Clockwork Firefly

Clockwork Firefly - Chapter Twenty-Nine

The clock struck nine and she stood at the side of the nave, the last stragglers from morning Mass drifting out. The place seemed so empty at the moment and she began to think he hadn't found her note. She sank down into the far end of a pew, her hands folding in her lap. The torn dress she'd worn the night before was hastily sewn with a sewing kit from the police station, ruined still, but at least it was whole. She heard the soft slow cadence of footsteps and listened to them growing closer. The heavy hand settled on her shoulder and she flinched away, rising from her seat and glaring at him. "What are you doing here?"

"Did you think you could escape me so easily? When Mrs. Jennings called me last night, I was too late to save you myself, the police had long since taken you away. I found where you'd written down today's confession times and thought I might find you here."

"Yes, I was at the station all night, answering questions, filling out paperwork."

"I still can't believe you burned that bridge, Mary." He stepped toward her and she stepped back. "I thought you liked him?" He chuckled. "Wanted him to come carry you off and save you from the devil, and yet you let him be arrested. Spent a night in a police station just to see him locked up for assault? That does not seem like you."

"Peter Walter is worth ten of you. A hundred. He is a good man and I did nothing to implicate him. He remains a free man." She lifted her chin. "It took me all night trying to convince them to arrest you."

"Oh, that's hardly complementary." He said as he set his palm on the carved door beside which he had cornered her. "And what did they say?"

"That it was my word against yours and that, frankly, I had no chance at all in a court of law without proof."

"So I have said before." he ran his hand up her arm. "A woman's word isn't worth very much." His hand slid across her shoulder's shoddy repair job. "I'm glad you changed out of the silk. This will be so much easier to replace."

"I don't want it replaced. I want my freedom. I want you to leave me be. You keep me in that ... horrible rat trap of an apartment, you make me give you my checks so I can't take care of myself. I just want to do my work, live my own life. Just... go away."

"You know that if you try to leave, I'll make sure you're branded a thief and you will never get any decent work. You hate that apartment so bad, I can have you thrown out without even the clothes on your back. Every check you've made I've taken, so I know you have nothing to fall back on but the Walters. I also know you didn't put him in jail because you care about him, and from what Mrs. Jennings was saying he was shouting.. he cares about you. Loves you." His tone derisive. "That makes you even more valuable to me today than you were yesterday. You will go to him, and you'll do as I have told you."

"You mean help you rob them." She frowned.

"All you have to do is go to him. Enjoy the happy life for a week or so, then you just leave the front door unlocked for me. Tie that red ribbon I gave you around the knob outside and then ... go to bed and feign ignorance in the morning if you like."

"So you can steal the Colonel's work? Why would I do that to them?"

"Because if you don't do as I tell you, Mary, you'll never be rid of me. They're not real, Mary. They're just machines. They can't feel anything."

"Once I'm there, I'll tell them everything. They'd believe me about you. I'd be safe." She lifted her chin defiantly.

He sighed as if weary of dealing with a headstrong child. "If you don't do it, Mary, I'm going to have to lose my temper." He grabbed hold of her arm tightly and she winced. "I am fully aware you don't care about yourself but I also know you would not want something to happen to those girls who you work with. Sneaking down to Tijuana every weekend to gamble and dance and get liquored up..." he chuckled. "Last time I was in Tijuana, I killed two men for getting in my way. You really think I'd have a problem dealing with a few drunk whores? Their lives are in your hands, Mary. Do what I say, or they're the ones who'll suffer."

He smiled down at her, her frightened little face shifting when he finished. She was smiling back now, looking almost ... triumphant. It made him release her arm and step away, thinking she'd finally cracked. He saw the door his hand had been pressed against swing open, the priest stepping out of the confessional, his face one of disgusted pity. The other door opened and a cop stepped out, his hat in his hands. Between them, she stood, her smirk so defiant his initial urge to slap that look off of her face actually sent him forward a step. He turned to flee only to see two more patrolmen entering the nave, crossing themselves before walking his direction.

Stepping forward, the sergeant withdrew his handcuffs and caught hold of one of the man's arms, pulling it back and closing the cuff around it. "Ignatius Becile, you are under arrest for extortion, larceny, solicitation to commit a felony, and suspicion of murder." The other wrist cuffed. "To start with."

Becile looked back at her, aware that it was no longer her word against his. A police sergeant and a priest? He almost had to smile at how she'd pulled it off. A nudge and he walked forward, his mind working on how to turn it around. He walked through the front door, wincing a bit as the brightness of the sun stung his eyes. When they had adjusted, he spied a man standing by the paddy wagon, his arms folded over his chest. He moved out of the way as the door was opened and Ignatius stepped inside to sit down on the narrow bench. The police shut and locked the door, and a moment later, the face of Peter A. Walter filled the screened window.

"Come near her again, I will end your life." then he was gone. There was no bragging, no lingering to see if his threat had been met with any reaction at all. Ignatius knew it was a warning, plain and simple, and he knew Peter had meant every word.

Peter watched them pull away then turned to walk into the church where Mary was speaking with the priest. He hung back, just watching her with a half-smile. She amazed him. She'd admitted that this was not going to work forever. A man like Becile, getting charges to stick to him would be like trying to stick a magnet to aluminum. Still, if anything happened to Mary, to the Walters, to the girls at the hotel... he would instantly become iron to those charges. She couldn't get justice for herself, but she could get free of him. The priest took her hand between his own, then gave her what Peter assumed was a blessing, his hand moving in a cross between them, then he walked away and Mary turned to see him standing there. She smiled softly and as she passed, gave a twitch of her head toward the door without stopping. Obviously she didn't want to talk in the church.

Once she was outside in the warm sunshine, she turned her face up into the rays and closed her eyes for a long quarter minute. She opened them again, looking over at Peter as he stood beside her. "We should talk about last night." she began, nervously twisting her fingers before her waist.

"Yes. It was ... unexpected, to say the least." He smiled though, the memory of it not wholly unpleasant.

"Well, you were very clever to guess what I was trying to do. I couldn't talk to the police on my own, I had to look as if I had no choice but to go with them. I um... was quite impressed with your acting ability."

"It wasn't all acting you know." He said quietly. "I meant it when I said I love you, Mary."

She blushed a bit and bit her lip. "You hardly know me, Peter."

"I know that I'm miserable when you're not there. I know when I was in Mexico, the only thing that kept me going was that I had to get back to see you." He slid his hand to take hers and lift it between them. "I know that when I kissed you I wasn't acting, and if that's the last kiss you ever give me, it will be the last kiss I'll ever have."

"I just feel overwhelmed, Peter. So much has happened. I just need a little time."

"So you'll get it. I understand you're capable, I would never think you were not. Especially now. I just can't live like I have the last two months. Not knowing where you are, whether you're alright or not. So... I propose you come back to the mansion. I promise I won't pressure you to do anything. If you prefer, I'll go stay with friends. I just have to know you're safe."

"No, it's your home, Peter. You should not be evicted by me. It's a big house, and I'm sure there's plenty of chaperons to go around. Keep us on our best behavior." She chuckled softly.

"Us?" He smiled back. If he'd loved her before, it was nothing compared to how he felt for her at this instant. He lifted her knuckles to his lips and then lead her to the car, opening the door for her to seat herself, then taking his place behind the wheel. "Home, Miss Mickleson?" He spoke over his shoulder.

"Home." She echoed with a smile.