Chapter 38
Det. Robert Shaw came straight out from the New Scotland Yard ranks. A highly commented, experienced detective in his mid-thirties, he was quite ambitious in his profession with the aim of reaching, who knows one day, even the post of the High Commissioner of Scotland Yard itself.
What had happened the previous night had created waves up the levels of Metropolitan police, had rattled high ranking officers behind desks and reached even the office of the High Commissioner of the Scotland Yard. Lord Wooster was a personal friend of the Prime Minister and a distinguished member of the House of Lords.
To begin with, the one person on everyone's minds was the Raven. Stealing jewellery from the mansions of aristocracy in the dead of the night when no one was in, was definitely his style. But this time, several things didn't follow his way of doing things.
First, Lady Ophelia Wooster was at home. True, the staff had all, but the Butler, left the property for the family was to move to their summer residence in Buckinghamshire once the weekend was over. Tuesday morning to be precise, given that the Hamlet premiere was to take place on Monday evening. However, that particular evening given that both Lord and Lady Wooster were to attend the soirée, they had given James the night off. Raven never had made a mistake before. In fact, he seemed to having been perfectly informed of every move the residents and the staff of the homes he had entered in the past. A mystery in its own accord, that was certain. They hadn't been able to find a connection to all those burglaries.
Then it was the soirée itself. The Raven always chose to strike on nights when there was something significant taking place on the social calendar of London's High Society. That night fitted him perfectly. But just considering the proximity of the two places, the two mansions were side by side. Of course, given the size of both residencies, plus the surrounding gardens, it wasn't as if their walls were touching but still...If this burglary had been orchestrated by Raven's hand, it was a cocky move. Had he become too sure of himself? Too arrogant to allow errors creep in? That's how usually all the great burglars were caught. They became too full of themselves, too certain they could evade everyone everywhere, with dire consequences.
And if the night hadn't ended the way it did, then Det. Shaw would have been almost certain that Black Feathers as the Raven was known affectionately within the underground crime circles had made his first mistake. But the mention of the woman from two different sources had turned the Raven theory onto its head. There was never an occasion where the Raven had an accomplice. Not inside in any case. Could it be that the famous thief was a woman? It did not tie with the quarrelling Lady Ophelia had heard however.
Detective Shaw turned the tap at the toilet sink off. He wiped his hands dry while looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He brought his right hand over his moustache and smoothed it with its fingers. His gaze was lost inside the mirror. In his mind, he was flicking the pages of the report he read in the morning, once more. To say that the stabbed man was the most important witness to date regarding the burglaries that plagued London's high society was an understatement. He opened the bathroom door and walked down the hospital corridor. This could be the end of the Raven, and Robert Shaw was above all, the most glad, that they managed to keep Christian Blake alive.
By the time they reached her place, she had stopped crying. He couldn't dismiss the heavy clouds that had gathered inside her green eyes. Bloodshot as they were, due to lack of sleep and the crying, they looked like the first grass of spring, so bright it was almost translucent.
She came out of his car, when he switched off the engine. He was reluctant to follow her. Candy sensed his hesitation.
"Please, come in..." She said to him, without any other feeling in her voice, but tiredness, "I won't be long, but there is no need to sit and wait here."
He thanked her and followed her inside her house. He inhaled her scent in the air. She led him to the living room. This time it was more familiar to him. She stopped and looked at him. He could tell her mind was distracted. "Please take a seat, Terry." She said to him. "I won't take long." He didn't say anything else, but nodded. She stood there for a moment as if wanting to add something, but she didn't. Instead, she disappeared upstairs, where her bedroom was, leaving him on his own.
His eyes scanned the room much more leisurely than the first time he was there. They fell on the drinks cabinet. It was too early for a whiskey, but with everything that had happened, he needed a stiff shot of alcohol in his system. He poured himself a drum and drunk it on the spot. Took a cigarette out and lit it. He stood at each painting and photo of hers, examining their every detail. He wished things had been different. There was so much he wanted to know about her. Ten years of everything. Candy hadn't been a stranger to him, but ten years wasn't an insignificant amount of time. The change on her was more than obvious. She had even changed her name for heaven't sake. He had realised Archie wasn't approving. It was hard for him to swallow at first too, finding her with a lover, leading such a liberal life. Not that he disapproved but Rose was such a departure from Candy. She intrigued him and let him wanting to know more. How did the change came? Learn about her life in those ten years. He only knew a few things here and there from what she had said from time to time, a little bit came from Archie, but there were so many gaps.
