Chapter 74 (Part 2)
Highgate Police Station (Early Monday morning)
Detective Shaw entered his office early on that dreary Monday morning. He wasn't in the best of moods but then again, since Christian- a.k.a the Raven- had involved him in this plan of his, handing himself and MacDonald to the detective, he had been on the edge, short of fuse, restless. In fact, he had forgotten when it was the last time he was having a good day, but it wasn't any time recent, he was certain of that.
He took his suit jacket straight off and hung it at the coat stand, next to the door. Unbuttoned his shirtsleeves and folded them up. He had walked from home, rather than having taken the car. Partly due to the thick fog that had descended that day, partly wanting to wake up his brain, he had kept a quick pace all the way to the police station and now he felt warm to the point of sweating.
He opened up the windows for some fresh air. Switched on the light on his desk. It was 8.30 in the morning and it felt like early evening. Not much time had passed since he had sat down on his desk, taken the evening report from the officer who came in his office and had boiled some water for a cup of tea, before the phone on his desk rung.
The conversation over the phone did not last too long.
Nevertheless, it was enough to lift his spirits in a significant way. It was a police officer from the isle of Barra. They had caught a man. Miss White had been kidnapped and Mr. Graham had been the one who had disarmed and incapacitated the kidnapper until the police had arrived. They all were on board the boat to Oban. Apparently, the man was going to hand over Miss White to the man from London in Glasgow. On the 9pm sleeper train from Glasgow to London.
Shaw stood up. Paced across his office, while hearing the developments. He was more than content.
"Make sure you catch the man from London." He said. "It is of the outmost importance to let Tom Duffy to do the handover and catch MacDonald's man red-handed on the train."
Robert knew his move was risky. As was everything else on Christian's plan. However, unbeknown to Christian, this part of the story was Robert's, and he intended it to remain so. You could see the determination in his eyes, his stare still, unwavering, completely fixed to the wall opposite him as he was giving orders to the police officer in Barra.
He knew he was putting Christian's ex-girlfriend at risk. He also knew, both Christian and Terence Graham would want to beat the hell-out-of-him for ordering this, but it was long time coming for Charles MacDonald and his criminal reign in London's dark underworld. Maybe catching the Raven would make the flashier headlines in the press, but catching MacDonald was more important for Robert Shaw.
The stunt that Christian was willing to pull with the break-in of the Duke of Grandchester estate and the implication of MacDonald, of course was the strong hand in putting the gang lord behind bars; if the Detective was to add the charge of kidnapping on top of everything else... MacDonald would look into spending a long time in prison.
Bleeding Heart Yard, London
C. Morris & Co was a well-known jeweller in London for the past twenty years, Christian thought while he observed the shop from a short distance. He was quietly impressed with Charles's connections it had to be said. He had not realised it earlier, when having given the address to the taxi driver, he would pull over by one of the best jewellers in town.
They had not stopped right outside the shop as such, but rather on the other side of the road, as per Christian's instructions. To be cautious had to be the name of the game, on that particular day. The last day of his present life as he knew it.
He only hoped that the man he was waiting for,
- who much to Christian's annoyance, was late -
the jewellery cleaner, Mr. Martin Brown would be able to see the taxi waiting for him, since it had been a morning where a thick veil of ghostly fog had covered London. One could actually see the dense, milk-like air moving, filling the space between people as they stood on the cobblestone yard; it enveloped every object with mystery, the lampposts, the shop signs; swooshed and swirled around buildings and outside the windows. Like another world, it was as if London had ascended to the skies or the skies had descended on the street of London. Either way, Christian kept his eyes peeled for a man who should have come out the shop any minute now. So he hoped.
"That is some fog, we're having." The taxi driver commented.
"Indeed." Christian replied without paying too much attention to the driver's attempt to chat while they waited.
"Enough for Lady Hatton* to come out looking for her heart." The taxi driver added. (*The legend of the Bleeding Heart will be explained later.)
Christian glanced at his pocket watch. It had gone well past ten in the morning and his patience had started to wear thin.
If Charles MacDonald's man screws this up...
He thought, knowing all too well, he had reached his limits. Nicholas, who inevitably had known bits and pieces from what was going on in Christian's life, he had warned him the night before, over that pint they had at the pub.
"Break it off with that man, Chris. The more you dance with the Devil, the more he changes you, not he, but you... I worry for you, friend."
Christian assured him, the end was near. Hand to heart, he understood the advice from Nicolas, and it carried some truth in it, too. He felt the change in himself. He remembered the evenings he had to go through the forest to Alice, while he walked in the dark with a torch. Despite the fear creeping in, he felt he had all under control.
On Saturday, however...
All that had changed on that day when Charles by playing his tricks with him, had mentioned about Rose and Terry being followed. Christian had succeeded making Charles angry, by asking Shaw to insinuate of a fling happening between him and Alice. He hadn't anticipated that his enemy would have played a similar trick on him, by threatening of snatching Rose away, just to make him suffer. To break every resistance and finally make Christian see what he was turning into.
