Adduné - the Vampire's Game (11 page)

A hand cupped her breast. It traced the outside curvature as a voice whispered in her ear.

“
Miranda
…” it purred.

She panicked. She was being touched. Someone had fondled her. It wasn’t a spider … or insect … or bat. Someone was in the room and taking liberties. She screamed in earnest as the door opened. There on the other side stood a man with a half-illuminated face. She shrieked at the top of her lungs realizing too late it was Reginald. He’d returned and was holding a lighted candle. Reginald dropped the ledger on the ground and grabbed hold of the egg that was about to fall from Miranda’s grip. The torch he brought from the car clattered to the floor along with the book.

The overhead lights came on and washed the room and hallway in light. Miranda stood unsteadily – still reacting from the flood of panic that had overtaken her. She looked around. There was nothing there. She felt the back of her head. Again, there was nothing. Nothing caught up in her hair and nothing that had gained a foothold. She felt so stupid. It was even worse that there was a witness to her cowardly behavior.

“
Miranda? What on earth?”

Reginald searched her face for an answer.

“
I don’t know,” she answered still brushing her hand through her hair.

Reginald was somewhat mollified. He had gotten an answer from her, but not one that approached telling him what had caused her to shriek like a banshee. He gave her the onceover. She appeared to be fine and in no serious danger. Reginald walked into the storeroom and set the egg back down on the table. He saw Miranda pick the ledger and torch off the floor. She tried turning it off and on. It was still working.

“
Now do you want to explain what that was about?” Reginald asked still concerned about what had caused her to become so frightened. The counterfeit egg was spared a shattering death and was safe. He could now turn his full attention onto Miranda – something he considered priceless and more worthy of saving.

“
I guess I just got scared. I feel like such an idiot!” she said rubbing her forehead. Her hand went back to touch the spot on her hair that she felt the breeze. She needed further reassurance nothing was there. She brought the clump of hair forward. She could clearly see nothing was there. It was what she needed to prove that she was behaving like a complete nitwit.

“
I know you got scared, but why? What happened? Was it the lights going out?” Reginald asked feeling an overwhelming need to protect her overtake him. He shouldn’t have left her alone. He should have just made up any excuse. In fact, he should have sent her to the car while he got the candles. She would have been outside and nothing could happen outside. The problem was in here. He thought back to what Figgs had said about a possible intruder.

“
I thought I heard my name.”

“
What?”

Reginald was now ready to do something. Whoever was breaking in knew Miranda’s name. That meant there was an intruder in the house – and not just any intruder. It was one familiar with Miranda. It meant the house had been targeted and not just picked at random. And just because nothing had happened to Figgs didn’t mean Miranda would be as lucky. Sometimes male intruders wanted different sorts of things from women … especially beautiful young women. He’d call the police as soon as they had finished taking inventory. He’d have a thorough search conducted. There were lots of places to hide and he’d make sure each one was checked. He’d have the locks changed for added security. As for today, he doubted very much that the coward would try anything with him here. He hadn’t even when he’d discovered Figgs asleep on the couch.

“
My name – Miranda. I thought I heard someone call it – several times – and then there was this breeze. It touched my hair, and my, my body, but the lights had gone out. The door got stuck and you opened it at the same time I was trying to get out. ”

Reginald decided to tell one more story – this time to spare any harm instead of cause it.

“
Listen to me, the next time that happens, please at least put down any breakable objects before you start stumbling around in the dark. And as for your name being called, why didn’t you answer?”

“
It was you?”

‘
Of course it was me! Who else would be calling out your name? I needed help. Those stairs were dark and I wanted you to hold the torch.”

Reginald felt comfortable in his decision to lie. He couldn’t let Miranda know there was someone else in the house with them. Sometimes a white lie did the trick. He hoped it would in this case.

“
But it didn’t sound like you and …”

“
That’s what happens when you are speaking through 3 tons of stone. Sounds – voices especially – get distorted.

“
But the hand … or breeze … ”

“
Of course, it was a breeze! This is where you say something inappropriately American like, ‘Hmph, imagine a drafty old castle in England!’ I can hear you saying that now.”

“
And the door?”

“
Drafts cause wind currents which cause doors to become stuck. Haven’t you noticed this blasted cold? Do you think it would be this cold if there weren’t drafts? Really, Miranda! I am surprised at you. I thought you were tougher than this.” He paused as if thinking, “Perhaps you should go home? I could drive you and then come back here and finish things up – alone.”

He knew casting aspersions on her maturity would work. Sure enough Miranda rose to the challenge.

“
You’re right, you’re right, you’re right! What can I say? I am a silly-nilly and, no, I’m quite fine and not going home. Here’s your stupid ledger,” she said slamming it into his abdomen rather roughly. She walked over to the Victorian panels and knelt down. “I believe we were going to start here. Now let’s get going while the lights seem to be cooperating.”

Reginald set down the lighted candle on the stone ledge. He took out a handful of candles from his pocket and laid them next to it. He unfolded the jacket from the crook of his arm and held it out towards Miranda.

“
You refused this the first time it was offered. Now I insist.”

Miranda gratefully placed it around her wondering why she’d cavalierly declined the generosity. She wouldn’t this time. Reginald grabbed a pen from his vest pocket and opened the ledger.

“
Well, let’s go, Miranda. I haven’t got all day!” he said winking.

Miranda smiled as they finished the dreary job of taking inventory.