He took a drag from his cigarette while listening to her footsteps upstairs. On the dining table, he spotted an opened letter. Curiosity took the better of him.
"It's a shame you haven't met with Terrence yet..."
"How is dear Archie doing? I hope he doesn't overtire himself. Annie worries so much with him being so busy all the time...
"Give our regards to Christian. We sure hope one day to meet him in person..."
"Much love, Miss Pony & Sister Maria"
He crushed the cigarette on an ashtray nearby. So Candy hadn't mentioned to the two ladies at the orphanage that they had met and were spending time together. His wish to know what went through inside Candy's head surfaced more prominent than before. His initial reaction to the realisation that she kept him hidden from her news back home was one of disappointment. A slight annoyance even. But if he mulled over it for a little while, there were more questions born out of it. Questions he could not try to find answers at that point. He heard her steps on the stairs before she appeared in front of him at the living room's door.
"I'm ready..." She said. She was wearing a plain navy blue dress, with pleated skirt and dropped waist, in nautical style. She looked as if she had walked out those gates of Saint Paul's only yesterday, having just washed her face, completely make up free. His eyes stood at the scattered freckles across the bridge of the nose and her cheeks, a few on her forehead, some even on her eyelids. Under the makeup she usually wore in the evenings, they weren't really showing. Without realising it, he stood there, having forgotten to breath.
"I am sorry for taking a little bit more time, Terry. I had a quick shower to freshen up. I don't particularly go out that bare faced. I must look awful..." She said, with her words coming out of her mouth in quick succession, sounding apologetic.
She did look tired. How could she not? But it did not matter to him. This woman had this incredible power with only the very slightest of moves, the most unexpected ones, the ones that otherwise are so insignificant, to make him feel so much inside, by taking him back in time in such a way, he could swear he was able to time-travel, because the intensity of the memories in his mind was such, he could have been reliving them.
"Freckles..."
He didn't mean to bring the past back, but it just came out, that name he used to tease her. Her eyes locked his for a moment.
"Yes...Rose couldn't leave them behind..."
He didn't respond to her remark. What had transpired over the last twelve hours had tested his control over his feelings more than anything else since he had moved to London. She lowered her eyes, as if wanting to escape the silence from his part.
"We should get going." She said, avoiding to look at him again.
He snapped back immediately. "Of course." He said back. Both left her house. The sun had climbed high on the sky. After a brief stop at Christian's house, where she went upstairs to get him some clean clothes, they found again themselves on the road, heading to Claridge's.
Alone in the hospital room, he had let his grey eyes to rest at the blue sky spreading outside the window. There wasn't a greater antithesis with what had spread inside him. The physical pain and the drowsiness he felt wasn't much of a bother. The bruises at his sides may have had faded too, but the memory of Rose telling him she loved him was as bright as the sun outside the window. He had chosen to shut his heart and more or less tell her that they hadn't much of a future together.
Her surprise, her confusion, the hurt his words inflicted to her, as to what had brought such decision from his part, tore him. If she had got angry and called him names, would have been better. Because there was no denying he woke up an asshole. Both to her and T.G. The worst was that he wouldn't have been there, alive and kicking if it wasn't for them both. He sighed.
How could he and Rose continue? Even if he could fool the police and make himself indeed the hero of the day, the "Wag" was another kettle of fish altogether. Soon he would come looking for him. When that time came, he should be alone. Harbouring nothing in his heart and no one in his life.
A knock at the door put a stop to his thoughts. The man behind the knock came in, before Christian uttered a word. His body tensed on the bed and wished he had a weapon of some sort, for he had no idea who that tall man with the dirty blond hair, the thick moustache and the cold blue eyes would be, who came in his room with such disregard and an attitude as if he had entered his own house.
