Page 25 of Kept 3
“Gerald calm down, I’m going to do it, I’m simply enjoying the chase, you must admit, you know how that is.”
Even as I said this, I wondered, ‘am I? Is it the chase I am enjoying? Or is it her company?’
“Under different circumstances, yes,” he agreed, “but the longer we leave the hunters unattended to, the greater their strength. Who knows what they are doing with the information from your journals, Nicholas.”
“Yes, you are right Gerald, although I do have some information that will cheer you up. The Hunter’s name is James Lanesborough, he has been living under the name James Hunter, and he was staying not five miles from where your Kept has her apartment.”
“I hope you are going to tell me he is no longer breathing,” he said quietly.
“Actually, no, he is still breathing, he and his sister have disappeared – but I do have a photograph of him.”
“Nicholas,” Gerald growled.
“Gerald,” I snarled back, “don’t start with me. You had responsibility for the US hunters, and one was right under your nose while you were playing ‘catch a kept’ and attending the races. I at least tortured the one on my end.”
“Tortured, yes,” he snorted, “but you let her go.”
“And you let yours go.”
“I couldn’t find him,” he shouted down the line.
“Maybe if you hadn’t been looking at a little piece of Mexican arse you would have kept both eyes on your job,” I said quietly. I knew my voice contained a deadly edge to it, but I was well and truly sick of being reminded of how remiss I had been with Ms Lucy Bernshire.
“Perhaps you are right,” he said, changing tack, “so take a leaf out of my book, Nicholas. Keep your eye on your position, your existence and your responsibilities, and don’t get distracted by a piece of low-life skirt.”
I felt my hackles bristle at his summation of Josephine.
“Gerald, you have known me long enough to know class distinctions matter little to me in anything but my meals.”
“If you don’t plan to eat her, just kill her, stop fucking around, Nicholas.”
“Yes, Gerald,” I sighed, “you are right.”
Although, even as I said this, I was torn.
New Entry
I asked her to dine with me tonight, and then, I let her go.
For weeks we have spoken, but tonight meeting her eyes, I confess she took my breath away. And when she realised who I was and ran, I was left bereft.
I cannot kill her. I will let Gerald know that she is no longer of any concern, and I will assure him I am switching my attention to the Lanesboroughs.
I am not looking forward to this conversation.
I put the journal down and yawn, there are only three or four more pages to go, but I am so tired. And relieved. I am relieved he was telling the truth when he said he planned to let me go, and stunned that he finds me, I mean he really does find me, attractive. But I know what I am putting off. I need to read what happened to Lucy and Ricardo, to settle that matter once and for all.
New Entry
I have tracked Ms Bernshire to Sicily, and tonight I will pop her little blonde head off her neck so fast she won’t know what hit her.
I feasted this week upon two blondes in the lead up to this assassination, and I concede I was rougher than I had to be with them. My anger is such of late that I hardly know myself. I can only put it down to the fact that I am completely and utterly bored with pursuing these hunters, bored with my meals, bored with life itself, as I have not been for some time. Usually, this despondency relates to being at Ereston, but not this time. I have not returned to my ancestral seat in months.
No, it is something else.
I have been so maudlin I have kept to myself mostly, holed up in this apartment or that. I have not even answered Gerald’s calls. Lately, he annoys me no end.
He doesn’t know I am in Sicily. I will inform him once the deed is done.
