“Come on, Artie,” Gerard whined. “Let me see it.”
“You can see it from where you are.” Arthur snapped.
“I ain’t gonna steal it. We’re mates, you and I.” Gerard mumbled.
“I’m not takin’ any chances with this. Imagine, this just sittin’ in the cornice of that old wardrobe. Right there. No, I ain’t taken no chances. ” Arthur grinned, drawing the huge diamond to his lips and kissing it wetly. He wiped the stone on his shirt and laughed. “No, not with this. This here is my future.”
“Our future, Artie.” Gerard said quickly.
“Sure, sure.” Arthur nodded.
Gerard pointed to the tangled heap of flesh, silk and red hair that was Ulrika Rittenhouse.
“Here, what ‘bout her?” Gerard asked. “We can’t just leave her on the floor.”
“Why not?” Arthur frowned.
“Well, when that stuff wears off, she’s gonna remember what we done and she’s gonna say we stole from here. Might call for the authorities and all.”
“And tell them that we stole a diamond what she stole from a whore what that whore stole from another who stole it from the Duke of Fallbridge?”
“When you put it like that,” Gerard shrugged. “But, you yourself say she’s got a vicious streak in her. Don’t want to take any chances.”
“You’re correct, Gerry.” Arthur nodded, sitting up. “Pity, too.”
“You like her, don’t ya?” Gerard winked. “Even if she is a beast.”
“I don’t like her,” Arthur sighed. “But, I don’t hate her neither. There’s somethin’ ‘bout her. Maybe it is that she’s such a beast and takes such delight in bein’ so. Maybe it’s her wildness and her cunning.”
“Maybe you just like sleepin’ with her.” Gerard laughed.
“That doesn’t hurt.” Arthur chuckled.
“So, what are we gonna do with her?”
“Not ‘we,’ Gerry.” Arthur grinned.
“What are you like?” Gerard’s eyes widened. “I ain’t gonna do that.”
“Sure you are.” Arthur said. “If you want your share, you gotta do your part.”
“I can’t kill a woman!” Gerard argued.
“Here, keep your voice down.” Arthur spat. “It ain’t like you never killed no one before.”
“Not a woman.” Gerard shook his head.
“So, she’ll be your first.” Arthur winked.
Meanwhile Robert and Marjani made their way through the misty streets of the French Quarter.
“Do you think that Adrienne and the baby will be safe?” Robert asked Marjani as they hurried along.
Marjani panted, “We done left ‘em with Charles and I know that Mama Routhe ain’t gonna let no one in the house. They’ll be jus’ fine, Sir. You jus’ worry ‘bout His Grace and Mr. Punch.”
“Are you sure that there’s trouble?” Robert asked.
“You can’t tell me that you don’t feel it, too, Sir. You got the gift, same as me.” Marjani said breathlessly.”
Robert sighed. “I can’t deny it. For so many years, I’ve ignored my—well, I don’t know what to call it. Instincts? Intuition? Feelings? I’ve tried to deny them, but…”
“I understand, Sir.” Marjani answered. “What are them feelin’s tellin’ you right now?”
“That there’s another entity at play. A new foe—one that is close, yet far away.”
“Right you are, Sir.” Marjani nodded.
“But, how will we get into our house?” Robert asked. “You know Edward Cage—or his henchmen—will be lurking nearby.”
“We’ll find a way, Sir.” Marjani smiled. “We always do.”
At that very moment, Mr. Scaramouche tore through their borrowed house on Royal Street, stuffing his pockets and filling a large satchel with anything that he saw which caught his eye. “I want this!” He’d declare triumphantly as he spied an object which appealed to him. “This will do nicely!”
“He’s gone utterly mad,” Barbara whispered to Cecil as they watched helplessly.
“I don’t know what to call it.” Cecil shook his head.
“At least the other one—Mr. Punch—is pleasant despite being as rough as he is.” Barbara said.
“True.” Cecil sighed. “Oh, I wish Robert were here. He knows how to deal with this sort of thing. I’m rather at sixes and sevens.”
“Perhaps he’ll tire himself out,” Barbara suggested.
He shows no signs of slowing down.” Cecil replied as Scaramouche skittered past them to steal a clock key from a sideboard. He howled with delight as he shoved the key into his bulging pocket.
“I wonder,” Cecil began.
“What?” Barbara asked.
“Well, I don’t know how to say it.” Cecil grunted.
“Try, please.” Barbara shook her head. “Mr. Halifax, I know that you neither like nor trust me, and you certainly don’t believe that I’m sincere—with good reason, of course. However, at this particular moment, we must try to work together—no matter our personal feelings. So, what were you going to say?”
“It’s only that Mr. Punch and His Grace must be present—somewhere. They must both be inside of him. Musn’t they? Once, Mr. Punch tried to describe what it was like for them. He described a sort of room inside of their body—some sort of waiting room where he or Julian, now both of them—wait while the other has control of the body. Certainly, the Duke and Mr. Punch are waiting in that room—trapped somehow. There must be a way to release one or the other of them and cease this Scaramouche from his manic rampage.”
Barbara pinched her lips together thoughtfully. “That must be. So, how do we contact them?”
“I don’t know.” Cecil grunted.
“Surely, they must be aware of what’s happening? Yes? Are they aware? I don’t know the mechanics of this madness.”
“You’d think so,” Cecil said. “However, for years, Julian wasn’t aware of Mr. Punch—or at the very least denied his existence. I wonder if either of them knew about Mr. Scaramouche.”
“Or how many others their might be.” Barbara sighed.
“Why are you standing there like statues?” Scaramouche shouted from the staircase. “You’re meant to assist me! Don’t make me flog you!”
“What would you have us do, Scaramouche?” Cecil asked calmly.
“Find things for me! Pretty things. I must have them!” Scaramouche screamed. “I’m owed!”
Suddenly, Scaramouche dropped the objects that he held in his arms and let the satchel slide from his shoulder. The object clattered and broke as they tumbled down the stairs. He gripped his head and screamed in agony. “No! You rogue! Stop that!”
Did you miss Chapters 1-255? If so, you can read them here. We’ll be taking a break on Monday, May 30, 2011 for Memorial Day. However, come back on Tuesday for Punch’s Cousin, Chapter 257!
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