Smaragdus

Therese called in sick the next morning. When Carol asked if she could help her in any way, Therese appeared rather tight-lipped about it. “It’s just something I ate yesterday,” she said. “I’ll be back at work tomorrow.”

At a loss what to do, Carol sat behind her desk, turning the ring on her finger. She had hoped to fix whatever harm she had inadvertently caused to Therese the day before, and the thought of being able to do just that had carried her through the early hours of the morning. Now she felt useless, all her energy draining away before the day had even properly started.

Knock knock. “Come in,” she said, pulling herself together. Whoever it was who needed to see her unannounced was a welcome distraction.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you, Mrs. Aird?” Richard Semco was standing in the doorway.

“Do come in, Richard,” Carol replied. “You’re not disturbing me at all.” She motioned for him to have a seat across the table from her. “What’s on your mind?”

Richard looked uncomfortable sitting in the chair Carol had chosen more for its design than its functionality. He was a big lug of a man, which his boxy uniform only served to accentuate. “Um… we need to talk about the security for the upcoming exhibition,” he started, shifting his weight on the seat. “The French have certain stipulations we need to get ready for.”

Carol smiled benevolently at him. “Of course, but isn’t it a bit early for us to think about it now? I’m sure we’ll meet with their requirements.”  

Unaccustomed to speaking at length, Richard cleared his throat. “That’s just it, we won’t – not with our present standard.” He grabbed his thighs with his hands. “We have the basic surveillance system that has so far worked well for us, the closed-circuit TV cameras and the intruder-detection, but it’s not enough.” To be able to throw in a couple of professional terms helped him to collect his thoughts considerably.

“What do you suggest we do then?” Carol asked, slightly more interested than just a moment before.

“Well, I have a few ideas I’d like to go through with you, if you don’t mind?” Richard said, looking forward to show ‘the boss lady’ the plans he had with him. Carol didn’t mind, since she didn’t have anything better to do at the moment. Impatient to share his thoughts, Richard spread the drawings on the small conference table.        

“The necklace and the earrings will be placed inside a glass display case, as customary,” Richard started out. “The glass, however, can’t be any run-of-the-mill material. It needs to be what I call ‘smart glass’,” he elaborated. “Something that will have to be sensitive to not only touch but to changes in temperature and humidity as well.” The chubby fingers branching out from his meaty palms, Richard pressed the papers down as if he was afraid they would fly away and steal his thoughts with the flurry. “No one will be able to just smash it and run away with the loot,” he pontificated. “An attempt to do so will immediately seal the room leaving the perpetrator locked inside.”  

Finally curious, Carol examined the drawings carefully. The glass vitrine seemed to be mounted on a solid base with some sort of a hidden lock. “What is this?” she asked pointing at it.

“The first phase in opening the case without causing an alarm,” Richard explained. “Behind this hatch you'll find a special keyhole.” His voice was laced with boyish excitement. “Only one key will open this lock, and you, Mrs. Aird, have been chosen to take care of it.”

Stunned, Carol looked at Richard. “Me? I’m afraid I’m terrible at taking care of things, keys being the items I tend to most often lose.” The mere idea of being handed a task of such importance was unnerving to her.

Richard laughed kindly at her insecurity. “Oh, Mrs. Aird, you won’t have to worry about it,” he assured, “you won’t lose this one.”

Carol was certain she was missing something. “How can you be sure of it?” she questioned. “Where would I even keep it?”

Richard turned her attention to another drawing depicting the small key and the hole it fit in. “Around your neck, Mrs. Aird. At all times. You are not to remove it the entire time we have those jewels here.”

Richard’s idea sounded slightly better, but still she wasn’t convinced. “What if the chain breaks and falls off with the key?” she asked apprehensively.

“Should something like that happen, which I very much doubt because of its custom-made material, the security will know about it right away,” he assured Carol. “You see, the chain has to be in contact with your skin at all times in order not to set off the alarm.”