Charles' pawn.
Christian was left to walk in the dark, completely blind, feeling his way, step by step. Yes, he had boasted he had a plan. It had been a good plan. He had thought of everything.
Send Rose and Terry away, as far away as possible.
Get Robert Shaw on his side. By offering himself as the Raven and MacDonald on the plate, making Shaw a hero, Christian had hoped that he would play along and it had worked.
And while Shaw would wait outside MacDonald's townhouse for the Raven and Billy to show up with the Grandchester loot, to arrest everyone forthwith, including MacDonald, the Raven would have flown away. How would he do that...?
By laying "dead" in a ditch.
This had been his big surprise. His last hand.
Already he had planned this with Billy. Even if Billy had been the one who brought the Raven in front of MacDonald in the first place, following MacDonald's orders.
He had forgiven his former partner however. After all, he had redeemed himself by bringing Terry to him. It showed that Billy carried a conscience, unlike the rest of the Elephant Boys. So the two had struck a deal.
Christian would give him the jewels to take to MacDonald, out of which Billy would get his little "share" once he would have conveniently "killed" Christian for not wanting to behave. That was the reason behind making MacDonald angry. So angry to actually want him dead. When Billy would tell his boss that he ended the life of that miserable bastard, he was certain that Charles would welcome the news.
It wasn't the first time Charles had expressed this wish of his to kill Christian. Thus, Charles "The Wag" MacDonald would go to jail but at least, the Raven would have been no more. He would end up as a footnote on the history books and all that by the hand of MacDonald's men.
Christian would be free to disappear for good. Go to the States perhaps. Get a new identity... Live his life without fear. He would never see Rose or Terry again. Or Alice. Or his friends. That was a price he was willing to pay. No one would miss him. A new life was awaiting. The prospect tasted bitter but exciting at the same time. A coin with two sides.
Through connections of his poker buddies, Christian had secure for a handsome fee, the cooperation of a coroner for a death certificate. When he put this last piece in place, a bitter smile had been drawn on his lips. It was only apt for a man with a fake birth certificate to acquire in turn a fake death certificate. He may had lived his life fully but inside he felt like a ghost.
Shaw would not have suspected a thing either.
Christian's plan of taunting MacDonald had already made the Detective question whether or not that plan would work, or whether it would bring Christian's demise. Shaw already knew the loyalty of MacDonald's men, and he knew MacDonald. If Billy confessed he killed the Raven, who could doubt him? He was the one who Charles ordered to throw Terry in a ditch, after all.
Last Saturday, with just one move, MacDonald took Christian's checkmate surprise away. He thought about it long and hard since.
He had to go back to his plan and change everything.
Abort Shaw's involvement too.
Charles had put him on a one way direction.
Not only he would have to go through with the break in of the Grandchester mansion, he would also have to carry it to completion and hand everything to MacDonald. Otherwise, the moment MacDonald was to be caught by the police, in all probability, would have been the moment Christian signed the death sentence for Terry and Rose.
He had kept Alice so MacDonald would play nice. But he realised he had underestimated him. Charles turned the tables and used the exact same move, to make Christian carry on with the burglary without any nasty surprises that could cost him the lives of the woman he had loved and the man he had sent to protect her.
That was where Christian was standing.
The more he kept like that, the wilder he felt his soul turning.
He glanced at his pocket watch for the umpteenth time.
Right about now, not only he was expecting for MacDonald's man to come out the jewellery shop. Robert Shaw must had been getting a phone call just about the same time...
Highgate police station
It wasn't too long after that first phone call which made Shaw smile, when a second phone call followed and cut his happiness short. So short in fact, that soon thereafter, when the tirade of swear words stopped flying out from his office, he stormed out himself, with his jacket and hat at hand.
He entered a police car that was parked in front of the station. Ordered the police officer behind the wheel to take him to the Blind Beggar. He had tightened his fists so hard, he could punch a wall and put a hole on it.
Fucking Raven... The hell with his plan!
"Detective Shaw... I have been instructed by a mutual acquaintance of ours to let you know that the Raven won't fly to his nest tonight... don't try to find him."
The words he heard from that unknown person on the other side of the line... the muscles on his jaw twitched. What in the name of God was the Raven fucking playing at? No burglary?
The only explanation was that MacDonald must had threatened Christian of harming his girlfriend and that actor on Barra.
Thus the kidnapping attempt...
But Christian had been so fucking secretive! Wanting Shaw to trust him, but that trust did not go both ways, because he had not made any attempt to meet with Shaw, face to face. After that meeting in the Gallery, Robert had not seen him anywhere.
Even with having instructed all the police force to bring the man to him, if any of them saw him...
The elusive Raven was truly hard to find when he wanted to.
Sending him bloody letters and putting all sorts of hoodlum to contact him, ordering him.
Who the fuck Christian Blake thought he was, ordering him! A Scotland Yard detective! Having fought at the Great War!
The Raven must have aborted his plan, having his "hands" tied by the threat he received.
