Smaragdus

His eyes bloodshot, Dannie was exhausted. The workload was getting to him. “It’s such a slow process, I’m not sure if I can get everything done in time.” Therese had suspected he would be saying something like that. “I may have to ask Madame to buy some synthetic stones as well … “ The mere thought rattled him, and Therese understood it more than well. Genevieve Cantrell had invested a great deal of money in the growth chambers and, as always, she expected them to yield a profit.

Had they more time on their hands, Dannie wouldn’t have to fret over the time-consuming procedure at all.  They could just sit by and let the crystals form at their own relaxed pace. Less than eight months away from the exhibition’s opening they were, however, anything but calm. It takes longer for an emerald crystal to take shape than a baby to grow in a womb, Therese mused.  

“If we have no other choice, she’ll have to live with it,” Therese commented dryly. “It’s not your fault we were alerted to this so late in the game.” Dannie took a bite of a dried-up bagel he had abandoned on the table some hours earlier. He didn’t find it too appetizing but chewed on it anyway.  

The past month having flown by with relative ease, Therese had mainly focused on her job at the Met. During this time Lady Cantrell had mostly left her alone, which Therese had found very uncharacteristic of her. She was used to being summoned to Genevieve’s place, even to her mansion at times, for detailed updates of their progress as well as for sex. Therese was relieved by the current state of affairs, but somehow she couldn’t help but wonder if Genevieve’s reticence only signified a brief calm before an unexpected storm.  After all, she did know all about ‘Hurricane Genevieve’.

Seven years ago

Therese had stayed up – not that she could have slept even if she had wanted to. When she heard ‘Karen’ and ‘Martha’ return, she took the letters she had read over and over again, and followed them to Karen’s room. Not bothering to knock, Therese nearly kicked the door in. She caught the women in tight embrace.

“What the hell…” Karen started only to be interrupted immediately.

“This …  and this … and this … ” Therese shouted out, flinging the letters one at a time at the woman she had so far unconditionally adored. “Karen, or is it Lena or Vivien or Eve or…” Her voice broke momentarily, but her fighting spirit soared. “Who are you?” Therese interrogated, her eyes blazing of anger. “Who the fuck are you, and why did you lie to me!?”  

What she had expected to happen afterwards, Therese hadn’t really thought through. Maybe she had assumed Karen would grow all pale and apologetic, the cover of her charade having been so deftly blown. Maybe Therese had wished for an explanation that would miraculously prove her wrong despite the evidence to the contrary. What actually happened shook her to her core. It not only proved her right, it served to enhance her fears.

Without flinching, Karen smacked Therese right across the face. It wasn’t just the force of her violent outburst but also the shock of surprise that dropped Therese. Martha gasped out of despair, as Therese’s knees buckled and she collapsed onto the floor.

“Don’t you ever, ever again, poke your nose into my business.” Karen’s menacing voice pierced Therese like a whetted icicle. “If I find you messing around with my affairs one more time, I will first tear you up into tiny shreds, and then deposit every single one of them behind bars.” The tears brought on by the impact and the humiliation stung Therese’s eyes.

“Leave us,” Karen said to Martha who obeyed her without a question. When they were left alone, Karen blocked the door from Therese. “You must’ve thought yourself very clever, didn’t you?” she asked coldly, not expecting Therese to answer. “Fuck … ” Karen grabbed Therese’s arm and pulled her up. When Karen touched her cheek, the scarlet pattern her open hand had stamped on it, Therese winced in pain.

“Don’t be so melodramatic, darling,” Karen hissed into her ear. “You liked it, didn’t you?” Pinching her eyes shut, Therese held her breath. “You like being roughed up, don’t you, Therese?” The taunting words whirled around her like a swarm of wasps. “I think it’s nice – in bed … “ Karen added, seeking her eyes. “Getting all hot and bothered with those letters, weren’t you?” she kept at it. “Imagining me with them girls … “ Therese swallowed, focusing on keeping her false calm. “Why don’t I find out just how hot and bothered … “ Karen’s hand roamed south, eager to prove her point.          

