Chapter 106

Saturday

Four Days To Go

London

00:01 Hours

Sir Henry, Gold Commander, Metropolitan Police Service, stared at the huge bulk that had been Fat Belly Johnston. "It's too far away," he said, mostly to himself, looking between the body and the nearby building.

"How high was he..." Gold gulped, paling more. He was into clinical shock now, but so were the others around him, so there was really no one to realise the danger that they were all in.

Gold's shoulders sagged a little more, "He was thrown, wasn't he?" He didn't look at the SOCO's, so they had to speak their answers.

"Yes, Sir," answered SOCO.

Gold leaned against a car, something he had sacked other officers for, and wiped the cold sweat from his face. "Who could have done such a thing?" Gold didn't know.

Nor did SOCO, but both men, each in their individual hell, knew that they didn't want to meet such a man, not if he was angry.

Gold lifted his radio, "Is there anything else?" he asked the control room.

"A report of a car attacked with an RPG," control answered.

"An RPG!" Gold yelled, almost out of control now. In truth, he should have been removed from duty nearly an hour ago, but those around him were also in the same position.

"That's what they said," answered control.

Gold returned to his car. "Let's go," he told the driver.

The driver was, possibly, the only one functioning anywhere near normally. He'd seen the first incident, the one with the pool cues. After that he'd stayed in the car, studiously avoiding looking anywhere near the incidents.

And he'd never play pool again, not ever. The sight of those two men ... He shuddered again.

The drive was quick. All of the incidents had taken place in a single council estate. One of the so called 'sink estates'. The places where the worse of the council tenants, the trouble makers, those who never paid their rents, the ex-convicts, the dregs of humanity, were placed all together.

The vehicle in question was easy to identify, even without the police tape all around it. Gold stared for nearly five minutes before he realised what was wrong, the car had nearly been turned inside out. This wasn't an RPG, this car had been hit by ... by ... by what? Slowly Gold staggered forward to the side of the car. He stooped and looked inside. The starkly bright lights caused nightmare like shadows, but he easily recognised blood stains throughout the interior.

"Where's the body been taken to?" Gold called out.

The junior officers around him looked at each other. Finally, one, the one who'd first attended this incident and was thus in the greatest shock, answered, "It's still in there, Sir."

Gold turned back to the vehicle, the spongy mass that he'd assumed to be a seat, he now realised was the remains of the driver. Standing upright again Gold realised that he hands were sticky, he looked at them, discovering the blood stains, and, horrifyingly ... other bodily bits. As he turned to walk away, his feet stuck to the pavement. Gold dared not look down. He walked, shoes sticking to the road until he was outside of the tapes.

"Water!" he called, his voice brittle as a cracked cup.

The attending officers had been waiting for this. They'd thought that they'd laugh at seeing how their pompous commander handled such a terrible incident. But they were silent. They couldn't believe that Gold was still on his feet. They suddenly felt a small measure of respect for the man. A bucket of water was brought over, it was warm. Gold stripped off his tunic jacket and shirt, and plunged his hands and arms into the water, washing the horrific stuff off.

Gold returned to his car. "Driver," he'd never bothered to learn his drivers names, "Back to the yard."

The driver never moved.

"DRIVER!" Gold screamed. While this brought officers running to the car, the driver never moved.

Gold reached forward and shook the driver, who just slid sideways onto the passenger seat. Getting out Gold watched as a constable opened the driver's door and checked the driver.

"He's alive, Sir. Probably just unconscious," the constable reported.

One of the waiting ambulance men came and started looking after the driver.

"SIR!" Called an officer at the rear of the car, they all turned to look at him.

"Sir, look," he continued, pointing at the rear of the car.

There scratched into the paintwork was a message, Keep your own streets clean. Next time we come it will be worse.

Gold couldn't imagine what could be worse that what he'd seen tonight.

He looked around; perhaps it really was time to leave. Go into a QUANGO and get money for doing basically nothing.

Sasha and Nigel watched as Geoff Chandler inspected the walls and floor of the 'cleaning cupboard.' This time it was Sasha who had suggested another picnic on the green. She also told her staff not to turn up before 12 p.m. So, naturally, everyone was there by 9 a.m.

Today though Sasha and Nigel joined them and after breakfast they encouraged everyone to join in a Tai Chi lesson.

Geoff, meanwhile, continued his study of the cupboard.

Martinè

Elastic's private phone rang and she picked up the receiver.

"Is this line being recorded?" asked the voice at the other end.

"All of the lines into Martinè are recorded, Sir," Elastic answered. She recognised the voice. It was only a few days ago that he'd promoted her to Vice Admiral.

