13 Murders

The Plate to Wall Manouevre

CHAPTER NINE

THE PLATE TO WALL MANOUEVRE

I sit at the dinner table next to Mr. Franklin. He’s a stoic-looking man. Concrete and expressionless like a statue. His hard eyes look at everything condescendingly. Even the giant turkey in the middle of the table. Jason is here too, though he seems to look a little out of place. It had been Amelia’s idea to have everyone around, a nice icebreaker.

Hey, How are you? Yeah that’s good, excuse me whilst I get out my rope and strangle you.

She had made everything herself, and to my surprise it looks amazing. I realize how appreciative of food prison has made me. Tonight she is beaming in a very formal-looking cream dress. She sits straight in her chair and smiles at the guests as conversation rises. She’s a very good actor. She even makes an effort to hold Xavier’s hand, although they both looks extremely uncomfortable. I try to smile at them to reassure them that they need to keep it up. Our freedom is at stake. Xavier is also dressed formally but the dark rings under his eyes make his act less convincing. It doesn’t look like he’s been getting sleep.

I guess that makes two of us.

Mr and Mrs William and Cordelia Smith are respectable adults. I can see that Claudia tried to mimic them in Amelia and Xavier. Cordelia is neat, not a hair out of place, seated bolt upright, with a job as a secretary for the police chief. William is the chairman of the criminal justice board. He does the paperwork. The discussion heads to the news.

“I hear that the criminal justice board are playing an active part in the Bagshot case?” Mr. Franklin asks William. He chuckles under his breath and smiles.

“Yes. The case is confidential of course, but we’re looking into it. You are not supposed to know this, but the police chief reckons it’s not the Fourth Alliance behind her escape, and the others.” He says in a hushed voice. From the opposite side of table from Xavier, Jason looks down at his plate and bites his lip. I gather he isn’t used to the topic of court cases and criminals.I feel myself tense as he talks, realizing what he’s talking about. I feel conscience. Doe he recognize me? Amelia? Xavier?

He can’t possibly. We look so different.

But I don’t know anyone called Bagshot. Grace never told me about someone named Bagshot.  That means that there is only one possibility.

Grace is Bagshot. And they recognize her.

And why wouldn’t they? It was a major report at the time. The press would’ve lapped up a fourteen year old girl being thrown into one of the most notorious prisons of all time for murdering her own father in the cold blood.

In a surge of anger I feel like punching Mr. Franklin in the face.

Luckily I’m good at controlling my anger, unlike other emotions.

“Another group of psychopaths then? Like the government needs another group of vigilantes messing with the system.” Mr Franklin scorns. Again anger rushes through me. Again I conceal it. Amelia looks slightly flushed, although it doesn’t seem to be directed to Mr Franklin, instead she’s looking down at the table. My eyes follow hers until they meet with Xavier. His jaw is clenched a little, and his grip of his fork has become tight and strained. I look at his eyes, trying to see into their cavernous darkness in search of signs that he’s having an episode. But I don’t see the wildness, instead I only see pure anger. Amelia places her hand on his back discreetly. He doesn’t budge.

“Well, even if they are psychopaths they’re still amateurs. We’re already on the trail of Bagshot, all she needs is to appear in a public area. The minute she gives them a real- or fake for that matter- ID we’ll be able to catch her. Put that wretched bitch back in jail.” Mrs Smith grins at her husband’s comments. My arms tense, as does Xavier’s hand. The prongs of the fork are pressing against the table. Making little dents. Jason, who until know has seemed oblivious to the conversation, looks at Xavier intently. How am I going to explain it to everyone if something happens, if Xavier switches, if Amelia and I have to pin him to the table next to the turkey and give him an injection.

Sorry everyone whilst we stab our schizo friend in the neck with an antidote to his induced craziness.

I shudder at the thought.

I think Amelia sees him tense once again and she smiles at Mr Smith and Mr Franklin.

“So do you like turkey?” She asks. They ignore her attempt to change the subject.

“After that it’s easy, she’ll confess to where the others are. We’ll have all of them in the palms of hands. People like that belong in hell.” Mr Smith sneers. Xavier presses harder. Jason looks harder. Mrs Smith smiles harder.

“Xavier, would you mind helping me in the kitchen?” She asks, sliding her chair out from the table. He doesn’t answer. No one takes any notice except for Jason and myself. He looks more intrigued by the second. I must look more panicked by the second. I have to remind myself to breath I’m so terrified he’s going to snap.

“The sooner the better. People like that make me wish we still had death penalties.” Mr Franklin spits. I inhale deeply. Xavier presses harder. The fork snaps. Amelia gasps. Jason’s eyes widen. I suddenly feel dizzy. Xavier gets up, his fingers trembling. His eyes are alive, but he is still himself. Whatever he’s about to do is completely conscience. In one quick movement, without even time for Mr. Franklin of Mr Smith to notice he’s got up, his plate is in his hands, and then it’s smashed on the wall. Hurtling through the air takes barely a second and I’m afraid- because of the look in his eyes and the veins protruding from his hands- that the wall might crumble.

Thankfully and obviously it doesn’t. But it does send glass tumbling to the floor, and the three guests looking terrified. Except, oddly, Jason. He just looks shocked.

Xavier storms out of the room. There are a few long seconds where no one knows what to do. Mr. Franklin is the first to speak.

“Is it something I said?” I want to scream yes. Amelia sees my expression and shakes her head. She turns to Mr Franklin and gives the best smile she can, although her acting skills have withered.

“No, its just Xavier had a dear friend who was killed not so long ago by one of the escapees from Sin Clair prison. He’s still very upset and gets worked up about these sort of things. Don’t worry, he will soon calm down.” She lies so elegantly, so calmly sophisticated that you’d believe her no matter what she was telling you. I’m nervous they will see through it though, but my anxiety disappears when Mr Smith gives her an apologetic smile. As does Mrs Smith, who I think might have wet herself slightly when Xavier threw the plate. Mr Franklin looks guilty.

Pathetic really, there are worse things to be guilty about.

“I’m so sorry for bringing it up Amy, I had no idea. Please give Xavier my sincerest apologies.” He says. Amelia smiles, a lie she ahs become very good at, and takes a sip from her wine.