He turned and fixed his eyes on Christian.
He hadn't drawn a weapon on sight, so Christian started to calm down. However, the question remained. "Do I know you?" he asked.
"Mr. Christian Blake?" The man asked.
"I am he, that's correct..." Christian responded and narrowed his stare. "And you are...?"
"Detective Robert Shaw, sir." He said.
"I see..."
"How're you feeling?"
"Not really up for questioning since you're asking." Christian replied sounding tense. He wasn't in the mood to start answering questions to some overeager copper but he had no alternative. What mattered was to keep his wits during the questioning. He really couldn't afford to let anything that could complicate the situation slip his mouth.
"I do apologise for this, but your statement is crucial to the investigation Mr. Blake." Det. Shaw said and took a notepad out from the inside pocket of his jacket and a pencil. "You're the man of the day as it seems..." He added and wetted the tip of the pencil with his tongue.
Christian didn't respond and the man lifted his eyes from the notepad, once he had made himself comfortable sitting down on a chair that stood empty by the side of the window. His observant stare was examining Christian's face. He could sense all the cogs of his brain turning with speed and realised he had to be careful with Det. Robert Shaw.
"So what happened last night..." He started the questioning, "In your own words...what you remember."
Christian started recollecting the events from the previous night. How he came out to take fresh air because he had too much to drink. He had a cigarette.
"Forgive me Mr. Blake..." Det. Shaw interrupted him. "The two properties are separated by tall hedges and they have a fair bit of front garden...driveways..."
"I walked all the way to the road...detective." Christian replied.
"Ah! I see..." Det. Shaw said back and scrolled down to the pad the information. "In the rain, you walked...?
There was another pause. This time it was Christian's turn to lock his stare on Shaw's face. "As I said, I was drunk...do you think I'd mind the rain?" He asked slowly.
"I wouldn't know Mr. Blake." Det. Shaw said. He passed his right leg over his left to balance his notepad better. "Whatever you say..."
"Then you don't need to question my statement." Christian was abrupt. Shaw didn't apologise nor did he flinch to the irritated tone in Christian's voice. He just asked him to continue.
He took another deep breath. Closed his eyes, brought his hand to his forehead, pushed his hair back. He looked like he struggled to remember. "I had a lot in my mind." He said. "Personal things..." He added before giving the opportunity to the detective to quiz him once more about things he had no intention of answering. He didn't interrupt Christian this time. He didn't even lift his eyes from the notepad. Instead he continued scribbling away.
Another pause spread between the two men. The sounds of people passing by, coming from the corridor only managed to accentuate the silence in the hospital room.
"Whatever you can remember, I'll be grateful Mr. Blake." Robert Shaw encouraged Christian who seemed stalling. "And I can leave you in peace once we are done."
Christian took one more deep breath in. "The rain had strengthened I remember...And I..." His eyes flickered while staring into nothing in front of him.
They were inside the mansion, scanning the darkness for Alice.
"Looked on my side as I turned to start walking back."
He saw her figure dressed in black. How they fought over him insisting to leave and her to wanting to empty the safe.
"I saw something on the front window..." The detective didn't say anything. "Or someone, more like it..." Christian corrected his words.
"I didn't think when I run towards the window." He continued with his eyes glued on the detective who kept his head bowed over the notepad. He was uh-huh-ing mostly, letting Christian know that he was listening. He certainly was an odd fellow and had some irksome quality about him. Christian couldn't really put his finger exactly what it was. It was everything and nothing at the same time. He sure wanted to get over and done with the whole ordeal. He had reached the critical part.
"By the time I reached the window, the fella had come out..." Christian continued.
"Fella?" Det. Shaw's pen stopped scribbling. He lifted his head, looked at Christian. "You mean a man...?"
Christian looked at him confused for a moment. "Yes, I do mean a man...a guy, a geezer" He was loosing his patience. "Am I not speaking good enough English for you, Detective?"
Detective Shaw didn't veer off his point. "It wasn't a woman then...?"
