Family Ties

Part 50

Raymond sat in the limousine driver's seat waiting for his passenger to get in. Within a minute a flurry of perfume and hurried greetings filled the car before the door was slammed shut and Raymond pulled away.

"This is not my usual route." She tapped the window separating them. "Devon, what's going on?" She tapped the window again.

Raymond lowered the glass to look at her in the rearview mirror, watching her leap back in her seat and scream.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Beatrice had never been so afraid in her life. She was staring at a lifeless white mask surrounded by black. It was something that appeared in your nightmares.

"My dear friend Saul said you were looking for me."

"What is it you want? Is it money?" What had she gotten herself into she thought fearfully, but quickly regained her composure. This was business and there was always a price for the correct information. 

"No Mrs Dealer, I don't want your money." He laughed sinisterly. "You wanted to speak to me, so here I am, listening." He slowed the car down to get a better look at her. From the change in her composure, it was apparent that she'd gotten over her shock from earlier.

"I think I know what you are looking for." She calmly informed him. "I think that we may have a common interest and pooling our resources together would make finding what we both want so much easier."

"And why would I work with you? From what I hear nobody wants to take your case. I'm sure you've heard all about poor Saul's family."

"Don't think you can threaten me, I'm not some underhanded shark ready to make a buck!" She snapped at him. He was right, there was no reason for him to work with her, but everybody had a price and she only needed to find his.

"I think you'll come to realise that I don't make threats, Mrs Dealer." There was steel in his voice that made her shiver when she looked at those dead slits where his eyes should be. No, this man didn't need to make threats, his ominous presence and the implied threat in his voice made it clear that he was in control.

"You are looking for a gem that you think your son stole." He didn't wait for her to respond before continuing. "I don't think we are looking for the same thing, so it would be in your best interest to stop meddling in my business."

"What do you know about the gem?" She was desperate. It had been lost for so long, but she needed it. 

"I don't think you understand the position you're in Mrs Dealer. You don't get to ask questions and you don't get to meddle in my business. Nobody does!"

The threat was clear, but desperation propelled her forward.

"I don't quit that easily. You can either join me or I can do this on my own." She tried to stop her voice from shaking.

"Then I'm afraid you're in for a rough surprise." He pulled the car over and turned to face her. "Every drop of blood that is spilt will be on your hands and I hope you can sleep with that."

"Now, I won't kill you this time. But if I could give some advice, don't get out of the car, this is not the type of neighbourhood where your kind is welcome." He watched as she visibly recoiled at his words, frantically looking out of the window.

"Now, I've done you a favour, so you owe me one." He turned to look at her through the rearview mirror again. "Be sure that I will come to collect on that debt." 

He handed her his card, got out of the car, locked the doors behind him and threw the keys into a nearby dumpster. That should keep her occupied long enough to imagine the worst things possible happening. 

Getting into a blue station wagon, he drove off, removing his mask and hat once he'd hit the highway.

--

"Damon, what do you know about someone called the Inquisitor." Beatrice looked at Damon who was sitting with his whisky in hand. They regularly met to play golf and after a frustrating game, she decided to tackle Damon.

"Only that when he's involved, everybody backs off. Nothing good comes from doing business with him, why?"

"He abducted me the other night and told me to stay out of his way." She admitted. There must be some way around this person or at least someone who was willing to take her case.

"Then you got off lucky," Damon calmly told her. "Just make sure you don't owe him any favours. They say that when he comes to collect there's always blood involved." He looked at her, watching her eyes grow bigger in fear.

"Did he give you a card?" He asked sharply when she didn't respond. He reached out as she handed him the card with shaky hands. "This isn't good. See here?" He pointed at the sad mask on the card. "It means that you are a target. When there is a happy mask, then you are under his protection."

"Beatrice, what's this all about that you would risk your life by talking to someone like the Inquisitor?"

"It's a family matter." She took the card back. "Is there no way for me to convince you to continue the investigation?" She asked desperately. Everybody knew Damon's ruthless reputation and no one would dare cross him in business.

"Now that the Inquisitor is involved, I can't put everything at risk, even for a friend." He shook his head, frowning. "Whatever it is, for your own safety, don't get involved with this man or get in his way.

"Have you come across him before?" She asked out of curiosity. How would Damon handle a person like that?

"Only briefly. It's not an experience I wish to repeat, no matter how much money you give me." He added. Best to lay it on thick to make the Inquisitor sound as intimidating and scary as possible.

"Then I'll have to keep looking for someone who can help." She said with determination. "I'm not going to let one person scare me."

"I know I can't talk you out of it, but I must warn you against interfering with the Inquisitor or getting in his way. Beatrice, you don't know what extremes that man would go to to get what he wanted."