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Simon Tolkien: The King of Diamonds

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Simon Tolkien The King of Diamonds

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‘Christ, Franz. Can’t I rely on anyone?’ asked Titus angrily.

‘We wouldn’t have had the problem if you hadn’t brought her here,’ said Franz, gesturing with his thumb toward the drawing room door.

‘It’s my house. I’ll do what I want in it.’

Franz met Titus’s eye but otherwise didn’t respond, and Titus paused, took a deep breath, and nodded.

‘Is your sister hurt?’ he asked.

‘Yes, but she’ll be all right. The point is she can’t help us now. That’s why I fetched you. It needs two of us to find the girl.’

‘Yes, you were right. Could she have got outside?’

‘Maybe, when you opened the door. But I think it’s more likely she’s hiding somewhere. If we don’t find her, I’ll go after her in the car. She can’t get far; she’s got no money.’

‘All right. You carry on upstairs. I’ll look down here after I’ve told Vanessa. I’m sorry, Franz. You were right to tell me.’

Katya stood at the back of a small closet under the stairs on the other side of the entrance hall from the drawing room. The coat rail running down the centre of the closet was only half-filled and she’d pushed the coats and mackintoshes to the front, creating a hiding place for herself at the back. One coat in particular reached down almost to the floor, and so she’d been all but invisible when Franz had peered inside a moment before. Now she stood holding on to the rail with both hands for support while she listened intently to Franz and her uncle through the half-open door. She felt terrible. Her right arm hurt constantly where Jana’s needle had gone into her vein. The bitch — Jana deserved exactly what she’d got. Katya wished she’d kicked Jana a few more times when she’d had the chance. But some of the sedative must have got into her system. She had been fighting drowsiness ever since she got downstairs, and now she felt almost grateful for the pain throbbing in her arm since it was at least keeping her awake — but for how much longer she didn’t know. Releasing her left hand from the rail, she squeezed her right wrist hard. Pain was good, and she wished that she had nails to dig into her skin, but she had bitten them all down to the quick long ago.

Damn them; damn them all! What right did they have to treat her like this? She wished Ethan was here to help her. More than two years later and she still missed him as much as ever. So much for time as the great healer, she thought bitterly. She remembered how they had stood together in this same hall and how she had put her arms around his waist and buried her head in his chest and felt for a moment that her life was perfect — nothing needed to be added; nothing needed to be taken away. Everything was exactly right. But it had all been an illusion, a chimera made of delicate crystal glass that had shattered into a thousand tiny pieces a long time ago. Ethan had died with a knife in his back and she’d gone down to skid row and ended up a prisoner in her own bedroom, starved and terrified, without a friend in the world.

Except that now she had a chance, a small chance but a chance nonetheless. If she could just stay awake and escape detection long enough to tell this woman what had happened, then maybe someone would come and help her. So what if the woman had something going with her uncle. From what she’d overheard in the last few minutes, this Vanessa sounded normal, nice even. And Franz and her uncle didn’t want Vanessa to know she was here. That much was obvious. Why else would they have got Jana to give her the injection?

Another wave of exhaustion swept over Katya. She hung desperately on to the coat rail, but there was no strength left in her arms and her legs were giving way beneath her. But then, just as she felt sure she was going to fall, she heard Franz above her head going up the stairs. She knew it was him because she could hear the unevenness of his steps; it was unmistakable the way he always dragged his left leg behind him as he walked. A war wound like the scar below his ear. Katya just wished that whoever had inflicted those injuries had had a truer aim and put an end to Franz Claes once and for all.

Franz was gone, but what about her uncle? Carefully she reached past the coats, pushed the closet door open a little further and peered out into the hall. Her uncle was standing with his back to her, stroking his beard as if lost in thought. It was unbearable. He’d told Franz he was going to search for her, so why didn’t he? Instead, after a moment he turned and went back into the drawing room. Katya swayed from side to side. She needed air desperately. It was stuffy in the closet and the narrowness of the hiding place had started to make her claustrophobic. And she needed to know what her uncle was saying to this woman he’d invited over. Throwing caution to the winds, she went out into the hall and stood in a recess to the right of the drawing room door, listening. She was taking a terrible risk. She was in plain view from across the hall, and Franz or Jana would have seen her straightaway if they’d come down the stairs, but instinctively she knew that it was now or never if she was going to make her move. The sedative had taken hold, and she only had a little time left.

‘I’m sorry, Vanessa. Something has come up and Franz needs my help for a few minutes. It can’t be avoided, I’m afraid. Will you be all right?’ It was her uncle’s voice, and Vanessa answered.

‘Of course I will,’ she said. ‘But would you prefer me to go? We can always rearrange.’

No, thought Katya desperately, clasping her hands together in silent prayer. No, please don’t go. But she needn’t have worried — her uncle came instantly to her rescue.

‘Absolutely not, my dear,’ he said. ‘You would be breaking my heart if you were to go now. I’ve been looking forward to this evening all week.’ Always the elaborate courtesy, Katya thought. He never changed.

‘And so have I,’ said Vanessa, sounding pleased. ‘I’ll be fine. How could I not be with this wonderful view to look at?’

‘Thank you for being so understanding. I won’t be long. Help yourself to another drink if you want one. Everything’s over there on the sideboard.’

Katya couldn’t believe how relaxed her uncle sounded. There was not a hint of panic in his voice. But he was a different person once he was outside in the hall. He glanced quickly from side to side, but not behind him, where Katya was standing, and then headed purposefully toward his study and the rooms at the back of the house. She had no time to lose. She went into the drawing room and closed the door softly behind her.

Vanessa had moved away from the mantelpiece and was now standing in front of the far window looking out into the twilight with a glass of wine in her hand. She turned around, putting her glass down when she heard the door open, and looked shocked when she saw Katya. The girl’s haggard appearance was certainly alarming. White as a sheet, Katya stood swaying from side to side with a half-crazed, desperate look in her eye, and then suddenly leant forward, gripping the back of a sofa in order to stay upright.

Vanessa was frightened and her first instinct was to shout for help, but Katya saw this coming. Desperately she put her right forefinger up to her mouth, fastening onto Vanessa’s eyes with her own, and the cry died in Vanessa’s throat.

‘Who are you?’ Vanessa asked instead. And then, just as she’d finished the question, she realized she knew the answer. The girl was Titus’s niece. She’d been at the dinner party here at Blackwater Hall that Bill had taken her to after David Swain’s conviction — the first night she’d met Titus. She remembered being struck then by how pretty the girl was with her luminous blue eyes and her long blond hair arranged in an elaborate chignon. And her cheeks had been brightly flushed, perhaps from drinking too much champagne but also because she was excited at the outcome of the trial. There was nothing wrong with that. It was the reason for the gathering after all. But Vanessa remembered how it had seemed so personal for the girl. Swain, her previous lover, had killed Katya’s new boyfriend in a fit of jealousy, and she clearly hated him for it. She’d almost been saying that life imprisonment wasn’t enough, that the man deserved to hang. Perhaps she had actually said that. Vanessa couldn’t remember. Well, the girl had certainly changed since then. Vanessa thought she would never have recognized this wraithlike apparition as Katya Osman if the girl’s presence in Titus’s house hadn’t provided her with the connection.

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