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ARTHUR IS THE LOUDEST AMONG THEM when the policemen manage to restrain him. Still, he flails around, all long limb and foam spitting out of his mouth as he curses his younger brother's name. The recipient of the insults stays still as a pole, and coldly immune behind his desk.
The policemen slammed Polly and Michael against the wall, shrill scream of the whistles serving as a cold slap against the violence occurring in the room.
Esme is the close second, screeching John's and Tommy's name at intervals, followed by some ancient Romani curses very few could understand; but the sentiment was well aware and ricocheting in the opulence of the office, the gilded facade of a man long dead and buried somewhere between Flanders and Birmingham.
"Mrs Shelby? If we could have a word?"
The soft words snap Caterina out of her blank stare, watching as the room erupted in an avalanche. An officer stands beside her, waiting patiently.
A slow smile spreads from the corner of her lip, but never reaches her eyes. "Not a Shelby, I'm sorry to disappoint you. We didn't have the opportunity to tie the knot." Fierce amber locks with icy blue over the chaos. She doesn't give him the disappointed stare as she perhaps should have, only stares right through to his soul.
"I'm obliged to take you in for questioning on the matter of deaths of Vincente and Angel Changretta," the man speaks, somewhat fidgeting uncomfortably. She wonders if its her that makes him uncomfortable, the notion of arresting the most powerful woman in Birmingham. If anything, he should be ecstatic for the opportunity.
"Are you arresting me officer?" a terrifyingly bitter smirk plays on her lips, as she breaks the cold stand off with her fiancé, "it seems to be a common occurrence in this household."
"No, ma'am, only need to ask you a few questions. For the records," he's quick to explain with a shake of his hat clad head, "I will have someone return you back home immediately after."
She nods mutely, following him out of the door and down the grand staircase. The office still echoes with Esme and Linda screaming obscenities at the man behind the grand scheme. Lizzie had sneaked out moments after first officers burst in, hurrying to dispose the wads of money into the safe.
"Did you know about this, Cat?" Polly spits when two officers haul her next to them, "You scheming wench! Whoring wops, the lot of you!"
She's silent as the woman who was more than her mother spat vile curses at her, wildly trashing against the officer's hold. The maids gathered at the bottom of the staircase, glancing among each other with terror as the house descended into madness. Cat sent them a reassuring smile as she walked past.
They load Arthur, John and Michael in one van, and Polly in the other. She watches them drive away from the top of the stairs, listening as familiar footsteps slowly approached them from behind.