The idiot!
Had no idea that Shaw had the upper hand and had caught the man who kidnapped Rose.
Stupid imbecile, fucking twat!
Shaw felt the pressure on his temples thumping, the blood rushing in his veins.
Going to the Blind Beggar, one could say it was risqué, even a stupid idea, but he, perhaps for the first time in his life had run out of ideas. He wouldn't find the Raven there, he was actually certain for it, but MacDonald...?
Yes, the Wag would be there. Robert Shaw would make sure, he also got a piece of his mind.
Alice opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling for a good while before attempting to move the rest of her body which felt heavy, almost as if she was paralysed from the waist down.
She had spent the night in the arms of Charles, and even if it was difficult to shift the haziness the Veronal crystals and the alcohol had laced her memories with, the fierce hunger with which he had taken her body more than once, was not.
It was not a night of lovemaking. He did not seek to pleasure her.
No.
It was a hard fuck, that's what it was; without feelings, relentless, seeking to punish her. He had bruised her body where he had slapped her, squeezed and grabbed her flesh, wanting to cause her pain as if he had tried to erase Christian's presence on her skin and in her mind.
By force.
No matter how hard he tried, he wouldn't be able to erase him from within her.
When she did decide to move, she realised she was also sore. And suffered from a splitting headache.
She groaned as she got up from the bed. With delicate, slow moves she put on her robe. His bedside had been cold. Charles must had been up for a while. She brushed her hair and splashed some water to her face. She looked at herself in the mirror, pinched her cheeks to give her pale face some colour and left the room.
Beth, Charles' housekeeper waited for her at the bottom of the stairs. Alice glanced at the closed door of his study and then smiled to the woman who obviously had been given orders from her boss.
"Master said to lead you to the dining room to have breakfast. He asked not to be disturbed."
"Not even by me?" Alice asked and stood in front of his door, ready to knock.
The woman caught her arm and stopped her. Alice turned and faced the housekeeper who kept her polite but firm look on her face.
"Mr. Charles did not mention any exceptions, Miss Alice. I'm sorry but please can you follow me to the dining room?" She said this time sounding like she wasn't going to accept any further discussions.
Bleeding Heart Yard
"But that's what we get when you dance with the Devil..." he heard the voice of the taxi driver.
"What?" Christian turned all of a sudden.
Of course, the taxi driver referred to the legend of the Bleeding Heart; a murder that had given the yard they were at present, its gruesome name.
The tale's roots were lost within the vortex of time, having taken place as long back as the years of the reign of Elizabeth I. It involved Sir Christopher Hatton, the owner of the once magnificent garden that surrounded the area. Hatton Garden may not have been there any more, it existed only as the name of the area where the Jewellers of London had flocked to set up their shops, but back in 1626, Lord Hatton had married Lady Alice Fanshawe. The tale has it that dear Alice had made a a deal with the Devil so that her husband would have success at the court of Elizabeth I.
Indeed, Sir Christopher's luck turned out to be great, and success led him to become Lord Chancellor. The Queen forced the Bishops of Ely to give Sir Christopher the keys to their London residence at Ely Place.
When the Hattons celebrated their good fortune at their housewarming party, they had an unwelcome visitor who was said, wanted to dance with Alice. Whether or not that mysterious visitor was indeed the Devil himself who had come to collect his payment isn't known. What is known was that Alice that night disappeared. Her body was found the next day, at the same yard where Christian now stood waiting for MacDonald's man. Torn limb from limb, her heart was still pumping blood inside the chest of the poor woman.
The Devil hides in the details... don't they say?
Christian was just about to give a signal to the driver to leave. Sod the break in, sod fucking Charlie and his gang.
But there! A tall, thin man with dark hair, pencil moustache and round wire glasses came out the jewellery shop. Holding a large, dark leathered doctor's Gladstone bag, he looked around with restless eyes and a posture as rigid as a plank.
He looked nervous! A flock of swear words flew out from Christian's mouth, as quiet as wind whispers. Nevertheless, he had to make do with what MacDonald had given him. He rolled the window down.
"Mr. Brown!"
The man turned towards Christian and the taxi he was in. Turned his head, glanced on both sides of the street, before he crossed it. Christian had already opened the door and the man quickly entered the taxi as the driver turned the engine on.
"At the Grandchester estate, in Highgate, driver." He said while his critical stare was examining further the man who had sat opposite him.
Under Christian's scrutiny, Mr. Brown's gaze awkward as it felt, met with his. The grip on the bag that rested on his lap, was tight. He let a weak smile.
"Have you been doing this for how long?" Christian asked him.
The man's eyes widened, in response. It was obvious, Mr. Martin Brown was not the type of man who had partaken to shady activities. God only knew what was it that he owed to MacDonald, serious enough to make him do this.
Christian saw a wedding band on his ring finger... For a moment, a wave of guilt rushed inside him. Stopped him for talking further. Had he known that his personal endeavours would have affected so many people... his mind travelled all the way up north, to Rose and Terry. He would never forgive himself is something happened to them, because of him...