The ingenuity of the concept dawned on Carol in its entirety. “I do see…” she said slowly. “That is… I don’t even know what that is!” she laughed, relieved. “How on earth has someone even come up with something like this?” Her question didn’t demand an answer, nor did Richard have one for her. Carol was impressed – not only because it made her feel protected but also because it gave her the feeling of being in control.

After her brief conversation with Carol, Therese took a cab downtown. She wasn’t ill, far from it, but she had needed to take the day off to do what she had been postponing for a week now. She was on her way to meet Madame.

Therese hopped off in front of an all-too-familiar building, the dormitory masquerading as a halfway house for misguided youth. She still had her key, and she used it, to avoid seeing Martha open the door, if not for anything else. When Therese got in, Martha wasn’t where she used to be – behind the counter that gave to her office and private room. The curtains were drawn in, and the door of her room locked. Over the years Therese had gotten used to seeing it ajar, and it had served as an outstanding invitation for her to visit Martha any time she felt like it. She shuddered remembering when she had no longer wished to do so.

An attractive young woman of about 19 passed her by as she walked along the corridor. Aloof and terribly self-conscious, the stranger was clutching a laundry hamper against her chest. She didn’t utter a word to Therese, nor did Therese say anything to her.

She took her time before knocking on Madame’s door, thinking of all the times she had done the same – the moments of impatient happiness, of eager exhilaration, of devastating disbelief and sheer desperation. “Enter!” Therese heard Madame command when she had made her presence known. Not much had changed inside the boudoir in past ten years. Then again it had never been her ‘employer’s’ real home, just a place for her to look after her wards, as she liked to call Therese and her kind.

“You decent?” Therese quipped, standing in the doorway.

“Never, darling!” A laughing voice replied behind a half closed door.

“Who’s the flavor of the month?” Therese asked, taking off her overcoat and hanging it by the door. “Not a bad looking girl, that one. Definitely better than some of your former finds.” She got rid of her cardigan and started unbuttoning her shirt.

“Wanna make it a threesome?” Madame had finally emerged from the bathroom. She was wearing a mere silk robe with see-through roses on it.

“Why not?” Therese asked. “Want me to go and get her?” She still had her shirt on.

“I’m afraid it might get tedious,” Madame replied regretfully. “And I don’t want tedious, not right now.” She dropped the robe on the floor, and came very close to Therese. “I’ve missed you, Therese. You’ve kept away an awful long time…” Her slender hands caressed Therese’s face and neck longingly.

“Can we skip the foreplay, I’m not in the mood for it,” Therese said, half naked. This was the part her brain was never willing to deal with. Not that it had ever been a regular feature of their sex life, but lately she had noted Madame showing signs for what she had pegged ‘the confusing little extra’.

Sighing, Madame sat on the bed. “There are things we need to discuss,” she reminded Therese who knew it very well.

“Later,” Therese decided. “Lie down on your stomach. Now.” Smiling, Madame did as she was told. She knew the drill.

“I wish you’d still call me Karen,” Madame said, caressing Therese’s chest after the immediate need had subsided.

“You know damn well why I don’t,” Therese mumbled. She reached for the pack of cigarettes she knew Madame kept hidden in the bedside drawer. Therese hardly ever smoked, but here she usually made an exception. “And if you don’t want to spoil this, drop it.” She meant it.

Madame was more than willing to humor her. “Okay, okay,” she appeased her. “Why don’t you tell me all about our beloved Mrs. Aird? You’ve been working with her for a few weeks now.”

Therese did her best not to let her see how the mention of Carol’s name affected her. She concentrated all her attention to the cigarette she was lighting, and took her time before answering. “She’s a pro, very good at her job and a workaholic to boot.” The image of Carol arose from her depths like a weak hologram only to flicker silently out of reach again.

“Are you making progress with her?” Madame pried, lowering her voice as her index finger drew a sharp, straight line between Therese’s small breasts.

“Well, I got the documents, didn’t I?” Therese said, ignoring all other connotations the question was burdened with.

