Forever (86 page)

'WhoaV He had stepped on the marble slab
which activated the drizzle and he was sprayed from all sides.
'I'll be damned!'

Stephanie had trouble breathing, felt the
spring within her being wound tighter, tighter, then even tighter
yet.

Slowly he began to walk the circumference of
the grotto. Raised his bow as he came up on the first niche and
aimed. Lowered the bow and moved on to the next niche, where he
repeated his aim.

Stephanie half lowered her eyelids and
willed herself small, unimportant, invisible.

Boots squelching, he moved around in an inch
of stagnant water and came up on the third niche. 'Won't do you any
good to hide,' he said. 'Like I said, you're dead meat. Not that
I'd let anybody else have you. No way. You're mine . . .'

His arrowhead swept the shadowed recesses of
the mosaics, left to right. He stepped back slowly and lowered the
bow.

Stephanie clenched her teeth hard to keep
from making noise. She felt fear - raw, primordial, and paralysing.
She knew she was defeated.

Shells, slag, water, electricity . . .

'That's right,' he went on, slowly turning
to the fourth and last niche now. 'Wanna do you myself. I like it.
Just like your grandpappy? Guess who arranged to have him got rid
of? Looked like suicide, huh? Fooled the cops -'

Everything inside her went stone cold with
rage. He had arranged to have Grandpa killed! He had arranged it,
the bastard?

Water, electricity . . . electricity, water
. . .

Almost unthinkingly, she reached out with a
trembling hand, her fingers like a flattened spider creeping across
the sharp edges

of shell towards the exposed frayed
electrical wiring. She squinted in the dark, trying to find an
unfrayed section.

Impossible. She couldn't see well enough.
She'd just have to take her chances.

Water, electricity . . . electricity, water
. . .

She poised her fingers to grab the wire -
did grab hold of it - and just as the expected jolt of electricity
never came, Colonel Valerio snapped in her direction - face, bow,
arrow and all.

Stephanie yanked hard, heard the wire snap
and the live electricity buzzing faintly.

She called out, 'Yo! Valerio!'

He crouched forward, eyes agleam behind the
bow.

'Here,' she said. 'Catch!' And she tossed
him the electrical cable.

Wide-eyed with surprise, Colonel Valerio
threw his bow arm up in front of him, but it was too late. The
cable lashed him, and for an instant, he and his Pearson Spoiler
bow were sheathed in a crackling web of bright-blue light which
danced all around his body and along his arms and legs.

'Fry, you mother!' Stephanie whispered.
'Fry/'

And the grotto resounded with his hideous
bellow, a great echoing, 'NOOOOooooo.' And then the snaking cable
fell and hit the puddle he was standing in.

Instantly, the water hissed and crackled and
churned, and steam rose from its surface.

Stephanie turned away and clapped her hands
over her ears. She could not bear to watch his electrocution, could
not stand hearing the deadly hisses and crackles and his
high-pitched screams. She thought: Is this what would have happened
to Jed Savitt? Is this what it's like for the condemned who are
strapped in 'Old Sparky'?

Behind her, arms flailing and body jerking,
Colonel Valerio fell onto his back, where he thrashed wildly about
while his screams rose even higher in pitch. Then his skin turned
lobster red, his eyes bulged. He went abruptly rigid, seemed to
levitate, and finally went limp and was still.

The sudden silence was unnerving.

After a while, Stephanie lowered her hands
from her ears and slowly turned to look.

He was sprawled in the water, his face
frozen in tortured agony, his bulging eyes staring up at the rain
coming down at him through the open dome.

She began to tremble then, and that turned
into a cold shiver. She wrapped her arms around herself. Her teeth
were chattering

and it felt as though the temperature had
suddenly dropped to freezing.

'Monica!' From far away in the tunnel, she
was aware of someone calling her.'Moniiiiicaaaaa . .

Carefully avoiding the wet areas, she picked
her way around the grotto and, like a zombie holding itself
together, walked into the darkness of the tunnel. Still shaking
uncontrollably and crying softly.

TWENTY-NINE

Vitoria, Brazil * At Sea

The rain had stopped and it was dark by the
time they left the hospital in Vitoria. The doctor had wanted to
keep Johnny overnight for observation, but Johnny, being Johnny,
wouldn't hear of it. He was determined to see the day through. 'Way
I figure it, today can't get any worse - right?' And the brilliant
grin he'd flashed made Stephanie's heart ache.