His eyes focused back to the man. He softened his gaze.
"I mean, how long have you been in the jewellery business..." He asked him, softening his voice.
"Oh! Plenty of years! Since Mr. Morris, took me as an apprentice when I turned eighteen years old!"
The conversation turned dead after the man's reply.
Not that Christian was short of questions for the enigmatic Mr. Martin Brown, who, whether you consider it his luck or his misfortune, he was about to -forgive the parlance - pop his virginal cherry and enter the gang world by joining the ranks of the MacDonald boys with the job of cleaning the jewels of the known Duke of Grandchester.
Sounds innocent enough, but don't they all start like so?
Doing something simple for a gang lord, whether as a favour or under threat, it can be just as plain as sending a message, or passing a parcel, or even pretend to look elsewhere, like those "No see - No hear - No talk" monkeys.
"Aren't you...?" Mr. Brown asked Christian after a while, having the time to stare at the young man who seemed lost in his thoughts during the taxi drive.
Christian turned to face him.
"Even if I am who you think I am, I suggest to keep it to yourself." He said with a serious tone in his voice.
When dealing with novices, it was always best to be abrupt and keep them within the limits of safety, even if that meant, he had to scare them a little.
"The less we talk about each other, the better. We will arrive to the Duke estate, carry on the task we are supposed to carry, report back to base and get on with our lives, yes?"
The man nodded with a hurried move of his head.
"As long as we keep on these lines, you'll be fine." Christian added to reassure Mr. Brown, who took a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
They were nearing their destination.
Christian pushed his hand on the inside pocket of his jacket. Took out a handkerchief of his own. He gave it to the man.
"When the butler looks reluctant to let you in... give him this handkerchief. Tell him that the Duke forgot it in the shop when he stopped by to arrange for the cleaning of his jewellery, ok?"
"Yes!" The man replied and took the handkerchief from Christian's hand with the utmost care, stared at it briefly and then he put it in his breast pocket.
The taxi driver pulled at the front of the mansion. Christian paid him and both men came out the car. They straightened their clothes.
"Listen." Christian said in a low voice to the man next to him, in an effort to put him at ease with the task.
He'd prefer to have with him a more experienced man...
Beggars can't be choosers, Christian.
He would have to play along with what he was offered.
"No one knows your job better. Just do what you know best and you will be fine. Keep your eyes peeled and catalogue everything. Charles will be asking you later. Don't forget that." He added and rang the bell of the imposing main door of the Grandchester mansion.
Alice was buttering a piece of bread when Charles entered the room. Before he did that, he had walked with someone to the front door.
So he was with company in his study...
Alice had realised the few days she had spent, being "kidnapped" by Christian were enough to remove her from Charles' inner circle of confidants. She had to resort into collecting information by indirect ways.
Listening to quiet conversations...
"You'll meet with him and Billy in the evening... be at the pub by 9."
Christian had warned her to be careful, if and when she returned to Charles. Deep down she knew, but some part of her had hoped that she would have been able to pick up with Charles from where they left off.
It was not the case! She had understood it, loud and clear when she met with the locked door of his study and the housekeeper escorting her to the dining room as someone who could be stealing the house silver if she hadn't kept an eye on her.
"Good morning love." She greeted him with a smile.
He was already dressed to go out. He poured himself a cup of tea, without sitting down. "I thought you would be sleeping still." He said to her.
"Well, I am up." She replied, shrugging her shoulders.
"I didn't tire you enough, that's what it is..." He commented.
She decided not to continue down that path. "I see you're ready to go." She said.
"I am..." He replied.
"Is it tonight that-" She began to say, implying on the job the Raven had promised him.
He stopped sipping on his tea and fixed her with a stare that felt like it penetrated her, as if he wanted to get inside her head. She suppressed a shiver.
"Hasn't your dear Christian filled you in already, Alice?" He broke the silence with a very obvious hint.
He can't help himself.
He suspects...
She remembered Christian's words once again.
"What?! My dear Christian?" She replied and raised her voice. She wouldn't sit down like a meek little girl, however scared he made her feel.
"What the fuck Charlie? Stop fucking talk with riddles like a bloody old fortune teller." She reacted with anger flaring inside her eyes. After all, she hated when people spoke with innuendos.
"I don't have time for that discussion, Alice." He said back, sounding restrained and walked towards the door. He stopped before he opened it. Having his back facing her.
"Worry not though, love... We will have that discussion... once I collect what I'm due to from your...
our...
dear Christian...
She could tell Christian's name had left Charlie's mouth through clenched teeth, pushed out with hate. Just like everything else, Alice had been a possession of Charles. That's how he perceived her. Something he owned. Something he owned and Christian had taken from him. Had put his grubby hands on Alice and took her from him.
Christian had defied him. He had looked down at Charles. Had the audacity to pull the strings, to show no fear. He would do what Charles wanted but do it on his own terms...
And now the time had come for the Devil to collect.
