Some Creepy Castle in London
M r. Jay’s face wasn’t visible in the dark, but his employees could glimpse his faint silhouette by the desk at the end of the room. They could also hear a hollow voice and the smoke that occasionally came out of whatever he smoked in there. His employees lowered their heads, narrowed their knees, and laced their hands in obedience, waiting for him to talk.
“He killed Nutty?” Mr. Jay’s voice came from the dark.
The employees hesitated, not sure what to say. One of them had the courage to ask, “Who’s Nutty?”
“Nutty!” Mr. Jay said. “Nutty Peanuts Coconut Nutcracker.”
Mr. Jay wasn’t one to crack jokes, nor did his voice imply mockery. He was dead serious. The situation was serious, too. The employees worried he’d end up burning one of them, like he always did when disappointed.
“Who is Nutty Peanuts Coconut Nutcracker?” one of the employees asked.
“The Queen of Hearts,” Mr. Jay roared and shot the man dead from the dark. A silencer, precise and efficient. Mr. Jay liked to kill calmly, as if saying hello to someone.
The rest of the employees narrowed their legs even more, suppressing a whole lot of laughter. The Queen of Hearts real name was Nutty?
“Yes, Mr. Jay,” one employee said. “Nutty—I mean the Queen of Hearts is dead.”
“Shot in the head,” another said.
“The Pillar shot her,” a third contributed, as if Mr. Jay hadn’t seen it on TV.
“I want the Pillar.” Mr. Jay rapped an unseen hand on the desk. “I want no excuses. I want him alive. I want him to beg for his life. I want to burn him alive.”
The employees promised they would find him, though none of them knew where the Pillar escaped to after shooting the Queen, Margaret, and Jack.
“What about Alice?” one employee asked.
“Alice will die. She can’t make it without the Pillar,” Mr. Jay said. “It’s still a mystery to me why the Pillar left without getting what he’s been after all along.”
“Maybe he did find it, Mr. Jay.”
“He didn’t. I know that for a fact. Today was supposed to be a new birthday for Black Chess, but the Pillar turned it into a funeral.”
The employees exchanged worried looks again. None of them wanted Mr. Jay’s anger to spark.
“So Black Chess’ plans failed?” an employees asked.
“I never fail,” Mr. Jay said. “I have a Plan B.”
“You do?”
“I always have. I had thought this to be my last card, but it seems like I’m going to lay it out sooner than I thought.”
“Would you mind sharing it, Mr. Jay?”
A long silence invaded the darkness. Then Mr. Jay said, “A war is coming. One that I’ve won before it’s even begun. It’s just that none of the Inklings gets it yet.”