"You have a visitor on the way. Trystan Bonner, he is to be allowed to land and give you a message." With a click the line went dead.

"Yes, Sir," Elastic started wondering what on earth was going on.

"Security!" Elastic called, she knew she was being monitored; after all, she had setup the initial security systems. With the input from the Coven, the systems had tightened.

Gerry opened her office door, "Admiral."

"Trystan Bonner is arriving, by helicopter, in a few minutes. He's to be allowed to land and then to be brought straight to me."

"OK, Admiral."

"And call me Boss, like you always did!" Elastic shouted.

"Yes, Admiral," Elastic heard as the door closed.

Trystan Bonner's helicopter landed on our helipad. Of course he was surrounded by armed marines then he was escorted directly to Elastic's office. The rest of the aircrafts occupants remained in the aircraft under armed guard.

Elastic stood as Trystan entered. "Good morning, M. Bonner, what can I do for you at this ungodly hour?"

Trystan took out a pocket notebook and looked at a specific page. "The friend who you saw on Wednesday, instructs you to pass a message onto your friend Sasha. The message is 'Stop what you are doing.'"

Elastic thought for just a few seconds, the lifted her phone and dialled. "Sasha, whatever you're doing, stop it. Now."

"But it's only a bacon butty," protested Sasha. Then, feeling foolish, she asked, "Do you mean in my office?"

Elastic paused, pondering her reply. "Sasha, if there is something going on in your office. I need you to stop whatsoever it is, and right now. This is very important."

It was now Sasha's turn to think. "Nigel, tell Geoff to stop what he's doing and come out here." Sasha watched as Nigel hurried to do her bidding. "I think I've stopped what you're worried about. Will I get an explanation?"

"If I do, then yes. But this instruction has come from the highest authority. We'll speak when we next meet."

"OK, Elastic, see you soon."

"Bye," said Elastic before she hung up the phone.

Elastic just sat and stared at Trystan.

"Admiral," Bonner said with a smile. "If you are looking to me for answers, then I am afraid that you now know very nearly as much as I myself do. The little that you do not know is that my President called me from my bed to deliver the words I just spoke. He told me that it was vitally important for the message to be delivered immediately. Now I believe that we have both done what was ordered of us," neither thought that these messages were requests. "So do you have any of your fine coffee? And may I see my daughter?"

Elastic smiled, she opened the door and yelled "Coffee!"

That was really only for show. With a guest as important as M. Bonner in the office, the security team were monitoring everything very carefully. They would have passed on his request for coffee before Elastic had even reached the door.

One of the Chateau's servants delivered, and poured, the coffee. Trystan watched her with a smile. "You know," he said, "That the Baron has great difficulty getting his servants to put clothes on before they serve his guests."

Elastic laughed. "He's a Viscount now. I brought the news of his elevation back from the Palace on Wednesday."

Trystan froze; he glanced at Elastic, trying to recall all that he knew about her. Either she was a stupid security risk, or she was a dedicated 'player' giving him some valuable information in an oblique way. From the times that he'd met her, and the fact that the Bar ... no, he corrected himself, the Viscount trusted her with his life, he had to believe that it was the latter reason, rather than the former. He would have to speak to his opposite number in London when he returned to Paris.

I looked down at Susan as she slept in my arms. Soon I would be able to play with her rather than just hold her. She seemed to be growing at an enormous rate. I spotted Julia coming out to me. This was very unusual as she'd told me that I could have 45 minutes with Susan while she remade Susan's cot.

"Hello, my Master," Julia said brightly, "Susan's bottles are ready now. Would you like to feed her?"

Suspiciously, I nodded, Julia fed Susan herself and always had done so.

"I think she'd be better off indoors out of this wind," Julia said, standing.

So that's it. Someone wants me inside without anyone actually saying so.

"OK Julia, precious girl, you lead the way," I answered as I too rose, carefully though, with my precious cargo.

Umber was waiting for me in my office. "Master, M. Bonner has arrived, very suddenly, from Paris. The Admiral received a phone call from London instructing her to let him land and let him deliver a message. They were together about three minutes when the Admiral called Mistress Sasha in London. This was the message to Mistress Sasha." Umber played the message. It was brief and to the point.

I just wonder what Sasha had been doing that needed all of this high level interference to stop her.

Well perhaps I would hear the reasons when Sasha did.

"Thank you, Umber. Let me know when M. Bonner leaves."

"Yes, Master," she replied with a smile."

I wandered around the Chateau. I didn't want to go outside just yet. I needed to wait long enough for Susan to 'have her bottle.'

I found Jessica in the Breakfast room, she was talking to Thrash.

"Hi, Paul," he called.

Jessica looked at me in surprise. "You know Thrash?" she asked me.