He didn't say anything else. Nor did he turn to look at Alice. He opened the door, came out and pulled it shut.
She was having none of it. Grabbed the napkin from her lap and tossed it on the table. Run and opened the door. Reached him before he was about to open the front door, with Beth rushing behind her. She pulled him back to look at her. His stare was dark like the abyss. Froze the blood inside her veins.
"We said no killing!" She shouted at him, cutting to the chase. Knowing well, there was no use hiding behind her finger. She understood what he meant.
"You said... I didn't."
His face became like an ice mask when he saw the panic inside her eyes.
She loved the Raven
"Ms. Taylor," He said and turned his eyes towards the housekeep, "Make sure, Miss Diamond doesn't leave this house till I get back."
Alice's eyes widened with surprise... fear... anger.
"No, no, no!" She shouted. She made a move forward and met with Charles' force. He pushed her backwards as if she was a leaf in the wind.
"I SAID... YOU STAY HERE, OR ELSE!"
She stared at him, the anger having turned into hate. Wanting to jump up and kill him with her bare hands.
"If you kill him... it'll be your end too Charlie. I'll make sure of it." She hissed.
MacDonald stood there. For a moment, it seemed her words affected him. Then he got close to her, grabbed Alice from her arm and dragged her all the way to the cellar door. Opened it and took her downstairs. He released her from his grip by yanking her in front of him. She hardly managed to stay upright. The light was dim there but it was enough to see the fire inside the stares of them both.
"It's good we managed finally to understand each other, Alice." He said with a cold voice. "I'll see you when I'm back." Those were his last words, before he walked up the stairs and slammed the door shut. She heard the key turning.
With that, she was turned into Charles' prisoner. Time was running out.
He may had looked extra relaxed and cool in the eyes of Mr. Brown but inside the adrenaline of Raven's last job had started running through his veins.
The door opened and the bright smile on Christian's face was already firmly fixed.
"Good morning Mr. O'Brian. I hope you remember me. Christian Blake, the painter?"
The butler acknowledged the young man, having indeed remembered him, while his eyes fell with a question on the unknown man next to him.
"By coincidence, we bumped to each other." The man said while he and Christian glanced to each other with a polite smile. "Please let me introduce myself. I'm Mr. Martin Brown from the jewellers C. Morris & Co. The honourable Duke of Grandchester passed by the shop last week and organised for someone to be sent to clean the family jewellery. I think his wife, the Duchess is to arrive tomorrow?"
"Indeed..." The butler said. "Although the Duke did not inform me of such visit... and currently he is at the House of Lords for the duration of the day."
The butler was surprised. If not suspicious. He hadn't forgotten that a Scotland Yard detective had visited the Duke only the previous week. The Duke may had kept the nature of the visit a private affair, nevertheless it was quite an unexpected event which had left James pretty puzzled as to why that detective had been there.
And Christian Blake? Well he wasn't too worried about him. Even if, once again, the Duke hadn't informed him and in truth, Richard Grandchester was pretty much a man of order.
Unless old age and the fact that the next day the Duchess would be there... in the same place and in close proximity with the Duke's estranged son with whom the Duke parted in relatively good spirits... Could there be a reconciliation in the cards? James surely hoped so...
That prospect alone would suffice to throw the Duke's usual manners off balance.
The two men who stood at the door, noticed the butler's hesitation to invite them in. He looked quite taken aback with the two visits which were unannounced after all.
"Oh, please..." Mr. Brown said. "Not to forget..."
He seemed like he was mumbling in front of the butler but he had shoved his hand deep inside the hidden breast pocket of his jacket. After a little bit of fumbling, he produced a white linen handkerchief.
"The honourable Duke left his handkerchief behind when he left our shop at Hatton Gardens."
He stretched his arm and handed the handkerchief to the butler, who's brow was raised when he saw the Grandchester emblem on it.
Leaving his handkerchief behind... the arrival of the Duchess and Terry's presence in London had indeed caused the Duke to lose his footing.
The doubts dispersed inside his stare, like the heavy fog under the morning sun that had started to peek from within the clouds.
"Please, come in!" He said to both men. "The Duke does not make a habit of forgetting to let me know of scheduled visits to the estate but in this occasion I think he must have genuinely forgotten."
It took Candy a while to wake up. It was not a calm sleep she had slipped into.
While the laudanum was withdrawing from her body, the events that took place during the last twenty four hours and the footprint they had left inside her, arose from the dark corners of her mind, as if a spotlight that was turned off before, now it was able to shed its bright light where Candy would have wished it to be dark forever.
Behind those closed eyelids of hers, images flashed, alive-
With movement and sound and colour, forcing her to relieve all the anguish and the heartache. As much as she begged and cried and screamed and fought and run, it wasn't enough inside that nightmare of hers, where everything had turned bleak, as bleak as the darkest day of winter.
She tossed and turned till she heard his voice.
Calling her name.
"Candy..."
"Darling..."
Several times she heard him. As if she had been left at the bottom of the ocean, she was struggling to surface from the depths of her nightmare.
