A Victorian Tale Part 14

Chapter 14 (Dnkstar) In another fifteen minutes, she was in the inspector’s office and trying vainly to explain everything what she knew. Although, she’s attempted for a fourth time to explain what she knew of Lex’s hideous plot to the assembled party; still, they kept plying her with more and more questions…Hope sat down and held her head in frustration.“…And I’m telling you, Lord Wayne, I’ve already told you everything!! Mr. Luthor has set plans in place to create an international intrigue. He planned to have Miss Prince murdered; and that he employed my sister’s services to that end. He plans to start a war, and put himself on the Greek throne! And that’s only the beginning of his scheme! If he succeeds- many, many innocent people will die! Why do you all insist on standing here and talking when we should be setting about stopping him?!” “Why should we believe you when you’ve just admitted to being a co-conspirator in a plot to kill my fiancée? How do we know this isn’t some form of a trick as well?” “Pleeeaassseee,” she wailed in frustration. “He’s holding my sister hostage. If we don’t get to him soon, there’s no telling what---” “Your sister. Hhh.” Lord Wayne retorted. “And would this be the same sister who only hours ago did this to my fiancée?” he asked, motioning to the dark and swollen area on Diana’s otherwise beautiful face. “You don’t understand---” Hope’s voice once again, took on a pleading tone. “It’s not her fault. It’s what he…that…that… monster did to her! He bewitched her… he changed her into someone I don’t even know anymore! He’s destroyed her body, mind, and soul. And if we don’t stop him tonight, he’s going to take her very life as well!” At that, Diana stood up from her own chair, crossed the room, and put a comforting arm around the younger woman’s waist. Suddenly feeling very weak, Hope nearly collapsed into Diana’s arms. She struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to overtake her at any second. “It’s obvious to me,” said the inspector (emerging from the corner where he’d stood until now) “that this girl has come to us voluntarily, and at great personal risk to both herself, and her sister to give us this information. I’d think we’d be totally remiss in not, at least, acting on it.” “Agreed,” said the captain. “We’ll send up a good number of men and see to it that Mr. Luthor---” “No, don’t---!” Hope interrupted him. “You don’t know Lex Luthor like I do. The less people who know, the better. His power is far-reaching, and his spies could be lurking anywhere---including here, in Scotland Yard itself.” “Preposterous,” huffed the captain. “Why this place is as secure as Her Majesty’s very chambers. There isn’t a soul in this place that I wouldn’t trust with my very life.” Just then, a knock on the door startled everyone from their hushed conversation. “You wanted to see me, sir?” “Yes, Olsen. Come in and shut the door behind you. Here’s what I want from you, lad: Take this knife and make sure that it’s safely locked away in the vault. We’ll have someone run those fingerprint tests tomorrow. Then, you’re to gather a few more of our best men, and accompany these gentlemen up to Lord Luthor’s manor in the hills. We have quite a few questions to ask his lordship---” “Yes, sir.” “And Olsen---? Don’t tell anyone else of our doings here tonight. It’s best we keep this just amongst ourselves until all this business is sorted out.” “Yes, sir.” the younger man responded, as he gave a rushed nod of the head, and showed himself out; cautiously closing the door behind him. “Captain,” Lord Wayne inclined his head inquisitively in the captain’s direction, “You mentioned some ‘tests’. What tests were you referring to?” “Ahhh, we’ve got some newfangled ‘technologies’ in here. There are people who swear that you can tell who last handled an object, based on the handprints they’ve left behind. No two people have the same fingerprints, you see--- I never took much stock in all of it myself, but I must admit there does seem to be something to all of it, after all. Although from what this young lady says, it would appear that her sister is the likely culprit.” Hope winced at his words. Fascinating---”, said the earl, his steely eyes glinting like a child with a new toy. “Well, we should be making arrangements for you gents to be heading up now. I should tell you, sir, that I’m not at all comfortable with sending you to Lord Luthor’s manor. If things should get nasty, sir---” “You needn’t worry about me, Captain. I can most certainly handle myself if things should get ‘nasty’, as you say.” The captain looked at the earl with some degree of admiration. “Yes, sir. I do believe you could. Very well, we should be ready to get you lads going as soon as Olsen gets back.” “I’m going too---”. Diana stood up from where she was stooped, at Hope’s side. “---As am I.”, Hope chimed in. “Now see here, his lordship is one thing, he’s a man; but I’ll not allow some fragile women to be put in potential danger---” “This man had plans in place to have me murdered! I demand the right to confront him!!” “---And he is holding my sister hostage. If anything should happen to her, I’ll never forgive---” “It’s alright, Captain. I’ll personally take responsibility for these ladies. Besides”, he added with a slightly bemused smile, “I’d say both of these ladies have proven they’re more than capable of taking care of themselves, as well!” “Very well”, sighed the captain. “I suppose that’s it, then. I wonder what’s keeping Olsen-” ***** P.C. Olsen was nothing, if not an efficient man. After all, it was his efficiency that got him to the position that he was in at the Scotland Yard. And it was the same sense of efficiency that got him noticed by Lex Luthor, some time earlier, during that whole messy Blue Fields affair. Due to some bungling on another’s part, Kent had nearly stumbled onto the truth about what had really happened to