His question fell like a lightning. Christian found himself short for words. The vein on his neck was pulsing. "Are you ok Mr. Blake...?" The man asked and got up. "I could bring you a glass of water perhaps..."
How the fuck did the copper know about Alice...
"No...I'm fine, thank you detective." He replied with thoughts racing in his mind. "I'm confused, if I have to be honest..." He started saying and adjusted himself on the bed, as the detective walked towards the window and opened it only slightly for some fresh air. "Why did you ask me whether it was a woman?"
"But...there have been statements already Mr. Blake." The detective said. "Lady Wooster heard a female voice, some quarrelling she had said" He repeated the statement he read from his notepad.
"And your friend..."
"What friend...?" The right brow on Christian's face arched in question.
"The actor one...what's his name..." Detective Shaw mumbled while flicking the notepad.
"Terrence Graham..." Christian said between his teeth, looking at the ceiling. He cursed Graham and his mouth.
"That's him, yes!" The man said as if Christian lit a lightbulb in his mind. "Odd man" He commented.
"You don't say..." Christian said.
"He drove you here and when I asked him whether you said anything on your way to the hospital, he mentioned a woman."
"Well I don't remember Detective...obviously I must had been delirious..." Christian said.
"That's what your friend said too..."
"He's not my friend..."
"Well, I wouldn't know Mr. Blake but for someone not being a friend of yours, he certainly looks like he's always close by."
That was true but Christian didn't wish to continue talking about Terry. He was eager for the detective to go away. The fact that they had their sights for a woman, fell like scalding water on him. He realised immediately he may already be in danger from McDonald's men. Not only him, but Rose too. He would have to hurry up and get the hell out of the hospital. The "Wag" wouldn't hesitate to send a couple of his boys to snuff him out right there on the hospital bed. He had ears everywhere. Christian was sure beyond doubt he would already know about this. He realised he was shivering. The more he stayed there, he was a sitting duck. His girl would come back soon with clean clothes. His only hope was the police officers outside the hospital.
"Well, he's not...we met for the first time on my gallery opening." He turned and focused back to the copper who looked at him with more questions in his eyes that Christian had wished for.
"I won't insist...if you say so." Detective Shaw said and pulled his cigarette case out his jacket. He pulled a cigarette and put it between his lips.
"Can I ask you not to smoke in the room?" Christian said, finding an excuse of getting the man out of the room sooner rather than later.
"As you wish..." Det. Shaw said and put the cigarette back in the case. "We can conclude your statement."
"Indeed." Christian replied.
"So you fought with a man as you said..."
"He was a man." He repeated his previous words, "Though I didn't see his face, he was all dressed in black, wore a balaclava over his head."
"I see..." Detective Shaw had sat back on the chair and had recommenced taking notes. "And the second person...?" He asked. Christian looked at him again. "Lady Wooster said there was arguing."
"I wouldn't know Detective..." Christian commended. "Whoever came out that window first, stabbed me."
"Yes, I know."
"After that...I don't have memory of anything else."
"Yes, that's right." Det. Shaw said again. He put his notepad and pen back in his jacket pocket and got up. "I think I have enough to go by for the now."
"Glad I could help..." Christian said back. He followed the man with his eyes as he walked towards the door of the room. A couple steps before, he stopped and stood still as if he had hit a brick wall.
"The only thing Mr. Blake is...that second person must had been pretty quick...extraordinarily so, even to manage to leave to house before Constable Grable was able to see him when he showed up while patrolling." He observed as if talking to himself, weighing the whole scenario. "He was just about to show up when you fell on his feet almost." He added. "And the lights in the house had been on by that time."
Christian felt his temples warming up. His fist impression of the man had been correct. All of a sudden he remembered him. Detective Robert Shaw had been one of the top notch detectives who were following the Raven burglaries. He had spotted his name on the newspapers plenty of times following the nights he had busted in those rich houses. Perhaps the Raven could help to throw him off the scent..."I'm sorry I can't help you with that Detective..."
Robert Shaw's eyes stayed fixed on Christian's face for a moment, searching...He then smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Shame...I suppose we cannot have it all..."
