He was still thirsty from his run and was sipping his wine as he listened, despite her previous warnings that wine would lengthen his recovery time. His reaction had been the ‘what would you know look’. Well, she knew a lot, especially about the wine he was drinking now, and her preference was for him to keep guzzling it down.

“Yes, I’d imagine a few kings have been poisoned over the years for not following that protocol.” Anthony said lifting his glass for another sip.

“Yes, and you’re a king, my dear.” Ava paused and placed her hands on the table. “I’m sorry King Anthony. I should’ve proved the wine wasn’t poisoned by pouring some into your glass first and drinking that.”

Anthony was frowning, obviously puzzled by what she was talking about.

“I’m sorry, my dear, but the trust has gone. I tried to bring it back but it wouldn’t come. This is best for you, as I doubt you would survive long in prison.”

“What are you talking about, Ava?” Anthony eyes widened.

“The wine was poisoned my dear. It’s what you did to our daughter.”

“What?”

Ava watched her husband’s chest expand as he took a deep breath and then another. She knew it was a natural reaction to what he just heard—hoping the oxygen exchange would deal with whatever alien substance had invaded.

“Yes, my dear King Anthony, you killed our daughter. We knew the drug was dangerous and were happy to inflict it on society. Our reasoning, I’m not quite sure. Was it to do with money, or our general dislike for society, or maybe for your kingdom?”

“This is all a joke, Ava.” Now a dry cough.

“Maybe it is. But you won’t know until the symptoms kick in. You could be lucky in that the toxicity of the poison is reduced if mixed with sugar and alcohol. So drink up the red.”

Anthony rubbed his neck. “Ava, I’m not a complete idiot. I do know some things about pharmaceuticals.”

“Really?” A derisive comment from her husband even when death was knocking at his door. “One other thing, Anthony. Water does not reduce the toxicity of the poison. Have you had any water recently?” With that she walked out the door. Her last image was of Anthony grappling with his smartphone.

She’d had enough. She needed to complete her assignment and get out of this country.

70 – Little red riding hood

AVA HAD SPENT THE NIGHT IN THE CITY. There was no remorse. Her husband lived in his own self-obsessed world—his kingdom—he never paid much attention to Ava’s comings and goings. They were detached, and had been for a long time.

She had covered her body in warm clothing and was walking along the river when the text message came. It was timely, as she was at a loose end.

She stopped and looked at the mist coming off the river. The elements making up a body just get absorbed back into the cycle of nature when the body dies. She saw Madeleine in the river. Ava knew things were closing in on her. Whether that was good or bad, she didn’t know or care.

She went back and checked out of her accommodation. The drive to her destination went against the flow of the Monday back to work traffic. Was the text message a setup? A sting? The text said he had something for her, but she wasn’t entirely convinced the message was from the potato-sack man.

Back on that dirt road again, to the place that was for sale. Some signage was still on display from the weekend open house; she needed to be on guard in case someone came to collect the signage. The big black birds were in the sky again, loud even with her windows wound up. One landed on the For Sale sign. Was it greeting her?

She parked her car and watched over the property from a distance to pacify her suspicions. As she scanned the surroundings, she saw him sitting on a boulder on top of the hill. He seemed in good spirits. Why the foolish grin she did not understand; maybe due to foolish thoughts. There was no activity back down at the shack. She was convinced this was no longer considered an important link in the proceeding. But there would be a drone watching, and they’d be sensitive to any tampering. That would bring the authorities even quicker. So she’d put on her little red riding outfit and see what came.

She’d tried many ways of locating the girl and her companion but it was as if they had vanished off the face of the earth—and that may well have been possible. One link still remained: this man, James. He would probably be charged with perverting the course of justice in time, but for now they still needed to bring to justice the person who committed the so-called offence, the car accident. Her. But James helped the escapee. He could be in a spot of bother.

There she was, calling him James again, as if the potato-sack man meant something to her. He was just another pawn she used to get her way. That’s what it was all about: using others, consciously or subconsciously, to get your way.

<°)))><

He sat on a large boulder at the top of the hill, humming an old Beatles song, ‘The Fool on the Hill’. He looked down at the professor’s house. Well, Prof, what a time I’ve had, and yes the world was still spinning. It’s slowing now. Thank God.

His shack sat surrounded by healthy grass and shrubbery. Smoke swirled upward from the chimney. All was quiet except for the loud, ringing calls of the Pied Curruwangs competing with the squawks of the ravens. Wait. There was another noise, the sound of a vehicle. He looked towards the road and saw glimpses of black appear between the trees and watched as a black sedan drove into his dirt driveway and pulled up just outside his shack.

The woman stepped out of the car, wearing a red hooded coat. He had no idea why she was here, and didn’t care. She wasn’t a nice person. He also had no idea where Lucas and Isabella were, not that he was searching. The authorities would catch up with them all eventually, and James would have to come out of his hermit state to appear in court for being an accomplice to a crime. Or was it perverting the course of justice? There was a drone watching his house, and the arrival of the lady meant the authorities would be here soon, as she no doubt knew. He wasn’t overly concerned. He’d take his time, as there was no hurry.

He watched her pause at the unlocked door. Was she expecting a big bad wolf to greet her?

James had changed. He realised how far he had let himself go. His moral compass was off course, but he had righted it. He thanked God for that. He had no fear of this lady any more. He smiled. The sun was going down.

He let out a sigh, started walking back down the hill and resumed humming the same song. It had taken over his mind.

71 – A proposition

AVA STOOD AT THE DOOR—an old timber door weathered grey. She knocked. Why? She knew he was still up the hill.

“Come in, Ava.”

Surprised by the voice and her name, she entered the shack. There was a man sitting in an oversized chair. It wasn’t someone she knew—at least, that was her initial reaction—but there was something familiar about him. She’d had seen him before. But where?

The smell of eucalyptus oil permeated the room. She took a deep breath. The oil was supposed to help with mental sluggishness. Good. She could do with some mental rejuvenation. She might need it with this man.

“You’re an intelligent lady, Ava.”

What made him say that? She imagined a train making its way along its tracks, surrounded by eucalyptus trees, the smoke from its engines filtering up through the leaves. Why such visions?

“Do I know you?”

“No, not really. We’ve only met briefly.”

The train. He obstructed her access to the train carriage.

“You remember now, don’t you? See? Very intelligent.”

“Who are you?”

“Sit down, Ava. See that device on the coffee table? It’s been in the background to a story that’s been played out. Your activities, along with those of your husband have taken main stage and sadly led to the death of your daughter. But your real motive was always the device, and you concealed it well.”

She sat down and stared at the man. The soft underside or abdomen of an animal was known as the underbelly. A vulnerable area. Why was she thinking of such things?

“Who are you?”

“Emotions, Ava. Love and revenge, each at the opposite end of the spectrum. Have you worked that out yet? At the moment you’re feeling another emotion. Fear. Something you’re not overly familiar with.”

She looked at the coffee table, felt her chest rising. She was breathing heavily, the veins pumping in her neck. Her forehead felt tight and she told her eyes to relax. Why the fear? Was it from the device? It had been such a long journey. The device was much smaller than she thought. She smiled. The surge of the emotions, of reaching her objective, was driving the fear away.

She looked up at the man.

The man nodded as if communicating with someone.