready?" Hilary asked as she held a corner of the tapestry.

Tyson, who was holding the other side, nodded.

They lifted it upwards. The automatic door opened itself. With a nod, they entered the darkness, where the Tornatore's secret lied.