Christian didn't turn his eyes away this time. "The pie I mean..." The Detective explained. Christian returned an understanding smile.
"The Raven could be the second person...you know." He suddenly said to the Detective just as he was about to open the door. The sound of the famous thief was enough to stop him make another move.
"He's pretty illusive...fast..." Christian started sketching the myth, "Some say he can fly..."
"Do you follow the Raven's deeds Mr. Blake?" The man turned and asked Christian.
"Me?" Christian laughed. "He's difficult to escape him...he's all over the newspapers...them Black Feathers you know"
"That's how the underworld calls him" The detective noted.
"Yes, I've heard that much..." Christian said with the smile still on his lips. The two men stayed for a moment looking at each other.
"Well it seems, Black Feathers has a fervent fan in you Mr. Blake." Shaw said with a glint in his eyes.
Christian's smile hardened. "Now, now I think you're exaggerating there Detective." He said. "I'm just trying to help the Police Force."
The man grabbed the door handle. "And you've done an excellent job, I can assure you." He said. "I'll let you rest now. Thank you again for your cooperation." He added.
"Glad I did help." Christian said. Detective Shaw nodded his head and left. Christian left his head hit the pillow and let out a big sigh. He was tired but the news that copper delivered to him had let adrenaline rush in his body.
Terry had asked her to stop so he could change his clothes too and she had readily obliged. She was grateful for this distraction in fact. Part of her wanted to return back to Christian as soon as she could, but then after his morning awakening and his behaviour, she was reluctant to get back. She really didn't have the emotional strength to accept he wanted to break up with her. And the worst thing was that wherever this insistence of his was coming from, she couldn't really understand or explain. Their relationship felt solid to her so far. Yes, they had drifted a little bit apart if she had to be brutally honest. But that was expected, what with the gallery opening showcasing his work. He had been pretty busy. There had been the dark cloud of his disappearance at the party that had been thrown in honour of his success and his confession to her over his gambling problems and despite his refusal to her insistence to help him, he hadn't given her the impression of being a man in turmoil.
And then it dawned to her. All of a sudden. That same night he had confessed his secret to her, just before they let only their senses drive them, when she asked him to make love to her, she also had made a confession to him. He had expecting that from her quite some time as she had understood. Patiently he did wait to hear from her that she loved him. It was that night then that she had admitted to him, she was his and only his. Could this had been the beginning of the end for what lied in his heart? Had she been an unattainable chase to him? She gasped.
"Candy...?"
Her heartbeat quickened. Dread started filling her inside. There was no way Christian had been that kind of man.
"Candy...?!"
She turned to the sound of the voice. The latest part on the train of her thoughts had had consumed her so, she hadn't even realised they were standing inside Terry's hotel suite. He looked annoyed the way a deep frown had made its appearance between his brows, darkening his stare. She blinked in response.
"I'm assuming you haven't heard a word from what I've been saying..." He said to her.
Heat spread over her cheeks. "I am sorry Terry...I've been.."
"Absent-minded" He completed her sentence and let a frustrated sigh, while he pushed his fingers through his hair. "As I was saying, since I do have your attention now...is that I'm going to have a quick shower and get dressed." He repeated. "Make yourself comfortable," He added while his eyes followed her as she walked towards the sofa in the living room. "I shan't be long."
"Ok..."
There wasn't much else for her to say. Having already been consumed with those last thoughts of hers, she hadn't been at all there. Increasingly this feeling of wanting to disappear from everything and everyone was settling inside her. Perhaps, it could have been even something to suggest to Christian...if he hadn't given up completely on them.
"Are you sure you're ok, Candy?" Terry asked, looking reluctant to leave her on her own. Those last lapses of her, switching completely off, once they had left her place, were the latest addition to her unexplained behaviour from when they left the hospital. She had looked distraught, sobbing her eyes out and she had closed off like a clam, not telling him anything apart from practicalities as to where to go next and what she had to do. Whatever it was, he was almost certain that it involved Christian and was something deeply personal for her not to utter a words about it.