Everything about Therese was in a state of alarm, quivering, yet she couldn’t move a muscle. She wanted to run away, to leave this place for good, to never see Karen or Martha again, but no matter how much Therese pleaded with herself to do just that, the hook Karen had sunk in her gut only fastened tighter. The hatred and the disgust she had felt toward Karen and the truth she had found out turned inward that night. Succumbing to what she mistook as her lot in life, Therese let herself be reprogrammed, and with it, utterly transformed.  

When Therese went to work the next morning, she saw Carol talking to Genevieve in the museum lobby. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary to see Lady Cantrell frequent the premises, but something about her behavior startled Therese. Genevieve seemed almost – sugary. Noticing the ring once again on Carol’s finger, she suddenly realized that Genevieve must have seen it, too.

The look Lady Cantrell afforded Therese was distinctly cool for a fleeting second, before she took command of it and turned it into her customary smile. The blink of an eye hadn’t gone unnoticed, and it didn’t bode well. Genevieve was up to something, and if she didn’t want to have anything to do with Therese, it had to be Carol who was standing in the line of her fire. Nodding to Therese, Lady Cantrell was soon on her way.  

“What did she want?” Therese asked Carol as they were walking to the lab. She had a bad feeling something unpleasant was about to unfold.

“That’s just it,” Carol laughed. “I’m not really sure. She invited me to dinner at her house and wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Carol looked surprised yet not completely dismayed by the proposal. “I’ve heard a lot about her mansion, and I’m curious to see it, but we’ve never been close.”

Good God. Therese tried to smile but couldn’t do it convincingly. “A fancy banquet for donors and alike?” she mumbled her question.

“Actually – no,” Carol replied as if she had only now grasped what the invitation meant. “If I understood correctly, it’s going to be just the two of us.”

I bet. Therese drew a quick, harrowed breath. Think, Therese, think. Her brain printed out several scenarios none of which struck her as anything less than disturbing. “And when is this dinner to take place?” she was bold enough to ask.

“On Saturday.” Carol’s smile was confused and somewhat shy. She was surprised by Therese’s eager questions about her dinner date. Although it is not a date-date, she reminded herself.

Almost right after they had started their work, Therese excused herself to make a phone call. It couldn’t wait, she explained to Carol. A personal matter.  Making sure no one could eavesdrop on her subsequent conversation, Therese dialed Abby’s number.

“What’s going on with Genevieve?” she questioned Abby, neglecting to indulge in cordialities. “Why is she having dinner with Carol?” She heard Abby breathing, guessing she was considering what to say, if anything at all.

“I think Gen wants to seal the deal,” Abby revealed reluctantly. Her tone was weary.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Therese asked impatiently. Sometimes she hated to be right.

“She wants to make sure there won’t be any surprises, even if something unexpected happens right before the finishing line.” Abby sounded distressed, which Therese found extraordinary. So far Abby had been Gen’s perfect warrior.

“Blackmail?” Therese guessed. She herself had ‘sealed many deals’ for Genevieve over the years. Most of them had involved illegal substances and a camera.

“Probably,” Abby sighed. “Karl the Bull told me he’s received an order to stand by should she need any help on Saturday evening.”

Karl the Bull meant only one thing, which Therese was very familiar with. Muscle. If Therese had ever needed a pair of strong arms to drag a listless body from one place to another, Karl had been her man. He had come to her rescue many times, even in Dallas.          

Therese finished the call, troubled beyond belief. She would have to intervene, to save Carol from whatever peril was threatening her. Genevieve was trying to get to her through Carol. That was more than obvious. The old saying ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’ found its embodiment in Lady Cantrell, and this time her wrath must have been ignited by the emerald ring on Carol’s finger. Therese had to be cunning to undo her devious plan. She didn’t want to repeat the mistake she had made years ago.

