Chapter 1: Introducing Reed
Four years later.
A rising star in the heavens of British academia, Miss Victoria Reed represented the finest of art historians. Graduating in the top of her class, she published articles, attended conferences…even had the words "critically acclaimed" attached to her during interviews. "Why, she'll be lecturing within the year," they joked … "No, no, old boy…tenure by her mid-twenties, shall we bet?" guffawed the professors. Indeed, a great many things were expected of Miss Reed…and so it was with great astonishment that the entire British world watched her pack her bags and fly from fame and fortune…
…to Hungary. Not for a conference ("what?" cried Professor Worthington) or even a lecture ("egad!" yelled her graduate advisor) …but instead, to work in a worn down auction-house in the middle (make that the edge) of Budapest. Of course…considering her impressive background, she was immediately welcomed with open arms, a steady income, and her own office…
…as a low-level researcher trapped on the dilapidated fourth floor. (After all, someone had to make the photocopies, even if that someone was well on her way to becoming the leading authority in medieval manuscripts and old master drawings.) And yet, despite her obvious drop in status, Miss Victoria Reed had yet to complain…for you see, over the last two years, no one had been actually able to find her.
It was true, by all accounts, she was alive and well…her research notes were impeccable, her photocopies orderly…even her office showed signs of use (the odd tea-bag and shuffle of handwritten pages lying on the ground.) Most members of the staff could even recall her existence and were uniformly quite sure that she had dark hair and…well, dark hair.
However, regarding contact…only one person had the power to track down the elusive Miss Reed (who was hardly ever for want anyway considering her position.) A Mr. Nigel Courting...another British expatriate whose potential romantic associations with the mysterious researcher provided whole seconds of lunchroom gossip for the bored employees. Particularly considering how Mr. Nigel Courting was not only quite dashing, but happened to be the benefactor keeping the whole place up and running.
Nonetheless…it might have surprised most of the staff to find that Victoria Reed, or "Reed" as she preferred to be called, actually spent a great deal of time at the office. In fact, she came everyday…and was currently to be found squatting under a heap of brooms, pails, mops, and a number of household items smelling vaguely of Dettol. Her toes were starting to cramp…her back was complaining…her knees had already given up ages ago…but wait…
…I need my knees, she thought vacantly. It was simply a case of mind over matter. Mind over matter…Now come on, Reed…concentrate! If she could just slide out her right leg and nudge the blasted piece of gadgetry to the left…
...she might be able to grab it with a hand.
My hand…
Alright…she'd be able to grab it after she freed her hand from the enormous stack of brooms, boxes, and Ajax it was holding up…still quite simple, she thought gingerly…
…before allowing a wail to crop up in her head. For crap's sake, you just had to drop it, didn't you? You even had a split-second choice, but noooo, not the toilet paper…surely not! I mean really…now that we're trying to make a silent getaway…
…why on earth would you drop toilet paper when you can drop an ALARM trigger? Just brilliant! Couldn't have thought of it myself! Crap, Nigel...guess you found me…guess I'm in trouble…but hey, no worries! I've got toilet paper! And it's CLEAN!
The wail fell silent (in her head) as Reed began to grind her teeth ferociously And to think it had started so well! She even had a routine for goodness' sake…
Her skin would prickle, she'd pack her things, dump her tea, and poof, head for the fire-escape down the hall. Like clockwork! No one else worked the floor so, logically, she timed the prospective "run-in" by assuming she only had a mere three minutes before anyone reached the corridor. However, this didn't include the extra five minutes they spent waiting for the damn lift! Everything had been on schedule until Nigel, for the first time in his life, decided to use the stairs. Nigel! Of all the people…she was almost spluttering…never does anything…he'd use a taxi to cross the road if he could! But apparently, as of today, he'd taken to sprinting like the March Hare so that one minute into grabbing her things, she'd heard a stair-door open three rooms down!
Naturally, she'd been forced to throw herself in the most awkward fashion into her own broom closet…at which point, the broom closet had thrown itself most awkwardly on her. She'd managed to catch it all (including a steel pail that missed her head by inches), but had ended up dropping everything else she'd been holding at the time…including the alarm she'd just set for eight minutes, two minutes ago!
Having vented her overwhelming frustration, the dark-haired Reed began to timidly adjust her squat…it would be no easy matter moving every item silently from her arms and back to…somewhere else…without dropping the whole shebang. She shouldn't even be here…
He always gave her notice before coming upstairs (a casual note left on her fire-escape in preparation for the next week's visit), knowing full-well how she felt about…people. Even when items went "missing" or were "stolen", he still gave her warning. And besides…they always came back again…he knew that...and for goodness' sake…she hadn't taken anything really large this time…quite trivial really, just…
…the entire silver collection of the Kovacs lot.
