But with Madeleine it was something different. Madeleine filled some kind of void. She’d often told Madeleine how much she loved her. Was it a species thing, or just a state of mind? A moral code, she decides what’s right or wrong. Was that right? Ava knew where her thoughts were heading and she knew she had a choice. There is no God. Madeleine took her own life, because there is no God. He would have stopped it. He would not have let her put a rope around her neck. He would not have let her jump. He would have brought help.
Anthony made his way to the dining table, refreshed and wrapped in his Ralph Lauren Polo robe with his hands tucked in the oversized pockets, thumbs protruding. Ava ushered him to a chair. A glass of red wine sat in front of him.
Ava sat with her elbows resting on the table and her hands clenched, staring at her husband as he made himself comfortable. Yes, his majesty had arrived.
“You told me you feel like a secret king, apart from humanity, far superior to them all. Do you still think like that?”
Anthony smiled. “I do, but only in my thoughts. I feel my kingdom is growing.” He looked around the room. “Where’s the Mother and Child painting?
Ava ignored his last question. “So, Anthony my dear,” Ava raised her glass and moved it towards Anthony’s. “Here’s to King Anthony, good health, and knowing we trust each other.” Their glasses clicked. The wine splashed around in the glass.
He was hesitant and looked slightly confused but he sipped his wine.
“You remember how I spoke about the school of thought in medieval times where it was common to poison an enemy’s wine? And the clicking of glasses told the host that you trusted he hadn’t poisoned the drinks.”
Anthony looked at Ava and gave a half nod. His eyes widened in expectation.
“If there was a lack of trust, the host would pour some wine in the guest’s glass and drink it, to prove it wasn’t poisoned.”
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.
