The Tattered Thread
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Silas sat on the floor of the parlor watching a seven-inch mechanical bull raising and lowering its head, drumming one hoof against the carpet, and then charging into an overturned footstool. It was one of his favorite automatons. He always got them out whenever he needed companionship or felt depressed. And why wouldn’t he feel depressed? His father was dead and his mother was close to being arrested for his murder. Living without parents, even bad ones, was a bleak existence.
The mechanical bull put down its head and charged into the cushion again. Thick, stainless steel legs covered with genuine rawhide sounded strained during each movement, the carpet making it more difficult for the toy to walk. But it was a persistent machine, beating the odds with a tic, tic, tic and a whirrrl, and managing to move wherever it wanted to go time after time.
Silas looked up at Tasia, who was sitting nearby on a handmade floral settee, and smiled at her. They had been through a lot together, and the quest wasn’t over yet. At least they’d managed to survive the worst of it. Their bond was strong, and knowing what had led them to this point in their lives explained a lot. A gilded cage with a mechanical bird inside was in a niche in the wall behind Tasia’s head. Prophetically, the cage door had been left open, and the symbol of freedom couldn’t have made itself apparent at a more appropriate time.
Marlon finally arrived, slinking down the hall as only he could and coming into the parlor like a man riddled with grief. When he saw Tasia, he practically fell at her feet. “My God, Tasia!” he said, bending over the arm of the couch she was sitting on to emphasize his fragile condition. His tie wasn’t clipped and his suit jacket was open, so the tip of his conservative blue tie rested against the paisley shawl hanging over the arm of her seat. “What on earth happened to Carl?”
“He’s dead.”
“I know he’s dead. What happened to him?”
“He was beaten and stabbed.”
Shaking his wiry head, Marlon seemed truly bereaved by the news. “It’s horrible, that’s all. Just horrible! When did he die?”
“Around eleven last night, or so I’ve been told. The others would know that better than I.”
“Why? You were with him last night, weren’t you?”
Hesitating, she gave her nails a good look before answering. Her hands were shaking, but that was probably a symptom of substance withdrawal rather than nervousness. At least she’d dressed down for the occasion, a pair of brown slacks now covering her able legs. A baggy sweatshirt rounded off her casual look. “No,” she said, “I’m not always around when the shit flies, Marlon.”
Marlon stood up again, taking offense to her tone. “Could’ve fooled me,” he said, looking down his long nose. His New England brogue was even starting to irritate Elaine.
“Well, it’s easy to fool a fool,” she shot back. She always came out on top during these putdown sessions between them, and he should’ve learned a long time ago to give it a rest before she made him look bad.
“You were with him, weren’t you?” he asked, not being able to let the conversation rest. “I’d wanted to take him out for a drink, but he told me he was celebrating with you tonight.”
“Celebrating what?”
“My promotion.”
“What promotion?”
Sticking his chest out as far as it would go, he said, “I’m second banana.” Even Silas looked up to see if Marlon was joking. Funny, but he didn’t seem to be.
“Stop hallucinating,” Tasia said.
“Didn’t Carl tell you about it?”
“He didn’t tell me anything.”
“So you were with him last night. I guess he forgot to tell you.”
“We were in the same house, but we weren’t together.”
“Oh, come on. Carl told me….”
“I don’t give a damn what he told you! Besides, it’s none of your business who I was with.”
“Being secretive, huh?” he said. “Afraid that if the police find out about you two, then you’d be a suspect?” Nodding, he started shaking his finger at her as if he were onto something. “All right, have it your way. The way you carry on, I guess you could’ve been with any man in the county last night, am I right?”
“Any man but you, Marlon.” She cut her bloodshot eyes away from his and watched Silas play with the bull automaton again. “And the day you get a promotion, the blessed saints will declare me virginal once again and I’ll eat a whole bowl of crow.”
Frowning because he couldn’t think of a clever riposte fast enough, he turned away from her and said, “Does anybody know what’s going on around here? My whole world is crumbling!”
“The police are trying to figure out who killed Dad,” Silas said. “It’s not obvious yet who’s responsible.”
“Well, that’s just swell,” he said for no particular reason. “While the authorities are scratching their heads and pretending to do their jobs, I could save them the trouble.”
“Oh, really?” Tasia said. “Did you murder him?”
“No, but I’d bet everything I’ve got that Nicolette did.”
“Nicolette? Are you kidding me?”
“No, I’m not,” he said emphatically. “I know her for the sniveling, conniving wretch she is! She killed Carl just as sure as I’m standing here.”
“You can’t be serious,” Tasia said, shaking her head. “Nicolette wouldn’t kill anybody.”
“A lot you know about human nature. And you know even less about business.”
“Well, you’re right about that,” Tasia admitted, raising her hands. “But at this point, half the house had a good reason to kill Carl, so that puts us back to square one. Besides, everybody knows about the grudge you have against Nicolette. The two of you have been vying for the same position for years.”
“True, but as I said, the boss decided yesterday who was going to fill the position of second seater.” He paused as if to stress the point. “And that would be me.”
A statement like that drew Silas’s attention again, and this time his mechanical bull reared its head to a quizzical halt right in front of a walnut étagère.
“Carl would never let a bumbling idiot like you run things,” Tasia told him.
“Oh yes, he would,” Marlon said, not realizing that he’d just called himself an idiot.
“Have you taken a hit?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I asked if you’ve hit the main line? Are you cranking up? Joy-popping, like I wish I was doing at this moment?”
He looked at her as if she were speaking another language.
“Did you tap into my stash? Have you been laying on a reefer, a joint? Are you on drugs, is what I’m asking you.”
“Of course not.”
“Because there is no way in hell Carl would hand a position with that much authority over to a guy like you. I’m sorry. You’re a buffoon, Marlon, and the whole world knows it. You’re one of those people who has to be told what to do on a daily basis. There isn’t an innovative bone in your entire body.”
Marlon raised his square chin up as if proud of what he’d accomplished. “If you don’t believe me, ask Katerina.” Every face in the room looked baffled. “She took the notes. Ask her.”
“Why would Dad do that, I wonder?” Silas said, staring at Tasia.
“He wouldn’t do that,” she said. “I don’t care what Kate’s notes say.”
“You’re just jealous, that’s all,” Marlon muttered, plopping himself down on a large round pouffe in the center of the room and crossing his arms and legs. Their criticism of his capabilities offended him, and he decided to sit by himself and stew on it for awhile.
When Nicolette’s interrogation by the police was over, she passed by the parlor where they were sitting and appeared absolutely rattled. Elaine had never seen her look so worried. But then again, everybody looked a bit shaken after going a round or two with Connery and Slye. Nicolette glanced inside the room as she passed by but never bothered to stop. Perhaps seeing
Marlon sitting there provided her with the inspiration she needed to keep her feet moving.
“Now she’s got the right idea,” Tasia said, watching Nicolette as she disappeared behind a pair of leaded glass door panels decorated with curvilinear floral designs. “Get the hell out of here and don’t look back.”