And then she felt his touch. His cool fingers on her face.
The tone of his voice changed. It became more urgent. Demanding of her presence. He pulled her out of the dark limbo and into their world, where he was there to protect her.
"Freckles!"
Terry was standing above her.
Greeted her with worry inside those turquoise eyes of his. He helped her sit upright, pulled the pillows behind her back.
"Are you alright?" He asked her.
She had been drenched with sweat, but her eyes were relieved to see him. She did not answer his question. Instead she felt tearing up. Those last twenty four hours had been too much for her... for Terry...
Candy had never been in this situation before.
Even when they had said their goodbyes at the hospital, more than a decade ago, she had kept it together until she was far away from him. Whether it was the drug in her bloodstream, or the ordeal of her kidnapping, the sheer agony of what could have happened, the connection with Christian, the realisation of how bad the situation may have been for him...
It was too much, too much...
Too much to put a lid on it and keep it together as she always did. She couldn't do it this time. Terry saw the tears. He knelt and sat down beside her on the bed. Opened his arms and put her inside.
Protect her...
"Hey... why are you crying, Freckles?" He asked her.
He heard her apologising, over and over.
He had to put a stop to it. He pulled her away with tenderness in his moves, like he was handling something precious, knowing well how fragile she was at that point. His thumbs dried the paths of the tears on her cheeks.
"Please, stop apologising..." His voice became deeper. "If there is one to apologise, not once or twice but many more times, believe me Freckles, that someone should be me."
The admission of his errors, the eruption of his behaviour inside the cottage earlier that had led to him leaving her behind and all that had followed after that, made him restless, uncomfortable even. He stood up and paced within the narrow space of the cabin.
"I shouldn't have acted the way I did... I left you alone, Candy." He started saying, while avoiding to look at her, because the remorse was so great inside.
"I was supposed to protect you, and keep you safe on that island... and I failed-"
His voice hardened. "I failed like the asshole that I am."
He stopped. Held all the anger inside the tightened fist of his hand. He refrained of explaining himself any further, not wanting to weigh down on the already heavy emotional state of her.
There was a silence.
"Terry..."
Her voice was soft. Seeking to soothe, reassure, wanting to make him understand that it hadn't been his fault. If she had trusted in him and had told him what she knew earlier.
"I should have spoken earlier..."
He turned and looked at her. The reminding of the previous morning, the storm... both the natural one and the one that was caused by the revelations of the letter... Christian was his twin brother. He felt a twinge inside.
A knock at the door put a temporary stop at a conversation he felt was too soon for them to have. Candy needed to rest after all. If not for her body, surely for her mind, her emotional wellbeing. She felt his lips on her warm forehead. "We will have this conversation another time, Freckles." He whispered to her.
He asked whoever was at the door to come in.
The Blind Beggar
Despite being on duty, it didn't stop the detective to ask the bartender at the Blind Beggar for a shot of whiskey. Even if it was still morning time and the bartender had raised his brow without saying much else.
Whatever the customer wants, the customer gets, especially when they came from Scotland Yard.
"Your boss ain't here yet?" Robert asked him.
"Mr. MacDonald will be here any moment now..." The man replied.
Robert took the shot and downed it with one swoop move. It burned his throat. His stare turned into pale blue glass. He lit up a cigarette. The place around him was pretty quiet. A couple of punters sat at a table in the distance while he occupied a stool at a bar, with a view of the main entrance to the pub.
He hadn't even time to actually put his thoughts in place.
While the taste of the liquor was still imprinted on his tongue, having only taken not more than a couple of drags from his cigarette, the door opened and in came Charles MacDonald. His brows were pushed closed together and hung low above his eyes, so much so, Robert thought he was about to kill someone. His stare had been dark, deathly black with the sharp focus of the hunter, ready to pounce, having experienced the smell of blood in the air.
Robert got up. Closed the distance, until Charles noticed him. He stopped in his tracks. Obviously annoyed seeing him there.
"Detective..." He said.
The two men stood close, facing each other. Charles smelled the booze on Shaw's breath. "That is a bit early for you... On duty, even... that is so not what a decorated Scotland Yard detective would do now, is it?" He criticised him with the sarcasm evident in his voice.
"Cut the crap, Charles." Robert said with a low voice, barely heard outside the perimeter of the two men. "Rumour has it, you plan something with the Raven..."
"Do I, now?" Charles replied.
The features on Robert's face hardened. He would put all the police force of London if he had to outside the Grandchester mansion.
"I have my eye on both the Raven and you, Charles. One wrong move..."
"Well till a few days ago, you had no idea where the Raven was..." Charles commented with an evil smirk on his face.
He seemed he had started having fun with this. Indeed, a swell of happiness spread inside him. The feeling of getting back at Robert, the sweet revenge for playing with him in the police station.
"I could take you with me at the police station now..." Robert whispered.
He wished MacDonald attacked him, right there and then. Make himself liable. He itched of putting his rival's hands through the police handcuffs and drag him to the station, throw him behind bars, watching rot in prison.