Five years ago

A week after her failed attempt to escape, Therese became aware of a distinct change in Dannie’s behavior. They hadn’t seen each other for days, which Therese had taken as a sign of him having been exceptionally busy with his work. Now he seemed restless and moody, pacing Therese’s room whenever he popped in to see her.

“I can fucking do it … “ Dannie proclaimed, wiping his nose repeatedly. “I figured it out,” he added enthusiastically. His fluttering was unnerving to say the least.

“You can do what?” Therese asked. Something was off, she thought. His forehead was sweaty, and he appeared driven in a way Therese had never seen before.

“Fucking emeralds and rubies and diamonds, just like that,” he extolled. “We got it all wrong, but I figured it out!” His pupils dilated, Dannie stared at Therese a mad grin on his lips.

“Let’s grab some lunch, okay?” Therese suggested, touching his arm gently. She wanted to get him out of the house, out of this unhealthy conversation.

“I don’t want any food.” Dannie brushed her hand off a bit too forcefully. “I want you to get this!” he insisted. “Wait … “ He left the room in a hurry, but Therese knew he would be back in a few minutes. Why he kept doing that, she didn’t know.

“Dannie … “ She attempted to call him back but to no avail. Someone else was standing in the doorway - Genevieve.

“How do you like your friend now?” she asked Therese. “A veritable genius, isn’t he?” Genevieve leaned against the door frame.

“What the fuck have you done?” Therese asked, her concern over Dannie’s well-being consuming her.

“Wrong question.” Genevieve’s face was a cold, icy mask of contempt. “What have you done would be more accurate.” Slowly she lit a cigarette and enjoyed her first, long drag of tar and nicotine. Therese could almost hear how the tip of it rustled as it burned the paper away. “You know who end up at Edgecombe?” Genevieve asked her. Therese had no idea. “Druggies, crack heads … like good ole Dannie boy who just couldn’t get enough of that stuff.”  

Therese and Dannie had never talked about why he had ended up at Edgecombe. Neither of them had volunteered any information on their past transgressions, hoping they could start anew at least with one another.

“So, Therese,” Genevieve spoke, guessing she had made her point. “Is this what you want..?” she asked her sharply. “Or would you like to be the good girl I know you can be?”   

Dannie breezed in, interrupting the strained exchange. “Why are you looking at me like that?” he giggled. “I’m here, aren’t I?” Mumbling incoherently, he dried his shaky palms on his pants.

Yet he wasn’t, and it shrank Therese’s heart, for she needed him with her. Defeated, she mouthed her silent submission.

“Speak up.” Genevieve folded her arms across her chest. She was teaching her ward a lesson, and she wanted it to sink in for good.

“I’m a good girl.”

Genevieve looked at Therese, nodding at her reply almost imperceptibly. She asked Dannie to follow her, and it took several days before Therese saw him again.

If she so much as harms a hair on her head, I will kill her. The conviction had formed in Therese’s mind slowly but surely. She couldn’t quite understand what it was that Carol moved in her so much, but she clung to it with all her might as if her life depended on it. Therese would accomplish what Genevieve expected her to deliver, but she would not stand idly by when Carol was being threatened.

Therese would have to be extremely careful in order not to put either Carol’s or Dannie’s life in danger. She found herself expendable, though she had proven essential to Genevieve’s plans. For all these years she had exorcised her demons in close contact with the devil herself, Therese mused. Still there seemed to be a surplus of them, those potent little fuckers that infiltrated her mind as doubts, put-downs and ridicule. If I can help her out, maybe a small part of me can be purged as well.     

Come Saturday morning, her plan was finalized. She left her place very early to visit the green market nearby Genevieve’s palatial home. Moseying from booth to booth, her eyes fixed on the person she was looking for. Finally.

“Hello … “ Speaking to a young woman selecting shoots of asparagus, Therese’s smile was absolutely spectacular. “I thought I’d lost you, Anna,” she told the flustered lady.

