Jonathan froze in his seat. Despite the oppressive heat in the glasshouse, a sliver of ice ran down his spine. Vendetta kept his light blue eyes trained on Jonathan. In the silence, the trickling of the stream sounded like the roar of a waterfall. He forced himself to meet Vendetta’s gaze as steadily as possible. If he looked guilty, he was done for. Thank God he had changed out of his normal clothes.
Though Carnegie must have been as stunned as Jonathan, he hid it well. His head was bowed, as if he was deep in thought. Eventually he looked up and cleared his throat.
“That doesn’t sound like the sort of thing I usually do.”
“It’s not the sort of thing that I usually ask for. Terribly exciting, isn’t it?”
“I’m not going over to Lightside.”
“I’m not asking you to. The boy’s here.”
Carnegie snorted. “A Lightside boy? Here? I doubt that. Even if he did manage to cross over – for whatever reason – he’d be dead by now.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But I’ve got a feeling that he’s still very much alive.”
Again Vendetta’s gaze flicked back to Jonathan, whose head was spinning with questions. How did the richest man in Darkside know his name? What did he want with him? Was it just a coincidence that he wanted to hire Carnegie, or did he know that his target was sitting directly in front of him? The sweat was now pouring down Jonathan’s face. He hoped that Vendetta would put it down to the heat.
“OK, say the boy’s still alive and I track him down. What do you want with him?”
“That’s none of your concern. I’m only asking you to deliver him to me.”
“I don’t know. . .” the wereman said dubiously. “It all sounds a bit strange to me.”
A look of exasperation flashed across Vendetta’s face. “Damn it, Carnegie, it’s not that difficult. Do you want the case or not?”
“I couldn’t have a drink while I’m thinking about it, could I?”
Vendetta’s jaw tightened. He eyeballed Carnegie for several seconds, before forcing his mouth to relax into a smile. “Of course. Let me just ring for the maid.”
He rose smoothly from his chair and moved over to a table on the far edge of the patio, where an old-fashioned phone was obscured by a voluminous fern. He picked up the receiver without bothering to dial, and spoke in a curt manner.
“Raquella, I’m in the glasshouse. Bring me a new bottle and another two glasses.”
Carnegie raised an eyebrow as he hung up. “A phone in the glasshouse?”
“A necessary extravagance. I conduct a lot of business here. . . Oh, I should have asked. Does the boy want anything? He looks a little flushed.”
Carnegie’s head spun round a little too quickly.
“No, no. . .” Jonathan cut in hastily. “I’m a bit hot, but I’m not thirsty at all.”
The truth was, his mouth was parched and his throat was sore, but he didn’t want to attract any more attention to himself. If he had to drink a glass of water, he wouldn’t be able to stop his hand from shaking.
“Don’t worry about him, Vendetta. He’ll be fine. As soon as his father pays up, he can go home and drink all the water he wants to.”
Vendetta laughed. “And you wonder why I want to hire you?”
“I guessed it was because of that business with McIlroy. . .”
The two men began reminiscing over old Darkside feuds, and Jonathan felt himself slip out of the limelight. He found it strange to watch the two of them talking. Although the suave businessman and the shabby private detective were very different people, they were inextricably linked by the seedy world they lived in. They may not have liked each other but there was something between them, a grudging respect for each other’s power.
Then Jonathan heard the door to the glasshouse gently open and close. He watched as a small girl appeared from between two large palm trees, balancing a drinks tray expertly in one hand. She was wearing a black dress and a white apron, which contrasted sharply with her flaming red hair. Even from a distance, Jonathan couldn’t fail to recognize her. It was the girl who had saved him on the Grand. Which meant that she knew his name and, in all probability, he was done for.
“Ah, Raquella. Just leave the drinks over there, please.”
She curtsied neatly and did as she was told. Jonathan held his breath. All it needed was for her to look up and say his name, and the game would be up. Luckily for him, she kept her eyes respectfully down, and didn’t look at either of the guests. Vendetta poured out a glass for Carnegie and handed it to him. The wereman took a long, messy swig, sending a spray of liquid down the front of his shirt. Vendetta shuddered, and took a delicate sip. The maid turned to leave, and was nearly out of sight before her master called her back. Jonathan’s heart sank.
“Oh, Raquella. I think you know Carnegie.”
She nodded, blushing, and smiled shyly at the wereman. He gave her a cheery wave in return. “Hello there, little miss. How’s your mother and father doing these days? I haven’t seen them for a while.”
“They’re well, Mr Carnegie. Thanks to you.”
“Good. Tell them I said hello.”
Vendetta smiled idly, and poured himself more drink from the bottle. “And have you met Mr Carnegie’s hostage, Tobias, Raquella?”
At last, her gaze fell upon Jonathan. Immediately there was a flicker of recognition on her face. Luckily for both of them, Vendetta’s back was still turned. Jonathan nodded politely, and tried to look at ease. Carnegie must have sensed what was going on, because he glanced at Raquella and placed a finger over his lips.