“You know it’s not enough,” Madame said. “Why don’t you have a bit of fun, darling? I happen to know she could use some.” She took a drag from Therese’s cigarette, and rested her head on her palm. “To tell you the truth, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to ask you this, but it looks like my initial plan has failed miserably.”

Intrigued, Therese looked at Madame inquisitively. “That’s a first, you wanting to save me from your dirty work.” Never once had she been given the chance not to commit the compromising acts Madame’s purposes required.

“What happened in Dallas really freaked me out, if you must know,” Madame said after a while. “You flew off the handle, Therese, and it worries me.” The memory of their latest gig troubled her, that much was evident.

“Do we have to talk about it?” Therese snapped at her. “You got what you wanted, so quit griping!” She was getting angry, for she didn’t want to remember any of it.

“What you did was excessive, I never asked for that,” Madame pointed out. “I told you to pull out, to leave her alone, but you just had to go and improvise.”

Therese could feel her breathing becoming labored. Fragments of her last night in Dallas circled her consciousness like sharks sniffing blood before she pushed them all back where they belonged, beneath her carefully constructed, well-rehearsed persona.

“Therese…” Madame coaxed her to calm down. “It’s alright…” Therese flinched, feeling her touch. “I know you, Therese. I see you…” she continued calmly. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? Someone to see you as who you really are.” She put her arms around Therese, and this time her gesture met no resistance. “I know every last detail about you, and I’ve kept your secrets. I will always keep them.”

Therese didn’t say anything, nor did she feel anything. To be both nauseous and oddly comforted, rebellious and unfathomably meek all at once was exhausting. Every day she looked for signs of decay, of depravity in her fair face never finding any. She thought about the story her friend had once told her, the tale of the beautiful man who had done terrible deeds without ever having to pay for them because of his exceptional looks. “You could do that,” Olivia had laughed, “you could get away with murder if you wanted to.” But when her friend had talked her into ransacking that wretched man’s house with some ‘friends’ Therese had never met before, it had been her who’d been left behind to take the fall. What a stupid, idiotic child she had been!

Madame had seen what an unpolished gem she had appeared to be, a rough diamond waiting to be brilliant. She had only taken what she had thought could use cleaving and cutting, first extracting her essence from the raw block she was, then rubbing her exposed parts irreversibly against her own hardness. As a result Therese shone brightly to everyone who crossed her path.

There were no blemishes in her face or figure, but the rock inside had started to crack. Without them it wouldn’t have any character. Carol’s words echoed bittersweetly in Therese’s ears. She thought of her still when Madame wanted her again, it felt good, it made her movements less mechanical, the act itself more pleasurable than in years.

The next day Therese went back to work. Instead of going to her office, she walked straight to Carol’s door. Overcome by strange excitement, she knocked on the door and eagerly waited for an answer. “Come right in,” Carol’s voice said. She stepped in, expecting to see her absorbed in her plans and memos, but Carol wasn’t alone. Someone else was in the room, sitting across from Carol, her back turned to the door.

Grinning, Therese greeted Carol, but when she recognized who the woman in the chair was, her smile froze on her lips. Martha.

Martha, the one person she had counted on for so many years, the one whose betrayal had stung Therese almost worse than Madame’s had, looked startled noticing who was standing before her. Carol didn’t see what was happening between the two of them, she didn’t catch on their recognizing one another.

“Well, I must not waste any more of your valuable time, Carol,” Martha said, turning away from Therese. “I’ll let you know how it went as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, darling, for popping in,” Carol said, kissing her quickly on both cheeks. “Any time is fine with me.”

Without another word Martha nodded sheepishly at Therese and left Carol’s office in haste.

It took a minute for Therese to recover from the shock. “Is something wrong?” Carol asked. Therese’s face was ashen. “Maybe you should have stayed at home for one more day?”

“Who is that woman?” Therese stammered, not caring whether it sounded odd or not.

Carol cast a curious look at her. “Aren’t you being blunt today!” she chuckled. “She’s my husband’s nurse, Miss Gerhard.”