Page 38 of Skotos
Three servants hovered nearby, pouring and plating with the silent choreography of a ballet troupe. I almost said something about the whole episode feeling like home but thought better of it. The Baroness, with her seemingly limitless access to information, no doubt knew my true family heritage, but I would never confirm nor deny the veracity of such. Plus, broaching the topic of my privilegedDuPont upbringing would only encourage another round of teasing and taunting from Will. Those usually lasted days, not hours.
So, instead of making any comment, I simply snatched a croissant and shoved it into my mouth.
Halfway through our meal, the Baroness’s head of household, a short man with a pronounced limp causing him to list to his left, appeared in the doorway, hobbled across the length of the room, and leaned in to whisper something in his mistress’s ear. Her expression didn’t flicker, but she wiped her mouth delicately, stood, and said, “Pardon me a moment, my dears. An unexpected guest has appeared at my door.”
She returned less than two minutes later with atall, scrawny man whose bones looked like they wanted to escape his skin trailing behind her. The man’s uniform was rumpled, his eyes bloodshot, and his expression lay somewhere between worry and barely contained urgency.
“May we have the room, please,” the Baroness said to the men and women in livery lining the walls. Our breakfast saviors left, the door clicking shut behind the last of them.
“Messieurs,” the Baroness said with cool formality, “this gentleman is from Swiss customs. He has something you will want to see. I do apologize for intruding on our meal.”
The man bowed slightly and withdrew a small, cloth-wrapped bundle from inside his coat. “I do not wish to alarm you,” he said in halting English, “but I believe I have stumbled upon something significant.”
The customs officer hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the bundle tucked beneath his arm, until the Baroness waved an impatient hand. “Come now, no need to look like you walked in on a funeral. Show them what you found.”
The man gave a shallow bow and stepped forward. “I am Inspector Vogel of Swiss border enforcement. Early this morning, a routine sweep near an airfield outside Lugano uncovered something strange.” He unfolded the cloth and revealed a sealed evidence pouch. Inside it, glinting dully beneath the lamplight, was a spent bullet casing. The metal was badly scorched and dented.
Vogel continued, his English halting but serviceable. “This was found in a drainage trench, well away from the tarmac. The markings—” He pulled a photo from his coat pocket and placed it beside the casing.
Will and I leaned in.
The etching was faint, almost hidden beneath burn marks; but it was unmistakable: a long, stylized spear.
My blood went cold.
Vogel went on. “At first, I thought it was ceremonial, but the casing matches the same caliber used in precision long-range rifles. It is military grade.” He hesitated. “The report we submitted was meant for internal review only, but my supervisor flagged it to intelligence an hour ago. He insisted we keep this very quiet. I have never known him to insist on such discretion.”
“Where did this photo come from?” I asked.
“My camera.” He pointed to his own chest. “I snapped this image just after the casing was found. There has been no official report yet, only the internal one my superior flagged.”
“Has anyone been shot in the area?” Will asked. “Surely, if there’s a casing, a bullet was fired.”
Vogel shrugged in a most European way. “I know of no gunshot victims at the airport—or anywhere nearby. We would have heard of such had it occurred so close to a port of entry.”
Silence stretched across the table, a tangible thing, like an unseen hand grasping at each breath.
“Who else has seen this?” Will asked sharply.
“Only my commanding officer, myself, and now you.” Vogel shook his head. “Unless—”
“Unless what?” the Baroness snapped, her eyes narrowing like a leopard homing in on its prey.
“Unless the security services chose to share it with others.”
I exhaled slowly.
Had our mysterious enemy made a mistake? It might be small, but it was definitely enough to set off alarms, enough to tell us we were getting closer.
Ortheywere getting closer to finding us, given the casing was found in the country in which we now sat. The thought of a group capable of such precise violence knowing our location, understanding our mission, and showing up within miles of our location sent a wave of nausea through me.
Vogel looked between us, uncertain. “Do you know what it means?”
Will and I exchanged a glance. He shook his head, ever so slightly.
“We might,” I said. “But for now, it’s best if you tell no one else about it.”
Will leaned forward, elbows pressed into the table. “Why did you bring this here?”