“Who’s Anna?“ The stranger kept looking over her shoulders, wondering if the lovely brunette seeking her company was in fact talking to someone else. “I’m Michelle.”

Her brow askew, Therese managed to look confused. “No, it can’t be … “ she mumbled, almost pleading. “I’ve been coming here for months now.”  Her green eyes suddenly moist, she seemed inconsolable.

“What did Anna do?” Michelle asked kindly. “What did she do to make you so sad?” Therese’s quiet despair had affected her already.

“I’d rather not talk about it … “ Therese sighed, averting her teary eyes. “I’m so sorry for disturbing you … Michelle … “ Suddenly she was looking at her again. The copper threads connecting, the deep green of her gaze jolted the object of her attention.

“Wait … “ Michelle said, sensing Therese was about to take her leave. “It’s terribly early, and I’d hate to think you’re here for nothing.” Therese waited patiently to hear the rest. “Why don’t I make you some breakfast? I’m a cook, and I work for this fancy Lady … “ Michelle hesitated briefly. “Her place is nearby.”        

Gotcha. Therese arranged a grateful smile on her face. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

“How about that breakfast?” Michelle asked, reaching for her white silk shirt that lay rumpled on the floor like a dead swan. “I should really get cracking because the lady of the house will be entertaining tonight … ” She picked up her pants and pulled them on.

Therese lay in bed, dulled by the uninspired encounter. “A big deal, huh?” she inquired.

“Sounds like a seduction, if you ask me,” Michelle confided to her. “A five-course-meal, the works …  she aims to kill.”  She winked at Therese who returned her delight somewhat perfunctorily.

“Maybe I can help you out?” she offered, feigning sincerity. Michelle looked positively surprised.

“That would be fantastic,” Michelle smiled. “I’ve certainly got my work cut out for myself.”

And so do I. Therese got up to follow Genevieve’s cook to the kitchen. Phase one was about to begin.

“Have you been given detailed instructions on how to serve the food?” Therese asked when Michelle was trimming the vegetables some time later.

“Oh, nothing out of the ordinary…” she replied. “The only thing Lady Cantrell wants to do on her own is the individual drinks,” Michelle elaborated. “And she wants me out the minute the dessert’s been served.” She let out a hearty laugh. “Another indicator that she intends to make a serious move … “

Therese wasn’t laughing. She was getting an idea how the evening would unfold, Genevieve most likely offering Carol a cocktail spiked with a roofie. “Is she home? Your employer?” she asked Michelle.

“No, she’s running some last minute errands,” she said. “Lady Cantrell won’t be back before five.”

Excellent. “May I use the bathroom?” Therese asked. Permission granted, she sneaked out to the spacious hall and all the way upstairs.

What Therese found in one of the guest bedrooms didn’t surprise her at all. The extra boudoir had been turned into a photo studio with a speedlight soft box and a reflector. An expensive pro digital camera fastened on a tripod stood in front of the king-sized bed. The master bedroom she had at times shared with Genevieve had none of the photographic paraphernalia, but it was adorned with rose petals and candles. Plan A relied on Genevieve’s charms, plan B on drugs, Therese deduced. She would make damn sure neither room was used tonight.

Therese opened a window in one of the guest rooms and slid out onto the ledge to pull in a canvas bag she had hidden between the magnolia bushes. A wire she had stashed in her pocket fished out the rope she had tied around the handle of the heavy bag. Lifting it to safety took more time than she had estimated.

“What’s keeping you so long?” Michelle hollered from the kitchen. She was getting impatient.

“I’ll be right there!” Therese promised, replacing every single bottle in Genevieve’s liquor cabinet with the ones she had brought along. The brands she hadn’t thought of, she removed from the boozy equation altogether.

“You should put a bottle of champagne on ice for them,” Therese suggested to Michelle once she had returned to the kitchen. “It would be a nice touch, don’t you think?” She stroked the cook’s derriere as if to demonstrate one.