She knew exactly what he was up to. Doing a
John Wayne number to one-up Eduardo, she thought sardonically. On
the other hand, after what he's been through, he's entitled to a
little posturing - so long as he doesn't overdo it.

And he'd been through a lot, but he came out
of the hospital, his arm in a sling and a showoff swagger in his
step, then promptly fell asleep in the car. Stephanie hated waking
him up for the helicopter ride, but she knew his pride would be
irreparably wounded if he didn't board on his own two feet.

Throughout the flight to the
Chrysalis
, she sat beside him and held his hand. Kept
holding it and murmured encouraging sweet nothings even long after
he fell asleep once again.

Exhausted as she was by her own ordeal, she
couldn't sleep. She was thinking of her conversation with Eduardo
at the hospital while they waited together for Johnny to be sewn
up. She had simply told Eduardo who she really was and that she was
working undercover to do a story on the de Veiga empire, that
Valerio discovered she was an imposter and came after her, that
Johnny was an old boyfriend who had followed her out of concern
for

her. She couldn't bear to tell him more,
deciding that he would have to discover the truth about his parents
on his own. She couldn't bear to see the guilt that she knew her
revelations would make him feel.

Now, Eduardo stood up and leaned over the
seat in front of theirs. After watching them for a while, he came
around and crouched down beside her. 'You really love him, don't
you?' he asked softly.

Stephanie slowly turned her head sideways on
the headrest and stared at him. 'Funny, isn't it?' she whispered.
'That it should take a tragedy for me to realise it?'

'Not really,' he said. 'Sometimes a tragedy
makes one see things in a totally new light.'

She nodded. 'Not that I know why I'd want to
put up with him.' She turned her head in the other direction and
regarded Johnny fondly. 'Johnny Stone,' she said, 'is one smug,
self-centred, unbearable, conceited, superior, chauvinistic -'
Catching herself, she stopped and laughed softly. 'Just listen to
me! I sound like -'

'A wife?' Eduardo said gently.

She whipped her head around and stared at
him.

'There is nothing wrong with admitting it,'
Eduardo said.

Her eyes didn't leave his. 'No,' she said
softly, 'I suppose there isn't.'

'If you ask me,' Eduardo said, 'he is a very
lucky man. I should be feeling envious.'

She looked into his face: he who was also so
proud, and so determined not to show his hurt. 'Do you?' she asked.
'Feel envy?'

'Yes,' he admitted. 'How could I not?' He
forced a smile. 'But I think I can keep it under control.'

It was just the kind of smile Johnny would
have come up with, and she felt a painful swelling tightness rise
up inside her. Somehow, she'd always known this moment would come.
And yet, she still wasn't ready for it. Hurting Eduardo was the
last thing she wanted to do.

'I'm sorry about the way things turned out,
Eduardo,' she said huskily. Tears had sprung into her eyes,
blurring her vision, but she managed to blink them back.

'I am sorry, too,' he replied quietly. He
was blinking his own eyes in a valiant attempt to hold back
tears.

'Just look at us,' she smiled.

'Yes,' he smiled, 'just look at us.'

She reached out and touched his arm. 'You do
believe me when I say I really thought I was in love with you?'

He smiled and nodded. 'Yes,' he said, 'I
believe you.' Then he stood up and looked down at her. After a
moment, he leaned over and chastely kissed her cheek.

No matter how hard she tried, the tears
started rolling now.

They made the rest of the flight in
silence.

And when they landed aboard the
Chrysalis
, the day grew ever darker.

'Grandmother!' Eduardo knocked on the
door.

They could all hear the CD player blaring
away inside - Lili Schneider singing the part of the Marschellin in
Der Rosenkava- lier. He knocked again and glanced at Stephanie and
Johnny. Still no one came to the door.

Eduardo tried the gilded handle and rattled
it. The door was locked. He banged on the door with his fist.
'Grandmother!' he shouted, it is me. Eduardo. Let me in!'

Abruptly the CD player was turned off.
Eduardo was about to knock again when Stephanie put a hand on his
and stayed it. 'I think I hear her coming,' she said.

They both listened. The faint but
unmistakable whirr of the wheelchair could be heard approaching the
other side of the door. Then Zaza's voice called,'Quem bate
naporta?'

'Soueu, Grandmother.'