"Unless you want me to call the Police to ask for protection against a harassing detective of theirs, having been a law abiding citizen, I suggest you walk out this place and don't look back, Robert... and I am saying this as nicely as I can..." Charles said with fake politeness, words that on paper sounded innocent enough. Being heard from the mouth of a killer, they were as if he had read to Robert a death sentence, should he continue pressing MacDonald any further back to the wall.
Robert closed his fists. The muscles in his body tightened so, he felt he was going to snap.
"Let's see who will the last to laugh, Charles." He threatened him and before MacDonald had the time to reply, Robert left him behind, staring at his back as he walked out the Blind Beggar.
Chief Police Constable James Barrach came in the boat cabin. Greeted Terry and Candy.
"I came by to check up on both of you. See how were you coping." He said with a thick Scottish accent. A warm, deep voice. His whole presence attested of a reliable, dependable man.
The isle of Barra may not have known much of crime, but their police force was more than capable of facing anything, it seemed.
"We are doing fine, Constable Barrach." Terry replied and turned to Candy who despite the tiredness and feeling overemotional, she was also nodding with a weak smile on her face.
The officer's eyes fell on the young woman, looking pale and worse for wear. A large bruise had started to turn deep blue across the apple of her left cheek.
"I am so sorry for what you had to go through Mrs Graham." He apologised to her.
The names the Scotland Yard detective had given to the Chief of Police were Terence Graham and Rose White but on the island, Terence had introduced themselves as a married couple. Not wanting to put them in an awkward position, the Chief of Police continued acknowledging them as such.
He looked at Terry who was standing close to her, and then his eyes turned back to Candy.
"There is no need to apologise, Chief Constable." She said. "I am relieved it is over."
She felt Terry's hand on her shoulder. She cupped it with hers and glanced at him. Her smile was soft, grateful.
"You were unconscious but let me tell you, your husband-"
"If perhaps was a little crazy-
I didn't agree with him storming on his own, inside that cottage-
He took your kidnapper on his own, you see..." The Constable said and raised his brow.
It was obvious the recounting of the events by the Chief of Police, annoyed Terry. He could tell by the glint in his eyes.
"Oh my dear God!" Candy exclaimed.
Reacted by bringing her hand over her open mouth. "Is that true, Terry?!" She asked him.
The Chief of Police had nothing but praise for Terry, truth be said, but Terry would have to wait for him to reach to the praising part.
Because, despite the admiration for Terry's bravery-
orfoolishness...
Whatever the verdict was-
Terry's action was admirable, but as it goes, the Chief of Police was the Chief-of-Police, which meant that all decision should have come from him. If everyone decided on their own, taking the law on their own hands, acting on their accord, just because they could not wait...
"I apologise Chief Constable for being unable to wait while knowing the danger Mrs. Graham was under..." He said slowly, carefully choosing his words, not wanting to let his temper loose once more. "And I am certain this is not the time and place to recount the events..." He added.
"I will tell you everything you want to know darling- in good time, though." Terry said to Candy, softening his voice.
The Chief Constable smiled. It was obvious to him, the deep bond between the couple, whether they were married or not, it did not matter.
He had to ask them of something though, and that retelling of the events, even if it was greatly reduced into a summary of a few lines, it served him as a gauge of the reaction he'd get
-especially from the man-
for what he wanted to tell them.
"I apologise." The Chief of police admitted. "I didn't want to cause any distress of any kind. Your husband from having witnessed him last night, loves you very much Mrs. Graham."
Deep warmth spread under her skin. Her cheeks took the colour of crushed pink rose petals following the words of the Chief of Police, having drawn both his and Terry stare on her.
Love...
How much could it endure?
If Terry had the power to fly them both away, right there and then. Take them back to the States, away from all that trouble, away from Christian, brother or not...
He had to decide and he knew, time was running out.
A relationship with Candy, or a relationship with a brother he never knew his existence till a day ago?
"Has that man confessed yet?" Terry asked James Barrach, trying to shake the thoughts from his mind.
"Yes..." He replied.
Terry asked him to sit down. From the tone of his voice, he realised his visit wasn't just to check up on them and wish them well.
"Before I let you know of what Tom Duffy said to us, may I ask you to fill me in on what has happened in London?"
Terry and Candy looked at each other. Terry realised that Candy didn't know everything... She was unaware of the Raven. He also knew Christian fought tooth and nail for Candy not to find his secret identity. In a whim, he decided too, not to implicate the Raven in what he was about to say to the Chief of Police.
So he started telling him, how Christian Blake, an up and coming painter through a precarious bohemian life, had somewhat fell into debt, "owed" to the wrong kind of people who wanted to take advantage of his connections to the upper society... help them with certain activities of the criminal kind.
"Don't ask me details, Chief Constable." Terry added. "I am absolutely telling you what I know."
He side glanced at Candy. She had a vague look in her stare as if she was lost in her thoughts. He remembered of their fighting over the private detective files on Christian. How could he explain their connection with Christian though?