“What a splendid idea!” Michelle prepared an icy bath for a very expensive bottle of bubbly and left it on the dining room table. Seeing it, Therese let out a sigh of relief. The first drink of the evening would be poured out of a secured bottle.

Carol arrived at 7 sharp. She was slightly nervous, not knowing what to expect. She had had trouble deciding what to wear, and Abby’s advice hadn’t exactly helped. “I’d go with the grey turtleneck and tweed slacks,” she had suggested. Carol had rolled her eyes at such an outrageous opinion. Even if she wasn’t going out on a romantic date, she wouldn’t visit Lady Cantrell looking - well, frigid. She had thought of Therese, how different it would have felt like to dress up for her.

“Carol, my darling,” Genevieve exalted, greeting her with open arms. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

Humble my ass. Even the walls seemed to be dripping with dough, not to mention the dome-like ceiling in the hall, Carol thought. She tried to make out the tiny figures cavorting on its delicate murals. They resembled naughty cherubs chasing each other with red-hot pokers. Umm… interesting.

“Thank you so much for having me, dearest Genevieve,” Carol returned the sentiment. “What a lovely home you have.” Having perused the atrium, she followed her hostess to the dining room.

“Can I offer you a drink? Some champagne to kick off our evening?” Genevieve asked Carol, turning the chunky bottle on ice. The microscopic transmitters scattered around the room picked up the slightest of sounds, Therese mused contentedly. She was dicing carrots while paying as little attention as possible to Michelle’s constant blabbering. She pushed the earplug deeper into her ear cavity.

Catching the clinking of flutes, Therese was relatively at ease. It wouldn’t make any sense for Genevieve to lace Carol’s drink right now. The dinner needed to be served first. Therese listened to Carol praising Michelle’s crème d’asperges while pushing Michelle against the sink. The volume of the women’s conversation had dropped, and Therese needed the cook to shut up to understand what they were saying. Moaning was less noisy than Michelle’s constant, harebrained chatter, she noted.                    

Saumon en croûte d'épices seemed to be a hit as well, though Therese had found the casing a bit soggy. She wasn’t going to tell Michelle that, she mused, cutting the cute cook’s oxygen supply with her voracious mouth. Therese was irritated to hear Carol go on and on about the food; it was just some crappy fish she was shoving into her mouth after all.

When Carol oohed and aahed over the magret de canard aux fleurs d'hibiscus et fruit de la passion, Therese might have stormed into the dining room and drugged her herself, had it not been for her pants dropped down to her ankles. At least now she could eavesdrop on them without any auditory distraction.

Therese started getting jittery after leplateau des fromages, since it spelled the beginning of the end of the sumptuous meal. Munching on a piece of Brie, her interest in groping fair Michelle was waning fast. Besides, Michelle was supposed to leave after the Pavlova aux fraises et framboises had found its way to the dining room table. Therese, on the other hand, needed to stay. This moment was critical, for the last drinks might very well prove hazardous to Carol’s virtue and reputation.

“I’m done, let’s go,” Michelle said, pleased with herself. “Want to come to my place?” she suggested hopefully.

“As tempting as you make it sound, I’m afraid I can’t … “ Therese mumbled. “I’m still not over … “ What the fuck was her name again?  “… Anna.” Feigning anguish, she let out a long, mournful sigh.

“Right.” Michelle untied her apron and flung it over a bar stool. She grabbed her coat and bag and ushered Therese out through the back door. When she locked the door and turned around to say a few choice words to her fickle companion, Therese had fled the scene.

Or, rather, she had run around the mansion and climbed up to a ledge. She let herself in through the window she had left open for her re-entry. Karl the Bull was passed out in his car outside Genevieve’s house. Therese had slipped a mickey in his Diet Pepsi when he had been taking a leak behind the bushes.         