The lock tumblers clicked and the old lady
opened the door partway. She was sitting forward in her wheelchair,
peering suspiciously out into the corridor. Her face was red, and
her eyes swollen. 'Who is with you?' she demanded in an abrupt tone
of voice.

'Monica Williams, who is not really Monica
Williams at all, and a friend of hers, whom Colonel Valerio
wounded.'

The old lady's eyes searched her grandson's
face.

'The Colonel is dead,' Eduardo replied to
her unasked question. 'He tried to kill Monica - I mean, Stephanie
- but she killed him first.'

Zaza did not look at all surprised. 'A
resourceful young lady.' She nodded her approval. lEscuta, meu bem.
Listen, my darling. I will move my chair back, and the three of you
may slip inside. But no one else. Is that clear?'

'Yes.' His voice was puzzled. 'Of
course.'

She rode backwards a few feet and Eduardo
was the first one inside, followed by Johnny and then Stephanie.
Stephanie shut the door and Zaza rode forward and locked it.

Suddenly a strangled cry rose from Eduardo's
throat, and they

all turned in his direction.

'Mew Deus.r he whispered, and rushed over to
the dining table. He stood there, looking around in shock, and then
slowly sank to his knees beside his mother's chair. 'Mother!' he
sobbed softly, lifting her icy hands and putting them to his lips.
'Oh, God! Mother

'Eduardo?' Stephanie said hesitantly.
'What's the -' And then she saw, and her hands scrabbled to her
lips. 'Oh, my God.' She shut her eyes and quickly pressed her face
into Johnny's good shoulder. One glimpse had been enough to know
they were all dead:

Lili, her skin white as chalk, her head
leaning back over her chair, throat long and thin and exposed.

Ernesto, across from her, slumped forward
over the table among the china and toppled crystal.

Dr Vassiltchikov sprawled on the floor,
frozen in a grotesque dance of death.

Taking a deep breath, Stephanie drew away
from Johnny and crossed over to Eduardo. Dropping to her knees, she
put an arm around him. 'Oh, Eduardo,' she moaned softly. 'I'm so
sorry.'

He put his head into his mother's lap and
keened quietly, and the pain in his grief pulled at Stephanie's
very heartstrings. But above his sobs she thought she could hear
the laughter of the gods, a triumphant, exultant roar at the folly
and temerity of mere mortals who tried to taste of the cup of life
everlasting.

When finally Eduardo raised his head, his
face was contorted and quivering, a mask losing its form. Tears
streamed down his cheeks. Then he looked away, sniffed, wiped his
eyes, and pulled himself together. When he turned back around, he
gave Stephanie a little nod, acknowledging her comfort and thanking
her and telling her he was all right now.

She looked at him a moment longer, then
rose, squeezed his shoulder affectionately, and went over to stand
beside Johnny, who put his good arm around her waist. When Eduardo
got to his feet, he had drawn an obscuring veil over his emotions.
He looked at his grandmother stonily. 'What happened?' he.wanted to
know.

Zaza rode over to her grandson and looked up
at him. 'They are dead,' she said simply.

'Yes, but - howV he demanded, staring at
her. 'Why?'

'Why?' The watery, wise old eyes studied him
and the seconds ticked silently by. Time elongated, and it seemed
she might never speak. Then she sat up straighter, and shook her
head. 'Eduardo, menino: she said, her voice gently reproving, her
expression

reprimanding. 'How can you be so innocent?
How could you have been so naive, and never suspect?'

His face was a mass of confusion. 'What are
you talking about, Grandmother?' He searched her face. 'How could I
not suspect whatT

The old lady's eyes mirrored the torment in
her soul. 'The truth, menino,' she sighed. 'The terrible terrible
ugly truth!'

Zaza sat straight and tall, imperially sure
in her quiet strength. She had already shed her tears in private,
and if Stephanie hadn't known better, she would never have guessed
the old lady was in mourning.

At Zaza's suggestion, the four of them had
distanced themselves from the gruesome tableau morte and had moved
into the adjoining bedroom. Eduardo was seated on a duchesse
brisee, head down, hands clasped between spread legs. Johnny
reclined on the alcove bed, and Stephanie sat perched on its edge.
If she looked beyond Zaza, she could see out through the half-open
door and glimpse Lili in profile, her neck still arched over the
back of the chair. Except for the old lady, they were sipping an
eighty-year-old liqueur.