Charlotte Gaspel: Demons and Ghosts

VIII: The Last Loan

Charlie's abdomen was aching, and it wasn't from hunger.

Everything looked clear, and The Coffin had no suspicions about the family's escape plan. Sunlight was vaguely visible on that cloudy morning. Jeff, Clara and Charlie could smell the winds of change; they could hear hope in the birdsong; they could even hope for the best in the future.

The day had come. Everything was packed. Everything was ready. All that remained was to act.

The clock was ticking. It was sixteen minutes past six and Jeff and Clara were walking straight towards The Coffin. They walked with hurry; they walked with care; they walked with a lot of fear until they reached the building. The guards let them in, they passed all the security filters and finally they were behind the red door of the boss: Mr. Clement, the Great Lord Hector Clement.

They stood static for twelve seconds staring at the door until they decided to open it so they could talk to him and make the proposal.

The office of a mob boss is always something to admire. All the fancy things a deity can have in his work area dazzle the eye, partly because of the elegant and superb aesthetics they create, but mainly because you know you can never come close to paying for anything that is in that red-walled room.

And there he is, with his purple suit and his blond hair, his slim body and his cup of tea. Mr Clement was sitting at his table, a table that was 13 feet in front of the door. He was facing away from them, preparing tea, as usual. Jeff and Clara entered with some discomfort. Then Mr. Clement turned his head, smiled and welcomed them.

"The Gaspels!" he exclaimed warmly, "What a pleasant surprise. You have been very responsible with our services and that makes me very happy. At this stage it would be very rude not to share a cup of tea with you."

Actually, he shares a cup of tea with everyone who comes into his office.

"Thank you very much," Clara replied as she received the tea. We would like to apply for a special loan.

"What kind of loan?" asked Mr Clement as he sat down with his cup.

"Just a bigger one than usual," said Jeff.

After Jeff told him the amount, Mr. Clement took a long sip from his cup as he watched the two of them in a shadowy silence. It was seven seconds before he gave his answer. "Sure, no problem!"

The door closed. Jeff and Clara left the building with the money. The hard part was done, now they just needed to act fast.

The mafia wasn't stupid, they knew that Jeff and Clara wanted to steal that money, so they took action and as soon as the two left the office, Mr. Clement sent a few men to Jeff and Clara's residence to steal Charlie.

Wait... What?!

The rain suddenly poured down. The drops resounded loudly against the ground. The Coffin was quick, but they broke down the door and entered the house to find the total absence of any trace of life.

Ingeniously, Charlie and all the family's belongings were sheltered in the hospital. They knew very well that the suspicions about them would not remain silent forever, so they used the hospital as a sanctuary to protect their son if anything went wrong that day. The mob's plan was to kidnap Charlie to blackmail them for much more profit forever, but apparently they had to think more about strategy. They had only recently known that Jeff and Clara had a son, so they thought that acting like they didn't know was a foolproof move when it came to kidnapping him by surprise, but Jeff and especially Clara were smarter. They were dominating the game on enemy turf and nothing could stop them. The mob didn't know Charlie's location, there were no loose ends and the only enemy was time.