Prompt from Hades Lord of the Dead: I see her hand in this
A Parley of Wolves
"He eluded you." The narrow-faced man known as Guildenstern held a stony expression one might have mistook for calmness. Those that had had dealings with him knew it was rage.
"We had him," Mills said, not allowing his unease to shade his tone.
"We were within thirty feet of him and somehow he escaped," Terry added. "The man is a ghost."
"Moran missed him at the Falls," Mills grumbled. "So did Minhurst. Tore after that damned eastbound express and left us to cope."
"Are you making excuses?" demanded Guildenstern in a deadly soft voice, his eyes narrow. Rising when neither of his subordinates spoke, he went to the silver tray upon the side table and poured himself a tumbler of whiskey before turning to face them once more.
"Look, Mr. Guildenstern, sir. We tracked him to the Perse," Terry said quickly. "Now we know he's here in the States. We know he isn't on the ship. We've searched it top to bottom and front to back. He isn't there."
"I am supposed to be reassured by this?" Guildenstern asked, pacing to the narrow window to look out on the street four stories below. "Have you any conception of the SIZE of the United States? There are literally hundreds of thousands of square miles of empty wilderness into which he could disappear! The cities are little better."
Even as Guildenstern rounded upon the men, a knock came at the apartment door. An impatient gesture sent a squat, silent man hurrying to answer it. A moment later, he brought a sheet of paper to Guildenstern.
"You say he eluded you on the midship ladder," he said, running his eyes down the page.
"That's right," Mills confirmed. He shot a glance at Terry and received a nearly imperceptible shrug as reply.
"You encountered a woman there. Correct?"
"We did, sir," said Mills.
"He'd shoved her out of his way and took the ladder to the upper decks," Terry added.
"Describe the woman," Guildenstern said, his voice calmer than a moment before.
"Dark hair, fine features, womanly figure, dressed in a black evening gown," Terry said. "American by her accent."
"Not red hair? You are sure?" Guildenstern did not lift his gaze from the page.
"There was not much light, but I would swear she had dark hair," Mills said.
"More like black hair, sir," Terry said and Mills shot him an irritated look.
Guildenstern remained silent, staring at the paper in his hand.
"Sir?" Mills prompted.
"Mrs. Irene Norton," the narrow-faced man said, hardly loud enough to be heard. "I see her hand in this."
AN: Unforeseen good fortune has come my way. I have been called into work and this time I have been asked to be a foreman, which means higher pay than usual. I cannot afford to turn this job down. Unfortunately, this means I will be greatly delayed in finishing the challenge. Sixteen-hour days leave little time for anything aside from necessities. This is my last chapter before I start work. I will, however, endeavor to read the additions of the other challenge participants and I will certainly review. If I have failed to thank you for leaving comments, please know that I am always grateful to you and appreciate every kind word and encouragement.
Stutley Constable