"Yes, Terry, I am fine" She replied back to him but she might as well be a robot that answered his question.
"Ok then." He said back and disappeared in the bedroom.
He got ready to jump into the shower and by the time the water hit his body, he welcomed its coolness. He could not deny he was still in love with her but her attitude just pushed the wrong buttons for him. He would not abandon her at her time of need and he would do anything for her but right now he was in the dark and all he did was to follow orders when he badly wanted to know what happened in Christian's room when she went back in. The woman who had come out a little while after was almost like a stranger to him.
Candy wandered about the living room in Terry's suite. Despite her being part of one of the richest families in the States, she never got used to the wealth she was surrounded with, when it came to the interior of houses and hotel rooms she had happened to find herself into. Claridge's hotel suites were renowned for their elegance and quiet luxury.
A sweet like honey smell of amber, mixed with soap and tobacco was floating in the air. She had forgotten how good Terry smelled. She spotted on the coffee table his cigarette case. She picked it up. The initials T.G. were carved at the corner. She traced them with her index finger. She had lied to Terry, she wasn't ok at all. She had completely lost her footing on things, without having anything to grab on.
The tiredness she had felt in the hospital came back, more pronounced. A feeling of weakness was about to overwhelm her body. She broke in cold sweat. Her heartbeat raced. Her vision darkened. Terry's cigarette case slipped her fingers and fell on the coffee table with a thud. Her legs gave up.
"Candy!"
It could all have been a dream. Him rushing to her collapsed body on the floor. Her head leaning on his chest. His warmth, the smell of soap. It still carried the moistness from the shower. Feeling weightless in his arms. Her arm going over his neck.
"Terry..."
He let her on the bed. She was almost as white as the bedsheets she was lying on. Her face glowed with sweat. He left her and returned back in a hurry. He thanked the existence of a first aid kit the hotel had provided all their rooms with. He placed the smelling salts under her nose.
Her eyelids felt heavy when she opened them and tried to focus. A light summer breeze floated in the room from the open window. Terry's stare fell dark on her face as he leaned over her. He was still shirtless, wearing just a pair of dark linen trousers. To the sight of his naked torso, she felt her face blushing down to the roots of her hair.
She had fainted and the timing couldn't have been worse. Especially judging by the look on his face when she tried to prop herself up but it was too quick. The room spun around her and she let herself to fall back on the pillow.
"Feeling fine, are we now?" It was easy for her to spot the anger in his voice.
"Crap..." She mumbled and put her hand over her closed eyes. She could feel his gaze on her even without actually seeing it.
"We are not leaving this room, till you have some food in your stomach." He said to her, almost scolding her. Despite her wanting to get back to hospital as quickly as possible, there was no use to argue when he sounded like that. He was right in any case. Her body had revolted to what she was putting it through. She hadn't really touched dinner the night before. Come to think of it, the last few days, she was on edge. And if she had to be sincere, she had to admit, nothing had been the same since the night of the gallery opening, despite all of hers and Christian's efforts to pretend that things were back to normal. She heard him order breakfast over the phone.
"I ordered both coffee and tea," He said while he came back in the room. "Didn't know what you prefer..."
"Doesn't matter..." She replied, trying to avoid looking at him, "Coffee is fine." She added. She turned her gaze to the billowing curtain, given life by the breeze. Terry realised. He was making her uncomfortable, not having much clothes on. He hadn't given a thought about it, given his worry for her. He drowned a chuckle before it came out, but his eyes smiled.
"If you don't mind me, I'll continue getting dressed."
She made an effort to get up. This latest intimacy between them made her blood run warm in her veins. She wasn't to stay in his bedroom, while he was getting dressed. It would have been impossible to keep her stare away.
He stopped and rushed by her side. "What're you doing?" He asked her.
"Don't mind me, I'll be fine!" She raised her voice just to make her point, "I swear I'm better." She added and she let her eyes rest on his for a while, wanting to erase the question from within them. "I'll be inside waiting for that breakfast." She added as she was leaving the bedroom, immediately feeling the relief semi-naked Terry was behind her. She couldn't also see the amusement in his gaze though.