My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 4 Poisoned (9 page)

A thud came from behind me. I
turned to find the old don sprawled out on the floor, the man
having collapsed. I screamed at Alberto, who jumped up and went for
him. Nino scrambled across the floor to his father, shoving Alberto
out of the way, yelling “
Papa!
” He placed his ear to his father’s chest, then
grabbed him and pulled him into his arms, wailing
“
Papa!
”

Tears streamed down my face. Two people
were now dead because of me, one from poison, the other from
sorrow, the frail don no doubt having had a real heart
attack.

Alberto jumped up and ran for the phone,
quickly dialing for help, although he must’ve known it was too
late. He barked into the receiver, yelling at the person on the
other end to get an ambulance pronto. I turned and headed for the
kitchen, finding Thierry looking through the doorway, along with
the cook and her assistant, all of them appearing
stunned.

“
Thierry,” I said, “Please
come with me.”

He shook his head.

“
Thierry! Come with
me!”

He stepped back, fear deeply embedded on
his face, the boy no doubt thinking he’d done something
wrong.

“
Thierry,” I gritted out. “Go to
Frano’s room, check if he’s awake,” I said, already knowing he
wouldn’t be, but needing the boy out of the way. “And if he’s not,
stay with him until he is. He will need to know what has
happened.”

“
But I did everything
right,” he said, his voice wavering.

I glared at him, wanting to slap him for
speaking in front of the cooks. The women were now staring at him,
my fear that they would guess what he had done overwhelming. I had
to get him out of here. NOW.

I reached for him. He flinched away from
me, his tears now flowing freely. “Please don’t hurt me, please
don’t hurt me,” he cried.

“
Be quiet,” I growled, “and go
to Frano.”

“
But the men—”

“—
had heart attacks.”

“
How can two have heart attacks
at the same time?” he said, looking at me as though I had tricked
him into killing both of them.

“
Lucky Donatelli was a heavy
drinker and smoker,” I answered, “and over fifty, and his father
was a frail man, so go up to Frano’s room and do as you’re
told.”

“
But—”

“
No buts!” I yelled, past my
tolerance with the young fool, who seemed to forget it was his neck
on the line as well as mine. “Go. Now!”

His gaze moved past me. I looked over my
shoulder at Alberto, who was now staring at us. I swallowed back my
terror, willing myself to stay calm. Alberto looked over at the
remaining Donatelli: Nino was still wailing over his father,
sending prayers up to a God who wasn’t listening. After a few
seconds, Alberto’s focus shifted to the table, appearing to
scrutinize it, then it returned to me. I could almost see his mind
ticking over, trying to work out what had happened, the two deaths
so sudden, two lives taken before our eyes in such a rush. Then his
gaze settled on Thierry. Shaking his head, Jagger’s brother shrank
back, looking utterly terrified. A second later, a roar came from
Alberto, telling me he’d worked out that Thierry had done
something.

I pushed Thierry into the
kitchen, yelling
: “Run!” Thierry took off. I turned around, intending to
block Alberto, but he plowed into me, knocking me through the door
with such force that I was flung against the center bench. I yelled
out as my back hit the hard marble, pain jolting through me.
Alberto took off past me, running through the kitchen and out the
back door after Thierry. I pulled off my heels and pushed up, then
ran after Alberto, screaming at him not to hurt Thierry as I burst
through the back door.

Across the lawn, by the the gardener’s
shed, Alberto was holding Thierry up by the neck, the boy’s feet
not touching the ground.

I ran across the grass, yelling: “Let him
go!”

Alberto dropped him. Thierry fell into a
heap, crying his eyes out, and breaking my heart. Alberto pointed
at Thierry, yelling: “He tried to murder me!”

“
He did no such thing,” I said,
stopping next to him. “He’s just a boy.”

“
He poisoned the
drinks!”

“
I didn’t, I didn’t,”
Thierry sobbed.