Busy getting my breakfast, I nodded.

"But you said you were Paul," she accused.

Gerald waved a sausage laden fork in my vague direction. "He's always doing that, not telling people who he really is. I think it's because he doesn't really believe what he's actually achieved."

Eyes narrowing, Jessica asked, "So who are you really then?"

"He's the Baron..." started Gerald.

"Not anymore," I interrupted with a grin.

"Oh!" said Gerald in surprise. "Don't tell me they found you out and sacked you from the order of Barons or whatever it is."

"Nope!" I answered, tasting the particularly nice sausages Chef had prepared for us this morning. "Done got promoted."

Gerald laughed, Jessica stared wide-eyed at me.

"You're the billionaire," she gasped. "I'm so sorry, Sir, I didn't know. I'll..."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Jessica, I'm the same person I was last night. You didn't have any trouble speaking to me then. I really doubt that you should have trouble speaking to me now." I smiled at her, and, after a couple of moments she smiled back.

"No, I think not," she agreed.

"Good, now Gerald, what are you doing here? Not that I object to you coming, of course." I asked.

He smiled, a huge, cat-who-got-the-cream-and-the-canary, smile. "I've brought something over to show you. I'll," he looked up at Geraldine who had just entered the room, "We'll show you after breakfast.

Geraldine looked a little nervous as she approached the seat next to her love.

I rose and went to the breakfast bar, "What do you want Geraldine, darling?" I asked, plate in one hand, serving spoon in the other.

"YOU CAN'T DO THAT!"

Both Jessica and Geraldine cried at exactly the same time.

"Oh, why not? It's my privilege to serve my friend, and the soon-to-be wife of another of my friends."

They both looked stunned. This wasn't how the world worked in their mind-set.

"So, what do you want for breakfast?" I asked again.

Gerald whispered in her ear, then, quietly, Geraldine gave me her order.

"There, that didn't cause the end of civilisation as we know it, did it?" I smiled at her. "Hi Geraldine, how are you doing."

"I'm getting better, Master, but some things are just so hard for a girl to learn."

"I know, my precious. But keep leaning on Gerald, he's a very good man, and he'll help you all you need."

Jessica looked at the three of us, all with tears in our eyes. "Why does she need all of this help?" she asked, uncertain of the response she'd receive.

I came and sat back next to Jessica. "Because she's a freed slave. And it often takes years for a slave to get used to living as a free-person. Some slaves never make the adjustment and either get re-enslaved, or suicide."

Jessica gasped out in horror. "Oh my dear, what swine was your ow..."

"MY MASTER IS THE KINDEST MASTER THERE EVER WAS!" We were all stunned with the ferocity of her interruption. "My Master enabled me to improve my music, and, when he found out I wanted to marry, he freed me and has given me a pension for life so I'll never be dependent on anyone again."

Geraldine took a couple of breaths to calm herself, "Please don't disrespect my Master in front of me again, not ever. I still love my Master, and I know he still loves me, and would welcome me back without question if I asked to return to him."

The rest of breakfast was a quiet affair, each of us looking at the others and wondering what they thought of Geraldine's comments.

"Jessica, to understand Geraldine a little better, why don't you go and speak with some of the other girls here? Umber will release them from their duties to spend time with you, won't you Umber?" I finished, just knowing that precious Umber was beside me.

"Of course, my Master. Sheila will be the best girl, as she was with Tadeusz in London too." Umber answered. I dropped my hand to my side and found her head waiting to be petted.

Jessica rose a little so she could look down by my side, "She's naked!" she exclaimed.

"I know," I sighed. "It's a bugger trying to get these girls to wear clothes."

Gerald gathered us all in the morning lounge, Elastic came and sat beside me, Jessica took up position on my other side. Whatever was going on had both Gerald and Geraldine very excited.

Finally Gerald placed a covered frame on to an easel. With a great show, he whipped the cover off and we saw, shining brightly even in the soft morning light, a platinum disk.

"We received this at the awards in LA on Thursday. The boys wanted me to bring it straight here to show you and Sasha. Unfortunately the others couldn't be here today..." we laughed at his impression of an award show host.

"And this is for the 'Advance' sales." Gerald said proudly.

Geraldine came in with another, similar, frame. "And this one is for post release sales."

"Wow, but Friends was only released last Wednesday!" I said, very surprised at the speed that their Blu-ray had sold.

"Yeah, fantastic isn't it," Gerald said. If his grin was any wider, we could have inspected his tonsils.

"There are a group of American businessmen who want us to stage the concert again," Geraldine said, looking lovingly at Gerald. "I don't think that their offer is good enough. They would be taking far too much of the ticket price."