those street sellers. But with some very creative manipulation of the evidence in the case, James had seen to it that some poor, addle-brained drunkard was convicted and hanged for those crimes. It wouldn’t have done for the illustrious Mr. Luthor to have been connected, in any way, to those deaths. After all, that’s the sort of thing Lex Luthor paid him so well to take care of. And so it was with the knife in this case. He was going to make very, very sure that, that unfortunate, little piece of evidence would never see the light of day again! After deftly dispensing with that little problem, he carefully checked the outer offices to be sure no one would see, and quietly made his way to the room that held the telegraph machine. He quickly fired off a cable to the Luthor manor, warning his employer of the Wayne party’s escape, Hope’s betrayal, and the captain’s dispatch of an entourage coming to pay a “visit”. And he added as a post-script that he was to be included in that entourage, should Luthor need him to carry out any last minute “instructions” upon their arrival. Then, he headed set about to fetching the rest of the officers needed for their trip. Finally, the other officers in tow, he returned to the captain, Kent, and their group. “Damnation, Olsen. Where have you been?” thundered Captain White. “Sorry, sir. It took a few minutes to carry out all your instructions; but you needn’t worry, sir. I’ve seen to it that everything has been properly taken care of. And P.C. James Olsen thought to himself with a wicked smile: “You may be sure sir-everything has been taken care of.” Lex Luthor wandered about through his remaining guests, a smile fixed solidly to his face. He was his usual witty, charming, and debonair self. No one there could have suspected that his mind was far from the festivities. He pretended to be listening to yet another one of Oliver Queen’s droll jokes, when Wembley crossed the floor and accosted him, an odd expression on his face: “Sir, a cable has just arrived in your office. I really think you should see this. NOW.” Luthor glared a warning in Mr. Wembley’s direction. He would pay for his sub ordinance. Of course, that was before Lord Luthor actually read the cable. Then, all thoughts of Wembley were promptly forgotten, in light of “more pressing issues”. With smile still fixed to his face, Luthor excused himself, and headed hastily upstairs. Once out of sight of his guests, however, all vestiges of the “charming and debonair” Luthor were gone. He became like an enraged bull! He rampaged about the upper levels, shouting, and throwing any objects in his path. Finally, he reached his private quarters, red-faced, and wild with rage! “What in the bloody HELL is the meaning of this!?!” he shrieked as he crossed the floor to the corner, where the injured Mercy lay. “Wha--what?” Mercy looked up, from her haze of pain and confusion. “This!! I gave you wenches EVERYTHING!!… I gave you MY LOVE! And THIS is how you REPPPAYYY MEEE?!?” “Lex...Mr. Luthor, I don’t know what you’re---” “Gaaahhhh!!!” he roared. “You DARE to look me in the face and LIIIEE to me about this?!?!” he waved the cable, then tore it up and threw it into her face. “I’m telling you right now--- you and that TRAITOROUS WHORRING sister of yours are as good as DEAD!! Unfortunately, I don’t have time to ‘deal’ with you now; but this is not finished! You, of ALL people, should KNOW what happens to people who BETRAY ME!!!” With that, he hit Mercy with the back of his hand, with a horrific thwapping sound that rang throughout the room; sending blood flying from the nose and mouth of the already suffering young woman. “Luckily for me, it just so happens that I have one last ’ace’ up my sleeve that the inspector, and the rest of those dolts, could never EVEN CONCEIEVE of-much LESS see coming!! Wembley, see to it that our ‘dear’ Mercy is secured until the Lord Wayne, the inspector, and the rest of their party return. Then I think we should arrange a ‘very special reunion’ for Miss Graves and her sister. Carry on, my good man . I have the rest of my guests to see to… for now. And as for you, my love: I shall return later for you …AND YOUR SISTER.” After Lord Luthor’s departure- Wembley, with a cold smile, strode to where the ailing Mercy lay. He brutally yanked her injured arm behind her, until she cried out in agony. Then he grabbed for her other, and secured them tightly behind her back, with a strong piece of abrasive hemp, that bit into her flesh with each movement of her hands. He then turned, watered down the fire in the fireplace (the room’s only source of heat and light) and in a flash, he too was gone. Mercy let out a gasp of despair as she heard him insert the key, and bolt the lock behind him. She raised her head, and looked around to the room that had suddenly become a cold, dark prison to her---and quite possibly her execution chamber. Through the haze of madness that had for so long surrounded her, and through the blinding pain that threatened to consume her, Mercy had found one pinprick of light-one shining moment of clarity. For quite possibly the first time in her life, she saw all that she have been before, and that that she had become because of that man, LEX LUTHOR. She hadn’t started out this way, but after all that she had done to serve him-to please him, she had tainted, nay damned her very soul. It was a thought that shook her to her very core. And after that, this was all that was to become of her? She raised her eyes heavenward, and prayed to her gods for some small amount of forgiveness-and if at all possible- for the opportunity of redemption. At whatever cost to her. And what of Hope? Where was she? Was she safe? At the ironic sound of her sister’s name, she let out a caustic, sardonic laugh. But just as suddenly, there came the warm feel of tears on her face; something that Mercy Graves had not felt in a lifetime. Indeed, where was hope at all?