Darque Wants (88 page)

And with that, she linked Dorian’s arm and walked off, leaving the station without looking back at John’s darkened eyes and reddened features.

“I can’t believe I just…spoke out like that,” she giggled into Dorian’s shoulder.

“Yeah, you were pretty bold,” he chuckled.

“Well, it’s just…him asking me out like that. I couldn’t believe he’d done it.” She shook her head, still in shock. “I suppose it was the final straw.”

“I suppose so,” Dorian agreed quietly, leading her to the taxi rank. They would head back to Thena’s flat first, to dump their bags, then decide what to do with the rest of the day.

Meanwhile, still inside the station, John was standing with his phone pressed to his ear, making a call.

“Yes, sir,” he spoke quietly into the mouthpiece. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

*****

The office was a small, square room with nothing but a single desk in the window and a chair on either side. It was very obviously rented, in a tall block just on the outskirts of the town centre, where lawyers and businessmen hired private rooms on an hourly basis to meet with their clients in consultation.

That was all this was, really, a consultation between an employer and his employee, but for John it was so much more than that. He had always been fearful of Montgomery Shackleton, ever since the moment he’d started working for him some three years previously. John was fresh out of the Navy with an injury in his spine that meant he couldn’t return to active service, and nothing very much to do with his life, feeling despondent and directionless. His old commander had introduced him to a friend of his in the government, and that mutual friend had introduced him to Montgomery Shackleton. Apparently Shackleton had seen some kind of potential in John, and had offered him a job.

His CV had been faked, and John Delaney’s old background erased, a new one created that landed him the position at the Dorchester Museum. When the arrival of the Tutankhamen Exhibition was delayed by eighteen months, John expected to be reassigned to some other position, but Shackleton was patient. He had waited all his life to get his hands on the artefact and he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity for a few months of waiting. And so wait they did. It was John’s job to search through the collection in the hope of finding the artefact.

He had never expected the complication of falling in love.

His feelings for Thena weren’t a fabrication and they certainly weren’t part of his job description, but they arose nevertheless, and they only grew deeper and more intense the longer they were together.

Then Dorian showed up on the scene and took everything away from him.

Initially, Shackleton was angry that he had been able to retrieve so little information from the exhibition, but then he discovered that Dorian was in possession of one of the artefacts, and everything changed. Suddenly, John was Shackleton’s golden boy, and party to all kinds of secret information and one on one meetings, getting showered with the attention he’d always craved.

By that time though, Thena had already left him for Dorian. He couldn’t get close to them anymore, couldn’t get his hands on what his boss needed, and he was angry and bitter over the breakup. The kidnapping of Deme had been a last resort, and not one that he was particularly keen on, but he understood the motives and that it was a necessary evil to get their hands on the artefact.

“We’re so close, Delaney,” cooed Shackleton with excitement in his eyes as they sat opposite one another in the small office space. “So close I can taste it.”

“Yes, sir,” said John quietly, simply showing that he was listening.

“All my life I’ve been searching, the whole of my adult life ever since Carnarvon died and now…once we get this missing piece, we’ll become even stronger. The two pieces together will give us greater power, then all that remains is to find the third and final piece of the artefact. I know it’s still out there, Delaney, and I won’t rest till I’ve got it.”

“Neither will I, sir.”

“And you shall be rewarded for your loyalty, my dear boy, I assure you.” He reached down into the desk and opened up a drawer on his left hand side, taking out decanter of whiskey. He poured out two glasses and pushed one across the table towards John, who gratefully took it and had a sip. “We drink to our future success,” announced Shackleton, then went quiet, his mind wandering. “Future…future…” he mumbled. “I wonder…”

John watched him carefully, not wanting to interrupt and face a severe telling off if he spoiled Shackleton’s great mind from turning.

“I don’t suppose, Delaney,” he began. “You know what
type
their artefact is?”

“I…don’t know what you mean, sir,” John mumbled nervously. “Sorry.”

Montgomery Shackleton smirked, and then slipped his hand into his inside pocket, bringing out his third of the broken artefact. “Each piece provides the holder with a different visionary power,” he explained. “This one is present. It enables me to see what my colleagues, enemies, fellow businessmen and politicians are talking about and doing right at this very minute. When used correctly – placed with personal items or things that people have touched – it can offer me a distinct advantage in the political field.”

“I can well imagine it, sir,” nodded John, his eyes widening. He had known, of course, that the artefacts gave the owner some kind of mystical power akin to the one Dorian and Thena claimed to have ‘naturally’, but he didn’t know the full extent.

“The other two provide the sight of the past and the sight of the future. Can you imagine what I could do with all three? What ultimate power I would have?”

“I can, sir,” John nodded again.

“And you don’t know which one they have?”

“I don’t, sir, I’m sorry. They won’t tell me anything about what they get up to…”

“Very well. We’ll have it in our possession soon enough anyway and then we can find out for ourselves. Still, I fear I’ve said too much,” he sighed and narrowed his eyes, staring across the table at John with an element of suspicion. “I can trust you, can’t I, Delaney?”

“Of course you can, sir,” John answered immediately. “With everything.”

“It wouldn’t do for any of this to get out, you see, my dear boy. I’ve used this piece,” he patted it fondly. “To help with important decisions during my career. It has guided me, helped me. I have ordered the deaths of others to get my hands on it and keep my hands on it, and to track down the remaining two pieces. I have killed for it and would kill again. Are we clear?”

There was a barely concealed threat behind Shackleton’s eyes and John picked up on it immediately. There was to be no betrayal. “Absolutely clear, sir, yes sir.”

“Good. Because I would do anything to protect it. This piece and the others along with it, belong to my son when I retire, and I will recommend he takes you on into his service too, so that you may keep your position and benefit from the new powers we will wield.”