The noises downstairs told Therese both women were still very much conscious. “ … if I’ve given you any impression that … “ Carol’s voice hovered in and out of her reach. “ … you are very attractive wo … “ Again, the static wreaked havoc to the connection. “ … am married, you know that.” Therese descended the stairs silently like a clever mouse. She was holding her breath, trying to capture every unimaginative brush-off Carol could think of.

Even though Therese was deliriously happy to hear Carol fending off Genevieve’s advances, she was fearful for what would happen next. “Oh, I do apologize for misreading the signs,” she heard Genevieve speak. “How very embarrassing … “ Carol hastened to convince her hostess that no damage had been done, and they should put it behind them right away.

“You’re so considerate, darling,” Genevieve said, feigning bashful gratitude. “Why don’t we drink to that, what’ll you say?” The tone of her voice left little room for anything else except acceptance.  

Hiding right behind the parlor doors, Therese heard Genevieve stirring two vodka martinis in a cocktail shaker. She seemed oddly quiet while Carol filled the thickened air of discontent with nervous small talk. Therese sent a text message to Dannie demanding him to drive the car in front of Genevieve’s house in half an hour.

“Cin cin, darling,” Genevieve toasted, clinking her glass with Carol’s. A chair scraped against the parquet, which Therese assumed indicated Genevieve’s sitting down next to Carol. According to the timer on Therese cell phone, they kept on talking idly for about ten more minutes. At fifteen both Carol and Genevieve were slurring their words, which made them squirm uncomfortably in their seats. Five more minutes passed … thump! And after one more ... thump! The sound of breaking glass followed the weird, muffled commotion.

Therese peaked in to see what had happened. Yes. Both women slouched over the table, their faces nestling on mounds of creamy meringue. Therese leapt in and helped both women sit upright while checking their vitals. Both Genevieve and Carol were out like a light but otherwise okay. Dannie signalled his arrival. Therese ran to the door and waved for him to come in.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked Therese apprehensively, his eyes darting nervously around. Dannie had never been to Lady Cantrell’s mansion and he sure as hell didn’t want to be there now either. What greeted him in the dining room really freaked him out.

“WHAT THE FUCK, THERESE?” he shouted out. “HAVE YOU KILLED THEM?? YOUR BOSS AND OUR BOSS???” Dannie’s legs were trembling, and he had to seek support from the back of the chair Carol was listlessly leaning against. “YOU PROMISED ME YOU WOULDN’T PULL THIS KIND OF SHIT ANYMORE!” Hyperventilating, he was reeling with panic.

“Keep your voice down,” Therese advised him. “They’re not dead. They’re just out. I spiked every single drop of liquor in this place.” She was quite proud of her accomplishment. Since she hadn’t been able to stop Genevieve, Therese had made sure she herself was rendered just as helpless as Carol. “Now help me move Madame onto the couch … “

Dannie was reluctant to obey Therese, but he finally did it. They dragged Lady Cantrell’s limp body onto the plush, floral-patterned couch. The whipped cream adorning her face with some juicy bits sticking out from her forehead, Genevieve appeared to be having a funky facial. After careful consideration, Therese decided to wipe the dessert’s remnants away.

She removed the spiked booze and returned the original bottles back to their place. A folded, handwritten sheet of paper stuck out from her bag, and she left it on the table. “What is that?” Dannie gasped, still in shock.

“An explanation and an apology of sorts,” Therese explained. “Now let’s get Mrs. Aird into the car.” Carrying a flaccid body was no picnic, and taking it out of the house without anyone noticing wasn’t simple either. Somehow they managed to slide her onto the backseat.

Therese spent five more minutes gathering her things inside the house before joining her nervous wreck of an accomplice. “Step on it, we need to get her to Brooklyn asap.” Therese kept glancing at Carol all the way, hoping the roofie concoction wouldn’t prove excessive for her. Thanks to Genevieve’s calculating contribution, Carol had been slipped a double amount tonight. I will stay with you all through the night, Therese promised to the knocked-out blonde on the backseat. Nothing bad will happen to you.