Nooo, she thought blushingly. It was just a tiny…little…piece. One item…
…which put a screeching halt to the rest of the entire silver collection of the Kovacs lot being sold in this morning's well-documented and highly publicized auction.
You take one, you take them all, she thought with a hint of remorse…no wonder he sprinted…
…but since when has my conscience had a problem with stealing for study? I mean really, it's for an excellent cause…although if he fires me…her face fell a tad more…alright, Reed…do try and see the silver-lining…she paused with a slightly furrowed brow, considering her current arena…four minutes to go…
Oh of course…there it is…
…at the very least, if the alarm does go off, I won't have to listen to him rifling through my desk any longer! And, by the sounds of it, he'd moved on to her filing-cabinet! Granted she may be a thief, but…
This is illegal!, she silently shrieked with a glower before muttering (silently and) darkly to herself. I should confront him…pummel him to the ground, yelling "Get the hell out of my office!" Beat him with a dustpan. But…personality dictated otherwise. Reed wasn't the most upfront of people. She was sneaky…a fox…she'd fight…kick…scratch…
…and she'd rather sniff Ajax for another hour than confront Nigel.
Or anyone for that matter.
Besides…sooner or later, he's bound to realize it's not there. Call it quits…she heard metal scraping across the floor and smirked…not behind the file cabinet either…really, if he didn't expect her to be in the office, why would she leave her latest conquest here?
I don't have it, Nigel! It's at home! Reed gruffly mouthed the words at the door…And I'm bloody-well keeping it, you prat!
Abruptly, her eyes gleamed harshly, a vicious air exuding from her countenance... You know… Her mind began to whisper soothingly …this could be solved with a quick slice to the…bile…building in her throat as Reed caught herself, the light dying.
She swallowed…apologizing silently to the door… I'm sorry, Nigel…I didn't mean to say that… didn't…want to say that…a vague whimper on her lip before she forced her thoughts elsewhere. She would not cry…no point, she reasoned…tears never helped anyone and moreover this really isn't the time, Reed.
But the closet seemed so dark suddenly. It could not…be here, this voice. And it could not choose when to speak…why couldn't she stop thinking about it…she must have imagined it…
…a figment. One that whispered horrible things into her mind…and spoke of things she'd never seen…and places she'd never been. It can't be real...and yet she hated it. Waiting in the shadows…ringing circles around her sanity. Thoughts that were not her own…visions of killing…wolves…not wolves…something else…she would be laughing…and she was…
…cruel.
Reed bit her lip, closing her eyes…you've got to keep in control, Reed. It's been what? A year...year and a half? That's excellent considering…only two black-outs. And who really knows? It could easily have been a deep sleep…both times waking up in your apartment…that's all. Probably waited too long on your insulin…
She slowly stretched her foot a little further…determined to keep her spirits up. Really…besides the loss of sanity, things weren't as bad as they seemed. Not only had nothing moved in the last six minutes (other than the watch,) but the enemy, as yet, remained completely unaware of her position. By all rights, I should be on my way home…and he knows I'd never store the item in here…even for a night, it's far too much humidity…she eyed a water stain on the ceiling…this building was getting old.
I suppose it could even constitute as a semi-plausible excuse…safe keeping. As an art historian, I felt it was my duty to bring the item home…and unfortunately, forgot it there…makes perfect sense in a world missing that highly insignificant feature known as sanity. And if I hadn't stolen it, who knows what could have happened? It could be anywhere by now…this way, he at least knows the thief, the hideout, and…
…Ah good…her left hand was free. Indeed it was now quite possible she might make it out of here…as long as Nigel kept away from the broom closet. The emancipated hand began to reach slowly towards the floor... After all…who really hides in a broom closet? Far too predictable...
(She tried to mentally beat down the little goose-prickles informing her that it was only a matter of time before Nigel came stomping over.)
Another quick glance to the ground…almost there…and…ha!
The little swatch ticked in horror as she snatched it in her fist…and click…turned the approaching alarm off. Reed's face burst into a grin…Excellent work, Agent Bond Girl Extraordinaire…you my dear, are on fire!
She had survived the eight minutes…
Any moment now, Nigel would come to his senses, realize he knew where she lived and dart off towards her apartment like any normal and efficient hunter.
Naturally…as his prey, she'd be spending the night elsewhere. Perhaps the sewers if she could slip through the subway again. Might be a good idea to skip work too…let the old bugger cool off over the next day or four...
That's right Reed…keep your chin up. Mark my words, you'll be in moonlight within the next ten minutes…
Her eyes unconsciously flicked up to the heavens.
That is to say, if the dangling assortment of sharp, metal objects situated above her head didn't fall. Or that unruly stack of syringes. In fact, according to her calculations, if she kept her back angled just so, she might even be able to reach her arm around that nasty little…
The door swung open.