“Thank you, sir.” John bowed his head respectfully.

“Now, did they indicate to you that they were intending on handing over their precious…necklace?” Shackleton asked, getting down to business.

“Well, like I said, they would barely tell me anything, sir, but Thena did say that it would all be over by tonight and that they’d get Deme back so, by that I assumed they were willing to cooperate with your demands, sir.”

“Good. Very good. I want you to stay away, tonight.”

“But sir – “

“Do not question me, Delaney. I still need you undercover. I don’t want her to know that you work for me. Not yet. There’s something else I may need you to do first…depending on how much they already know.”

John ceased his protests and nodded solemnly. “Anything, sir.”

***

After a brief respite back at the flat and a quick cup of tea to rejuvenate themselves, Dorian and Thena rapidly formulated a new plan, and they were off out again before very long, heading to the library in the town centre to spend the day embroiled in some research. They needed to find out some more about the guy who first stole the piece all those years ago back in the tombs of Tutankhamen.

“Let’s split up,” Dorian suggested when they arrived. “We can cover more ground that way.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Thena agreed, leaning in to give him a kiss on the lips. “I’ll look through all the old newspapers, you go straight to the computers and look online.”

“Meet up in two hours or sooner if one of us finds something?”

“Mmhm. Good luck.”

“You too,” Dorian smiled and disappeared off to the computer section of the library, where dozens of monitors were lined up in a row available for anyone to get online, access e-mails, utilise the printers etc.

Thena made her way to the other side of the library, where they stocked hundreds of old newspapers from decades ago right up to modern day, all stored away in drawers carefully labelled according to month and year. She spend a while staring in awe at the countless scribble dates on the drawers, wandering back and forth until she found the section she wanted – 1922.

She opened the drawer and took out a stack of newspapers at random, flopping them down onto the nearest desk with a soft thud. Sighing at the enormity of the task in front of them, she began with the first of the stack and opened it up, scanning her eyes through the headline of every single article on every single page, trying to be as quick as she could, but thorough at the same time. She had a lot to get through.

An hour and a half later and Thena was fast approaching the two hour deadline her and Dorian had given themselves before they were due to meet up. She was imagining that Dorian had probably had better luck than her, seeing as how most things could be found online these days. She was doing it the old fashioned way, an approach that was still worth doing nevertheless, simply to cover all bases.

She was just about to give up and go find him, her brain numbing with the boredom of her task, when something unexpected happened.

A vision.

She was nearing the back of one of the newspapers when it hit her, in the process of turning a page, her fingers brushing against something on the other side that caused the sight to wash over her.

Young Harvey Jenkins, standing over the dead body of another young boy, a cold, unfeeling look in his eye.

Thena gasped and jumped back, breaking her contact with the newspaper and thereby breaking the vision.

She tentatively reached forwards again and turned the page, holding the edge of it between her finger and thumb, just so she could see what was on the other side; what had caused it.

It was the Obituaries column.

Kenneth White. Aged 14. God has called him to Heaven. Passed in his sleep from causes unknown.

Thena frowned at the words, then ran over to find Dorian, taking the newspaper with her. “I saw something,” she said excitedly. “I had a vision. You have to touch it with me, see if you get it too.”

“Something to do with the dig?”

“No, no, this is something else. It’s Harvey Jenkins.”

“Harvey Jenkins?” He raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“This…” She opened up the page and showed him the obituary. “I’m pretty sure it was that one. My finger was on it when I turned the page and it just hit me.”

“OK…let’s try.”

The visions were normally stronger when they experienced them together; when they touched the same object or item at the same time, whilst touching one another, and that afternoon was no exception.

They held hands and, with their other free hands, placed them on top of the obituary. It came over them instantly.

A busy school dinner hall. The young boy that Thena saw dead in her previous vision is alive at the moment, sat with his friends. As someone walks past, he trips them up on purpose and they all laugh.

Young Harvey Jenkins sneaks up behind them when their backs are turned, laughing at the other boy. He reaches over and slips something into the kid’s food. He eats it.

The vision jumps…

The boy is sick, in the sick bay at the school, lying in bed, tossing and turning, asleep but obviously in pain and uncomfortable, gripping at his stomach.

Harvey Jenkins is watching him from the door. He glances back over his shoulder, then sneaks in. He grabs a pillow, and forces it down over the boy’s head, holds it. The boy reacts, fights back, but Harvey is too strong. He holds it in place until the boy is dead.

Another jump…

Harvey with his dad, in his dad’s office; his head hung low as he quietly explains what has happened.

His father sighs and places a hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright, my boy,” he says. “Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll take care of it.”

At the hospital where the dead boy is being held, Harvey Jenkins Snr can be seen handing some money to one of the doctors.

Dorian and Thena removed their hands from the newspaper and looked at one another in shock. “Harvey killed someone…when he was a kid,” Thena whispered.

“Looks like he poisoned him, then finished him off with the pillow,” nodded Dorian. “Then his dad covered it up for him.”

“Paid off the doctors to say they didn’t know how he died, or that he’d just passed away in his sleep.”

“From causes unknown.” Dorian tapped the obituary with the edge of his thumb.

“I mean, he was obviously a bully but still…”

“It was a pretty premeditated murder by the looks of things.”

“Yeah.” Thena shivered slightly. “He obviously had the capacity in him all along, you know. The ability to kill.”

“Psychopathic tendencies,” Dorian shrugged. “Some people just have them, I guess. And Montgomery Shackleton probably honed them, encouraged them.”

“Or maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to blackmail Harvey into being the assassin for him, even if he didn’t want to.”

“Because he knew about what had happened when Harvey was a kid,” Dorian clicked his fingers and pointed at Thena. “That’s it. That makes more sense. That works.”