Quickly recovering her composure, she gave a slight nod. “Hello, Tobias. You are lucky to have such an honourable kidnapper.”
“I don’t feel that lucky. He’s already tried to eat me,” Jonathan replied, truthfully.
Vendetta clapped with delight. “The boy has some spirit, after all! I thought he was just going to sit there and sweat! You may go now, Raquella. I think you have made enough of an impact.”
The girl’s cheeks reddened again, and with a curtsy she hurried out of the glasshouse. Carnegie took another long sip as Vendetta turned to face him. “So then, wereman. You’ve had enough of my drink. Are you going to take my case or not?”
“I’m not sure I can refuse. I’ll take it.”
“I always thought there was a brain rattling somewhere inside that head of yours. That’s a wise choice. Come here. I’ve got something I want to show you.”
Vendetta beckoned conspiratorially, and moved off the patio into the undergrowth. In this part of the glasshouse the plants had wrestled free from the confines of their soil beds, and long vines covered the concrete floor. Foliage closed in above their heads. Jonathan was suddenly very glad of Carnegie’s presence in front of him.
They came out by an ornamental pool that had been dug into the floor, its surface flat and blank. Next to the pool there was an iron bench, perhaps placed there so that people could enjoy the peace and tranquillity of the setting amidst the plants. The current occupant of the bench wouldn’t have appreciated it, though. He was dead. The corpse was propped up on the bench, his limbs twisted into stiff contortions. His face had turned bone white, and his mouth was wide open in an eternal scream. However he had died, he had suffered first.
Jonathan gasped. He had never seen a dead body before. The posture reminded him of his dad after a darkening, only this man was never going to wake up. Carnegie gripped his shoulder tightly in support, and moved ever so slightly in front of Jonathan. Vendetta walked calmly over to the bench and shook his head with mock remorse. He then began spraying a leafy plant behind the corpse’s head.
“I wanted this man to work for me – made him a very generous offer, in fact – but he refused. Said that he was worried about the responsibility. Honestly. I tried to change his mind, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“So what did you do to him?” It was Jonathan who asked the question, his voice trembling.
Vendetta turned to him and smiled, revealing a set of long, sharp fangs. “What did I do? I sliced him open and drained every last drop of blood from his body. It wasn’t much of a meal, Tobias. He was a rather scrawny character.”
Jonathan stepped back in horror. His knees felt weak and there was a surge of nausea in his belly. Vendetta watched him struggle with undisguised amusement. “Now, Carnegie. That is most unfair. You’re one of the few people who know about my condition. You might have warned the boy.”
“Why are you showing us this? Is it a threat?”
“No. It’s a guarantee.” Menace flashed in Vendetta’s eyes. “You cross me, you will pay for it. You, the boy, anyone I feel like blaming. Are we clear?”
Carnegie nodded.
“Good. Then bring me the Starling child. You can leave now.”
With that he turned his back and resumed his spraying, humming a strange tune quietly to himself.
Although the sky was black and fat raindrops were falling across the grounds of Vendetta Heights, it felt good to be out of the glasshouse and in the open air. Jonathan’s shirt was dripping with sweat, and the cool air on his back was a blessed relief. He stretched out his arms and spun round slowly as Carnegie closed the glasshouse door behind him. It was a total shock when the wereman grabbed him roughly by the collar and hauled him up into the air.
“What . . . have . . . you . . . done?” he hissed through clenched teeth.
“Oww! I don’t know! Carnegie! Let me down!”
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” Carnegie roared again. His eyes glittered with feral intent.
“I don’t know! Sssh! He’ll hear you!”
Carnegie blinked, and abruptly dropped Jonathan in a heap on the ground. The wereman spat out a curse and rubbed his head furiously, thinking hard. “OK. Not the boy’s fault,” he muttered to himself. “Don’t blame the boy. Come on. We have to get out of here.”
He hauled Jonathan up on to his feet, and propelled him back up the terrace and towards the front of the house. Jonathan’s eyes were still watering from Carnegie’s attack, and he stumbled with the fast pace. “Why did you do that? You’re meant to be my protector!”
The wereman stopped in his tracks. He sighed. “Look, boy, I’m sorry. I’ve got a few rough edges. In fact, I haven’t really got any smooth ones. My job demands it. Things are going to get pretty hairy round here, and I need to know what’s going on. Like, what Vendetta wants with you.”
“I told you, I don’t know!”
“Well, we need to find out, boy. Crossing that man is like signing your own death warrant. Come on. We need to get out of here. He might twig at any second.”
As they passed by the front of the house and began up the long driveway leading out of the grounds, Jonathan detected a movement coming from one of the rooms on the top floor of Vendetta Heights. There was a flash of red hair – Raquella was watching them leave. For a reason that he couldn’t explain, Jonathan waved up at her. There was no reply, and the curtain was drawn swiftly across the window. In the background, there was a loud rumble of thunder.