Diana Peterfreund - Under the Rose

“I think they were judging our responses,” said Josh. “And when we didn’t seem to express any interest in the idea, they didn’t invite us in.”

“I got invited,” said Harun, softly. “At least, in retrospect, I think that’s what they were trying to do.”

All eyes turned to him.

“It was a few months ago, just after Straggler Initiation Night. I went out for drinks with Ben and Nikolos and we were shooting the shit, talking about investment banking, things like that. I didn’t understand how the society worked yet. I thought they were trying to recruit me into some sort of Digger fund-raising committee. I didn’t have time for it—not with all of my other activities. So I said no.” He looked around at all the stricken faces. “I didn’t know what it was. I thought they were trying to get me to volunteer. That was the last I heard of it.”

“So if you’d known, would you have joined?” asked Demetria.

“Hell, no,” Harun said. “I don’t roll with that sexist crap.”

“Really?” said Juno. “I’d have thought—”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Thanks. I seem to have left all my burkas in my other bag, or I’d give you one.”

“Peace out,” said Demetria. “Can we do the racist commentary later?”

“For your information,” Juno said with a sneer, “it has nothing to do with race. I was going to say that Harun told me he didn’t know they let women in until he arrived in August. I got the impression he wasn’t pleased.”

“It was you who weren’t pleased, if I remember correctly,” said Clarissa. “Hypocritical, sure. But you weren’t pleased.”

“Just because I don’t agree with the principle behind a tax cut doesn’t mean I’m not going to pay anyway,” Mara replied.

“All right, guys, leaving behind the sticky logic for a moment, let’s move along to the point where we figure out what we’re going to do next.” The sooner this was decided, the sooner I could go to bed.

Mara eyed Jenny. “Why should we do anything? She’s admitted to lying to us, to using our own fears against us, to tricking us into casting suspicion on one another. How do we know this isn’t Phase Two?”

Now who was the paranoid one? Of course, if I’d had a few moments of sleep the previous evening, maybe I’d have ruminated on the possibility as well. “That’s awfully diabolical of her, wouldn’t you say?”

“Takes one to know one,” Clarissa said. “What plan to take down a diabolical organization wouldn’t be equally diabolical?”

“You’re speculating,” said Josh, “that these last few days have been part of an elaborate plot to convince us to trust her when she presented information showing a third of our club has been conspiring against us? Wouldn’t we have believed her more readily before we knew she’d betrayed us all?”

Clarissa pursed her lips. “Okay, you’re right. When you put it like that it does sound a little unlikely.”

Greg snorted and held up one of the Elysion e-mails Jenny had printed. “Those bastards. Listen to this: ‘We’ve gotten a lot of support for our cause from the willing patriarchs, especially those from whom donations in general have been way down. The only remaining concern is what to do about the balance of the trust. It would be easy enough to redirect a portion of appreciation/dividends into the new account, but this is hardly a worthwhile trust. Yours under the rose, Hades.’ They’re stealing our money.”

“Well,” Jenny said, “they think it’s their money, too.”

“They can’t do that, though, right?” I asked. “Even if it’s all part of the Tobias Trust Association, they can’t just decide on a new budget that includes secret funds to Elysion without the vote of the board, or of the club. Right?”

“Definitely,” Josh said. “And I doubt most of the board even knows about this. You haven’t been able to contact your guy, have you, Amy?”

“He’s in Iceland,” I said. “I left him a voice mail, but…” For all I knew, some Elysian with access to Gus’s Digger in-box could be erasing any message clueing him in on the plot.

“Listen to this,” said Demetria, holding up another e-mail. “‘I doubt the club will meet Sunday night, due to the current atmosphere of scrutiny. Now is the perfect time to decide upon our next move. Why delay? This is our moment. The old order is crumbling. Let’s not get caught in the rubble. Yours under the rose’…et cetera.”

“Who wrote that one?” Mara asked.

“Um, someone named Hector.”

All of a sudden, Odile straightened. “Wait. I’ve heard of this before. Elysion.”

Demetria eyed her. “Don’t tell me you got an invite.”

“No, I read about them. In the annals. They existed once before, when the club first began accepting non-white and non-Christian members. Some of the old guard were upset, so they formed a secret secret club.”

“Gross,” said Jenny. “What happened to it?”

Odile shrugged. “I don’t remember the details, but it’s in the Black Books. I guess the rest of the club discovered it and flipped out.”

“So now history is repeating itself,” I said.

Demetria put down the e-mail. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go nail these jackasses to the wall.”

“First we’ve got to find them,” said Clarissa. “Where do we think they’re meeting? It’s not at the tomb. I was just there.”

“Did you go all over?” Josh asked.

“I didn’t search the place, if that’s what you mean, but it was definitely empty. I was upstairs, downstairs—I even went into the kitchen, because someone left the light on down there. Total ghost town.”

I picked up another sheet. “Does it say anything about location in these e-mails?”

“Precious little,” said Jenny. “Which I suppose means they always meet in the same place, since they never feel the need to announce location, only time.”

“When do they meet?” asked Josh. “Maybe we can narrow it down based on that.”

Jenny began flipping through the pages. “Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday, here’s a Monday, a Tuesday, a Friday, another Wednesday. There was a Saturday the first weekend in October—”

“I remember that night,” said Odile. “It was the Jane Fonda marathon Kevin insisted we all go to and then he disappeared in the middle of it.”

“George wasn’t there, either,” I said. We’d gotten in a fight about it.

“Do you think they were trying to keep us busy?” Greg said. “If we were all at the theater, then we couldn’t be—”

“In the tomb,” said Clarissa. “But they weren’t there just now. I swear I would have noticed.”

I looked at the e-mails Jenny had discarded. I’d spent so much time with George in the last few weeks. Where had I seen him? One of the Wednesday meetings caught my eye. Like I’d forget that night. George and me, in the tomb. But it made no sense. He hadn’t been at any Elysion meeting. He’d been with me.

But I hadn’t heard the door open when he’d come in. And his skin hadn’t been cold from the outside. And he’d guaranteed me that everyone had gone home for the night…. Oh, God.

“They meet in the tomb,” I said. “I’m sure of it.”

Josh’s eyes met mine and a flicker of understanding passed between us. “But where?” he asked. “Not the Inner Temple, surely.”

Is that how George had known there were no cameras? I couldn’t bear to think of it. “And not the Firefly Room or the Library.” I would have heard them. “I think it’s unlikely to be anyplace on the main floor. Are there any rooms in the tomb I’m not aware of?”

“Considering it’s you, probably,” Clarissa said with a smile.