Alberto turned back to him.
“Liar!”

“
I-I’m not,” Thierry said,
his hiccupping sobs affecting his speech.

Alberto bobbed down, putting his face
right up to Thierry’s. The boy pushed his head back against the
shed, his face a mask of terror.

“
Two people are dead!” Alberto
yelled in Thierry’s face. “And the only ones alive didn’t drink
the
vino
. Now, we’re going back inside and you’re going to drink
what’s left.” He grabbed Thierry and lifted him up. Thierry tried
to get away, but the boy was too small in comparison. Alberto threw
him over a shoulder and carried a screaming Thierry back to the
house.

Hope flared through me as I ran after
them, because I’d only poisoned one of the glasses, which meant
that Alberto would have to admit he was wrong.

Alberto stormed through the kitchen, the
cook and her assistant looking horrified as he carried the
screaming boy through the double doors, heading for the
dining-room.

Nino Donatelli looked up in shock as
Alberto threw Thierry to the floor. Thierry cried out as he hit it,
then he scrambled to his feet as Alberto advanced on him, backing
him up into the table.

Thierry held out his hands. “I didn’t do
anything,” he sobbed.

Alberto pointed at Nino’s glass of wine,
yelling: “Drink it!”

Thierry shook his head, making me curse in
my mind, because there was nothing wrong with the wine, the boy was
just being an idiot.

“
DRINK IT!” Alberto
hollered.

Thierry looked at me, making me
want to slap him. I knew in that moment that the stupid child
thought I’d poisoned all of the drinks, even though he’d only seen
me do it to one. So I walked up to the table and picked up the
glass. “Why would you think he would poison the
vino
?” I snapped at Alberto, portraying
anger when all I felt was fear.

“
For what was done to his
brother!” Alberto replied. “And for what I did to him!”

I turned to Thierry. “Drink it,
Thierry, and prove it isn’t poisoned, because I know you wouldn’t
do such a thing. You are a good boy.”

Thierry continued to stare at
me.

“
Oh, Good Lord, Alberto, you’ve
terrified him too much. I will just drink it to disprove all of
this nonsense.” I tipped it back, drinking half of it, then placed
the glass on the table. I held my hands out. “So, when am I
supposed to die if your nonsense is true?”

Alberto stared at me, waiting,
his expression telling me he expected me to drop dead at any
second, but after a minute his shoulders slowly relaxed. “I
apologize, I was wrong.” He turned to the door as the wail of
sirens came from the front of the property. He ran out of the room,
and returned a minute later with two medics, who split up, checking
on each of the dead men. Two more medics arrived, carrying
stretchers. They picked up the two men, placing a Donatelli on each
one, then carried them outside to the ambulances. I followed,
watching as Alberto hugged Nino, the Donatelli man completely
shattered.
Then Nino got into his father’s
ambulance and left, his brother’s ambulance following close
behind.

I headed back inside with
Alberto.
“Poor Nino,” he said, shaking his head. “Two in one day,
too much for one
famiglia
to have to face.” He focused on me. “Frano will need to be
told, because by tomorrow all of the top Donatelli men will be
vying for leadership, Nino the exception. He is a playboy and won’t
want it. Plus, he is not made to lead like his father or brother,
but his uncle is.” He shook his head again. “This is bad, this is
very bad.”

“
The priest?” I said, feeling
sick.

“
No, his twin. He is the
strongest willed Donatelli. He will rule harder than his older
brother. I am not looking forward to new negotiations. This will
make things much harder for Jagger. The priest’s twin allows him to
do anything he wants, and just when I had managed to negotiate a
better deal for Jagger.” He rubbed his head, then looked over at
Thierry as the boy picked up the glasses, placing them on a tray.
Alberto watched him, looking as though he was thinking again, then
his eyes went wide. Before I knew what was happening, he rushed
towards Thierry, yelling at the boy to put the glasses down.
Thierry jumped, the glasses falling from the tray, smashing against
the floor, thankfully shattering the evidence.

