Darren Craske - The equivoque principle

'Revenge against Quaint is just a bonus for me, Oliver. It is personal,' said the Frenchman, stepping closer to Dray. 'This is business. I'm revealing my identity to you now, should our paths cross again in the near future.' Reynolds swept a thick strand of hair from his forehead. 'Quid pro quo, remember? You're no fool, Oliver; you know how the Hades Consortium operates.'

Dray inhaled sharply at the words. 'The Hades Consortium has interests here? In…in Crawditch? I…I didn't know. Why did I not know?'

'The Consortium is not likely to broadcast its involvements. Our projects have strict time schedules to adhere to. It was not necessary for you to know what did not concern you, Oliver. Although you are unaware, I have been trying hard to save your neck all week, monsieur.'

'But…but why are you here?' asked Dray. 'Why now?'

The Frenchman's nostrils flared. 'Let's just say that The Consortium requires something of value in this pitiful little borough, and they sent me to negotiate its collection. Of course, when I heard my old friend Cornelius Quaint was en route to London as well…I just had to stick around for a few more days and have a little fun with him.'

Listening intently from within the seclusion of the nearby conifer trees, Prometheus felt a cold chill run up his spine as he heard the words. He knew very well from the intent in the Frenchman's voice that he was anything but a friend to Cornelius. What he was hearing now was a conversation that he needed to pass onto his employer urgently, and his secret position, hidden from sight, was essential. The more he heard and the longer he pushed his luck concealed within the nearby bushes, the more information he would have to pass on. Such was his concentration on his own stealth that he was completely oblivious to the person sneaking up slowly from behind.

'So, all this Hawkspear nonsense…that's you as well, is it?' Dray questioned.

'Certainly not.' The Frenchman laughed under his breath. 'Well, he's partly my fault, I suppose, but we're both working for someone else…someone other than The Consortium, someone with heavenly connections.'

Constable Jennings glanced across from Dray's to Reynolds's faces. 'I'm totally bloody lost, I am. This is all gettin' a bit too confusin' for me.'

Reynolds grinned at Jennings's naivety. 'Oliver, I wanted to let you know that no matter what my business is here in London -Cornelius Quaint will get his just reward. I have been waiting so very long, patiently biding my time, just for the right moment. I know just how to test him to his limits-and I know what his weaknesses are.' The man flicked his tongue about his lips, savouring the images he took from his words. 'Oedipus had nothing on me!'

Prometheus's temper had reached critical mass, and he was starting to get white spots before his eyes, he had restrained himself for so long. He clenched his jaw and prepared to leap into the yard, tearing this newcomer limb from limb. Just before he leapt, his muscles like a coiled spring; he felt a firm tug on his sleeve. He spun around sharply. At his side, Butter grinned up at him mischievously, and held his finger to his lips.

'Right,' said Dray, quaffing a swig of whisky from a silver hipflask. 'So, in exchange for keeping your mouth shut about my family's dealings…what more do you want from me, hmm?'

'Nothing,' said the gaunt man with a shrug. 'Not a thing. I didn't come here for more demands, Oliver. Like I said; I am only here to offer you a warning.'

'For free?' scoffed Dray.

'The Hades Consortium has invested a lot of time and money in your career, Oliver-remember that. They are not about to throw away one of their best assets.' The man walked over towards the tall gate, unlocking the bolts at the top and bottom of the frame. 'Your life is in danger, and soon someone will arrive and try and take it. I have gone to extreme measures to ensure that that someone was not me. You have enemies, Oliver…and they do not bow down to the law. If I were you, I would keep my eyes open, and never walk alone, no matter what time of day or night. I'll be seeing you. Au revoir, monsieur, et bon chance.' He stepped out into the lane that ran parallel behind the station, departing from the yard. The gate swung shut on the yard, leaving a dumbstruck Dray and Jennings to themselves, as if Reynolds had never been there at all.

Jennings skipped over to the swinging gate and went out into the lane. 'He's gone, sir. Nowhere to be seen,' he said.

'Like a ghost…' muttered Dray.

'So tell me…if he weren't Mr Reynolds…who the bloody hell was he anyway?'

Dray puffed out his cheeks, and made a point of exhaling loudly. 'That man is trouble with a capital "T", lad, and you'd do well to forget about him,' he said, catching Jennings's eyes. 'But I'll tell you this much, laddie…if things were bad for Cornelius Quaint before…they've just got ten times worse.'

CORNELIUS QUAINT STORMED out of the fortune-teller's tent, with Destine trailing after him. 'He's done what?' he raged. 'After I explicitly told him not to? This is intolerable Destine, it really is! I'll have to get there right away.'

'No, Cornelius, I beg of you-wait,' implored Destine. 'He's been gone for hours, just after you left for the prison. You'll never catch up with him.'

'Why on earth didn't you try to stop him?'

'What chance would I have of stopping a thundering titan like him? He is more involved in this than even you are, Cornelius. Do not forget that he stands accused of murdering the woman he loved. He just needs to do something.'

'Madame, how could I forget?' Quaint paused, rubbing at the back of his head as he tried to think what to do next. 'This is just typical. Just when we actually get somewhere, we end up taking two steps back.'

'I can see you're angry, Cornelius, but Prometheus is a big boy. He knows what he's doing, of that I am sure.'

'He thinks he knows what he's doing, you mean! I told him that Crawditch was a dangerous place for him to be, and I warned him about Dray-but he's just ridden roughshod over it. I wanted him kept away from that place because I saw the look of desperation in Dray's eyes-they need him to be their killer, Madame, he's all Dray's got, and he's too perfect a fit to let slip through his fingers…the leopard has not changed his spots after all.'

Destine placed her hand upon Quaint's shoulder, bringing the man towards her as she did so. 'Cornelius…Prometheus feels his very soul is in torment, and unless he walks right into that police station-and at least tries to get them to listen to him-he will always feel the hunted quarry.'

Quaint pulled away from her embrace, rubbing at his forehead furiously, as if trying to remove a dirty smudge. 'Hell's teeth, Destine, now of all times-why did he have to go to Crawditch alone? With what I learned at Blackstaff, that district is the last place on earth that Prometheus can expect to see justice.' Quaint rubbed his palms into his eyes, trying to clear the day's remnants from his head.

Destine moistened her lips, almost petrified to ask the question that formed itself in her mind, but she had to know what Quaint had discovered, perhaps giving her just enough breathing space to try and explain her actions to him. 'And what did you learn, my sweetheart?' she asked.

'I learned much, Madame. Not only was someone named Bishop Courtney responsible for Tom Hawkspear's release, but also, more importantly than that…it seems I have been extremely foolish. I have misjudged someone very dearly…at the cost of others' lives. It seems there is betrayal on all sides in this caper, it surely knows no limits,' said Quaint, striding away from the tent, the wind whipping at his clothes fiercely. 'I just don't know who I can trust any more.'