“I have thankfully taken care to increase my dives at a PADI-recognized diving school just under a year ago, just to do something different for relaxation,” Sam boasted as Alexandr zipped up his suit just before the first dive.
“That’s a good thing, Sam. At these depths you have to know what you’re doing. Nina, you are sitting this one out?” Purdue asked.
“Aye,” she shrugged. “I have a hangover that could kill a buffalo and you know how well that goes down under pressure.”
“Oh, yes, rather not,” Alexandr nodded, sucking on another joint while the wind ruffled his hair. “Don’t worry, I’m good company while these two go tease the sharks and seduce man-eating mermaids.”
Nina laughed. The image of Sam and Purdue at the mercy of fish women was hilarious. However, the shark idea actually concerned her.
“Don’t worry about the sharks, Nina,” Sam told her just before he bit onto his mouthpiece, “they don’t like alcoholic blood. I’ll be fine.”
“It’s not you I am worried about, Sam,” she scoffed in her best bitch tone and accepted a joint from Alexandr.
Purdue pretended he heard nothing, but Sam knew full well what it was all about. His remark the night before, his honest observation, had frayed their ties just enough for her to get vindictive. But he was not going to apologize for it. She needed to be woken to her conduct and coerced into making a choice once and for all instead of playing with the emotions of Purdue, Sam, or anyone else she chose to entertain while it appeased her.
Nina gave Purdue a caring look before he splashed into the deep dark blue of the Portuguese Atlantic. She elected to give Sam a baleful, narrow-eyed grimace, but when she turned to look for him, all that was left was a blossoming flower of foam and bubbles on the surface of the water.
Pity, she thought, and dragged a deep one on the rolled paper. Hope a mermaid rips your bollocks off, Sammo.
Chapter 41
Cleaning the drawing room was always last on the list for Miss Maisy and her two cleaners, but it was their favorite room, because of the generous hearth and the spooky carvings. Her two subordinates were young ladies from the local college she employed for a handsome fee, on the condition that they never discuss the manor or its security measures. Fortunately for her the two girls were modest undergraduates who enjoyed science lectures and Skyrim marathons, not the typical spoiled and undisciplined types Maisy had encountered in Ireland when she had a personal security gig there between 1999 and 2005.
Her girls were salt of the earth young students who took pride in their housework and she afforded them regular gratuities for their loyalty and efficient work. It was a good relationship. In the Thurso manor there were a couple of places Miss Maisy chose to clean herself, and her girls kept clear of those — the guest house and the basement.
Today was especially chilly due to the thunderstorm announced on the radio the day before that was expected to ravage northern Scotland for the next three days, at least. Fire crackled in the large fireplace where the flames licked the charred sides of the brick structure that extended up a tall chimney.
“Almost done, lassies?” Maisy asked from the doorway where she stood with a tray.
“Aye, I am done,” the skinny brunette, Linda, cheered, tapping the stick of her feather duster across the ample buttocks of her redhead pal, Lizzy. “The ginger is still lagging, though,” she jested.
“What is that?” Lizzy asked when she saw the beautiful birthday cake.
“Some free diabetes,” Maisy declared with a curtsy.
“What’s the occasion?” Linda asked, dragging her friend to the table with her.
Maisy lit one candle in the middle, “Today, dames, is my birthday, and you are the unfortunate victims of my compulsory tasting.”
“Oh, dread. Sounds just awful, eh, Ginger?” Linda joked while her friend leaned over to drag the point of her finger through the icing for a taste. Maisy slapped her hand playfully and lifted the meat cleaver in a mock threat, driving the girls into a roaring shriek of excitement.
“Happy birthday, Miss Maisy!” they both shouted, waiting in anticipation for the head housekeeper to indulge in Halloween humor. Maisy made a face, closed her eyes for the crumb-and-icing onslaught she expected and brought down the cleaver on the cake.
As expected the impact smashed the cake in two and the girls squealed with the thrill of it.
“Come, come,” Maisy said, “dig in. I haven’t eaten all day.”
“Me neither,” Lizzy moaned, while Linda dished up skillfully for all of them.
The doorbell rang.
“More guests?” Linda asked with a stuffed mouth.
“Ach nie, you know I don’t have any friends,” Maisy scoffed, rolling her eyes. She had just taken her first bite and now she had to swallow it quickly to look presentable, a most annoying feat, just when she thought she could relax. Miss Maisy opened the door and was greeted by two gentlemen in jeans and jackets that reminded her of hunters or lumberjacks. The rain had crowned them already, and the cold wind chilled the porch, but neither of the men even shivered or attempted to pull up their collars. It was clear they were undeterred by the cold.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“Good day, madam. We hope you can help us,” the taller of the two friendly men said in a German accent.
“With?”
“By not making a scene or marring our mission here,” the other replied nonchalantly. His tone was tranquil, very civilized, and Maisy placed his accent from somewhere in the Ukraine. His words would have devastated most women, but Maisy was skilled in summing people up and disposing of most. They were indeed hunters, she reckoned, foreigners sent on an errand by which they were ordered only to act as harshly as provoked, hence the calm disposition and the open request.
“What is your mission? I cannot promise cooperation if it compromises my own,” she said firmly, allowing them to identify her as someone who knew the life. “Who are you with?”
“We cannot say, madam. If you would step aside, please.”
“And do ask your young friends not to scream,” the taller man requested.
“They are innocent civilians, gentlemen. Leave them out of this,” Maisy said more sternly and stepped to the middle of the doorway. “They have no reason to scream.”
“Good, because if they do, we’ll give them a reason,” the Ukrainian replied in a voice so kind that it was wicked.
“Miss Maisy! Everything all right?” Lizzy called from the drawing room.
“Dandy, doll! Eat yer cake!” Maisy shouted back.
“What were you sent to do here? I am the only resident of my employer’s manor for the next few weeks, so whatever you are looking for, you have come at the wrong time. I am just a housekeeper,” she informed them formally and nodded politely before she slowly drew the door to shut it.
They did not react, and oddly enough, that was what brought a tingle of panic to Maisy McFadden’s gut. She locked the front door and let out a long sigh, grateful that they accepted her charade.
A plate shattered in the drawing room.
Miss Maisy rushed to see what was happening and found her two girls in the forceful grasp of two other men who were obviously affiliated with her two callers. She stopped in her tracks.
“Where is Renata?” one of the men asked.
“I–I d — don’t know who that is,” Maisy stuttered, wringing her hands in front of her.
The man pulled out a Makarov and blew a gash in Lizzy’s leg. The girl wailed hysterically, as did her friend.
“Tell them to shut up or we’ll silence them with the next slug,” he hissed. Maisy did as she was told, asking the girls to stay calm and quiet lest they be executed by the strangers. Linda fainted, the shock of the intrusion too much to bear. The man who held her just dropped her to the floor and said, “Not like the movies, is it, sweetheart?”