Alberto grabbed Thierry. “You
poisoned my wine,
my
wine!”

“
No!” Thierry
screamed.

I followed them as
Alberto dragged
Thierry over to the cook and her assistant. The women retreated
into the kitchen, looking scared. Alberto burst through the door
and threw Thierry at their feet. “Did you see what the boy was
doing?”

“
I don’t understand,
signore
,” the cook said.

“
Did you see
what the boy was doing earlier
when he prepared the drinks?”

The cook shook her head, then she looked
at me. I knew it wasn’t accusatory, just that I was there, the
woman desperately searching for anyone to get the crazed man away
from her. But Alberto had gone past that, he was now running on
adrenalin, his temper taking over from logic—although his temper
was on the right track.

He spun around. “You!” he yelled at
me.

“
Me, what?” I said, trying my
best to stay calm.

“
You did it!” he hollered. “You
poisoned my drink, that’s how you knew the other one was safe.
Lucky drank my drink,
my
drink! You tried to kill
me
, not Lucky.”

I
shook my head. “You’re imagining
things, you’re just upset. Lucky was a heavy drinker and smoker, it
was natural, not heinous. And what about the don? He didn’t drink
from your glass.”

He glared at me, looking as
though he was trying to work out how the don had died, then the
cook spoke, this time her tone accusatory. “Your
signora
was talking to the
boy in whispers. Thierry looked upset at what she was saying and
shaking his head.” The cook focused on me. “And after he poured the
drinks I saw her drop something in the waste bin.” She pointed to
where it was.

Alberto rushed to the
bin, searching
through it, pulling everything out. He picked up a small plastic
bag with some white powder in, not the one I had used, my one tiny.
He turned to me, then to the cook, his gaze calculating, then he
rushed past me, the scream that came from the dining-room telling
me he had Thierry again. I rushed out, finding him on top of
Thierry, trying to shove the packet into the boy’s mouth. I jumped
onto Alberto’s back, screaming at him to get off. He flung me back
then held up the little bag in front of Thierry’s face, the boy’s
eyes locked onto Alberto’s. “I will get this tested and if it has a
drop of poison in it you are dead—unless you tell me the truth now.
Did you try to poison me?”

“
I didn’t want to, I
didn’t;
I
didn’t want those men to die. How did they both die? Only one glass
was poisoned.”

Alberto went still. “You put it in
there?”

“
No.”

“
Who?”

Thierry started crying again, his hands
going to his face.

Alberto yanked them
down.
“If
you don’t tell me I’ll kill you!”

Thierry shook his head, the boy not
going to point the finger at me. Alberto pulled his fist back,
ready to punch Thierry, my husband having killed a man before with
one blow.

“
I did it!” I yelled. “Not
Thierry!”

Alberto went still. He turned to look
over his shoulder, his expression telling me he already knew. Then
he pushed up and walked over to me. I backed up, banging into the
wall.

“
Why?” he said.

“
For raping Jagger. For raping
Thierry. And because I HATE you!”

Before I could blink, his fist struck my
face. It hurt like the Hell I hoped I wasn’t going to, but it
didn’t kill me, although I knew I was going to die, the thought
strangely not scaring me, because I was finally escaping this cruel
life I had so stupidly chosen. Alberto would never have allowed me
to be with Jagger or to have that happily-ever-after I so
desperately wanted. My relationship with Jagger had been doomed
from the moment I had accepted Alberto’s marriage proposal, if not
before then, because of my husband’s deadly obsession with his
cousin.

The second punch
struck me even
harder than the first, crushing my nose. But this one didn’t hurt.
I didn’t know why, possibly because it thrust me closer to death’s
door, where I would cross over into whichever destination God had
decided for me. Although I hadn’t believed in Him for a number of
years, I did now, my Catholic schooling finally succeeding in the
last moments of my life where it had failed before.