CHAPTER 5

Frank Blanding was nervous. The task for Perry Antiques was simple enough. It was no different than any other of the thousands of assignments Blanding Fine Art Movers had satisfactorily completed. They’d been in business over 75 years and prided themselves on fulfilling their client’s needs. Their illustrious history included being the exclusive mover for Arthur Perry’s company almost since its inception. Now that business relationship was in jeopardy. Perry Antiques had switched leadership. It was due to a tragic accident, but it had happened nonetheless. To Frank, it signaled potential trouble. He’d learned that any change in upper management signaled a chance for his company to lose a valued customer. It normally didn’t happen, but Frank dealt in the realm of what
could
happen rather than what
usually did
. It was imperative to take this approach in his line of work. Blanding’s packed and shipped priceless objets d’art on the basis of anticipating problems It was this philosophy that allowed them the vision to properly protect the delicate cargo so that it arrived at its destination in one piece. Although it was Arthur Perry’s daughter that had taken the helm, there was still the outside chance she would want to do things differently. Even if the thought hadn’t yet crossed her mind, it might if something went wrong.

Before the team left for Weatherly Manor, Frank had taken Sy Feldman aside and expressed his concerns. He hand selected Sy to head the team based on his long, impeccable track record. He was a tough taskmaster, but it was what was needed for this job. There was no margin for error and there could be no screw-ups. There was too much at stake. Sy got the message loud and clear.

No one understood the need for attention to detail better than Sy. He’d worked for Blanding’s for over 40 years and was close to retirement. From Sy’s perspective, Blanding’s had been more than fair with him. He respected not only Frank, but the entire Blanding family. They were, as Sy put it,
good people
. Because of his background and strong attachment to Blanding’s, Sy took Frank’s worries to heart. While he had worked with most of the men on the team Frank had assembled, there was one person on it that he had his doubts about. His name was Herbert Pinckus. He was a newcomer to the company and had been hired over Sy’s objections. Although Sy had limited dealings with the hiring process, he had known Herbert through a previous employee, Mosh Brecker. Brecker was Sy’s friend and owned the pub where Herbert used to be employed. Brecker had fired Herbert, and because of Sy’s close relationship with Brecker, he knew the details of why. It was because on more than one occasion Herbert Pinckus had been caught asleep on the job – literally asleep – on the floor of a tight broom closet. Brecker had warned him – several times. The next time he found Herbert, this time curled up in the corner of a stockroom, his employment was terminated on the spot.

Sy felt no compunction about expressing his reservations to the Blandings, but they went ahead and hired Herbert anyway. That had been about 3 months ago. It meant Herbert was almost through the perfunctory probation period. All Blanding’s employees went through one. In another week, his employment would come up for review. If he was found to have carried out all conditions of his employment satisfactorily, he would become a full-time Blanding mover, privy to all the benefits. If he fell short, he would be back on the streets looking for another job.

Sy felt duty bound to keep tabs on him. He knew that Herbie – as his mates called him – had been an exemplary employee. Thus far, he’d been punctual, respectful, and careful with client’s property. From what Sy had found out, Herb’s co-workers agreed that he always put in a full day’s work. Further, his personality meshed. Herb had quickly fit in and had already become one of the boys. Even with the glowing personal recommendations, Sy reserved judgment. He couldn’t kick loose what his friend had said about him, so he determined that today, he would keep his eyes and ears open to learn the truth about Mr. Herbert Pinckus. This was especially true after listening to what Frank Blanding had to say. This job was crucial to keeping a valued client. Sy would be extra careful in watching Herbert and making sure he didn’t compromise that relationship. He’d be damned if he let him go and give Blanding’s a bad name. This assignment would be pivotal in deciding Herbert’s future with Blanding’s. If he proved himself, Sy would give him a favorable review. If not, Sy had no trouble speaking his mind as to why Herbert should not continue his employment with Blanding’s.

The ride out to Weatherly Manor was pleasant enough. As they pulled up to the estate, he immediately recognized the unflappable Reginald Charles standing out front to greet them. He’d worked with him many times before. Sy hopped out of the huge van and shook his hand.

“
Good day, Mr. Charles. Nice to see you again.”

“
It’s nice to see you, too, Sy. I see Mr. Blanding has given this job to the right man.”

Sy laughed softly.

“
It’s very gracious of you to say so, sir. And I’m going to make sure you get the excellent service that Blanding’s always delivers to its customers. Now are you going to be showing us what we’re moving today, sir? Or will we be taking our marching orders from Mr. Figgs per usual?”

Reginald looked down at his feet for a moment. He hadn’t anticipated any questions about William Figgs and hadn’t thought of a cover story. He decided to play it safe and stick to the truth, but not quite all of it.

“
Mr. Figgs has decided to retire. Lord knows he’s earned the right. He won’t be with us anymore.”

“
Is that so, sir? Well, I can rightly understand. I’m approaching that age myself, I am.”

“
I’m sure it’ll take more than age to get you to retire!”

“
You got me there, sir,” Sy replied good-naturedly.

“
If you’ll follow me,” Reginald stated as he disappeared in the bowels of Weatherly.

Sy took a step back and called to his men, “I’m gonna go in and figure out what we need. Start unpacking the truck and leave the materials on the step for now. Come on! We’re movers, so let’s move!” He jogged, quickly catching up to Reginald, “Sorry, sir. Sometimes you gotta crack the whip. Make sure everybody minds their p’s and q’s.”