"My wife has modelled for Mr. Blake."
Terry chose his words very carefully. "She is his Muse, if you may..." He added and shrugged his shoulders, pressed his lips.
James Barrach noticed how the young woman was silent. It puzzled him. Especially since she was and kept being the centre of the attention. After all the man kidnapped her...
"We are good friends." Candy said with a barely audible voice.
"Mr and Mrs Graham, please, I really do not want to put you on the spot here... your private affairs are... well... private." The Chief of Police stopped them, realising he had stepped into a situation that seemed delicate between the couple and Christian Blake.
Could he had been Mrs Graham's lover?
That was why the husband had whisked her off to the isle of Barra?
Reconnect with his wife?
It made sense...
"The reason, I asked you is because I want to establish the motives of you being followed to the other end of the British isles..." The Chief of Police said. "This is a very calculated move, and not something that was decided on a whim."
"What I can tell you, Chief Constable, is that Christian looks as if he is blackmailed by someone who is rather a powerful criminal."
"Given the importance your wife has for Mr. Blake..." James Barrach added and saw both sets of eyes turning straight away onto his face, for different reasons surely, "Artistically, I mean... since Mrs. Graham is Mr. Blake's Muse as you Mr. Graham said prior." He concluded and decided to pull away from this minefield of complicated relationships those London city people had...
"Yes..." Terry gave him a laconic answer.
He too did not feel like expanding any further on what he knew, the situation was between himself, Christian and Candy.
"Ok, I will let you know what the man who kidnapped you, confessed to us." The Chief Constable said and got up, suddenly making the cabin feel smaller than what it was.
"He got into an agreement with a man from London." He said the them. "Who followed you on the train, all the way to Glasgow, and apparently to the airdrome from where you took the plane to arrive to Barra on Wednesday morning.
"That man looks like he is clever." He continued. "Because he found a willing Scot to follow you at the island, rather than himself which would have made it easier to be spotted as a foreigner in a small place like our island..."
James looked at both the man and the woman. He had their outmost attention as it seemed.
"Which brings me to the important part of my visit."
"Please do tell, Chief Constable." Candy said.
"Tom Duffy was supposed to hand you over to the man from London, Mrs. Graham."
"On the 9pm sleeper train from Glasgow to London."
"NO!" Terry shouted straight away. He got up also. Both men faced each other. "There is no way, Rose is going with that man, on the train! Absolutely not!"
Candy did not react. She kept listening from sitting on the bed.
"Mr. Graham, Mrs. Graham, I completely understand your reluctance and I cannot force you to do this..." James Barrach said, "But I assure you, you will be completely safe"
He turned his eyes to Candy. "I will have the whole car full with police officers." He saw her thinking behind those large green eyes of hers. "We need to catch the man from London red handed. When we catch him, we can bring the London gang lord down."
"My fellow Police Constable, Detective Robert Shaw..."
"I should have know, that bloody detective is behind this..." Terry mumbled and paced back and forth on that narrow square of space he occupied.
"Freckles, this is madness. I won't let you-"
"OK, I will do it." Candy said, while staring straight into James Barrach's chestnut coloured eyes. Warm eyes. Kind.
Christian may had refused her help for all those times, she had offered it to her but now, he wouldn't have a say. She should have insisted. She should have done it long time ago. She tried to brush off the guilt from her mind. The way it affected her, how her stomach had squeezed, her lips had tensed.
"And I don't have a say in this...?" Terry could not hide her anger. Everything that he had gone through the previous night, him fighting to get her from the hands of that man meant nothing...
"Just tell me in every single detail, how you plan to do this, Chief Constable." Candy continued, deciding not to address Terry.
"Mr. Graham, I understand your worry and anger even," The Police Constable said to him, realising it would be important to have the husband also on their side, and not just Mrs. Graham. "I give you
MY
WORD
I won't let anything to happen to your wife. Especially after what took place last night." He added and looked at both of them.
"Mrs. Graham, it is not an easy plan, so I want you to think of it carefully before you commit completely."
"I will do." She replied with a determined tone in her voice. "I understand the risks, please believe me I do."
James Barrach wasn't going to push any further, nor was he going to lay out the plan yet. They had several more hours on the boat before they reached Oban and another three hours on the train from Oban to Glasgow. What looked as imperative to him right at that moment was to leave the couple alone to come to a mutual agreement over what they both wanted.
To help or not their "friend" Christian Blake by holding Charles MacDonald accountable for kidnapping.
"I will let you rest some more Mrs Graham and we can meet later on with my police officers also to through some preliminaries."
"Mr. Graham, please discuss this with your wife. I want to have you both onboard."
"You know my opinion already Chief Constable." Terry said with a dry voice.
The Chief of the Barra Police had nothing more to tell them. So he greeted them goodbye for the time being and left them, knowing all too well of the heated conversation that would follow. He hoped only that the outcome would be the one he and Robert Shaw hoped to get.