The 18th of April 2015 broke as any other morning, with the chattering of birds and the medieval screeching of ravens, crows, the fluttering of wings with rays of sunlight streaking through the wispy mist over the river, tingeing everything touched in a golden shine.
I wonder who will be at the party this evening even though I’m sure it’ll be the usual crowd of writers and artists, the odd musician and I realise with a shudder that I’m so not looking forward to this “event” for lack of a better word. Nigel most certainly will be there, he misses not out on free food and drink, never contributes. And I’m certain as can be Windy Wendy also will be there, as will Saucy Sandy, Jumpy Eye Jimmy, Sean and Murran. Lord and Lady Kilsheelan, my hosts, obviously will be present as it is at their manor house the party is each and every year.
Lady Megan has asked me to assist her in the decorating of the house and also with some of the snacks although the bulk of the banquet will be done by the caterers, so I better stop day-dreaming and get my arse into gear. Good morning Megan, slept well? Oh there you are Jeanne, yes I did and how about you? Oh I slept like a log and snuggly too. May I have a cup of coffee please, I ask, I need the caffeine blast right now. Of course you may my dear, where are my manners and I‘ll join you. How about muffins to go with the coffee or would you rather prefer tea? Och Megan you sometimes know me better than I do me self – tea of course and Earl Grey at that.
I wonder Jeanne; would you go to the shop and pick up those ingredients I would need for the snacks? I’ll certainly go to the shop and while I’m in town is there anything else that needs to be picked up, I ask? I don’t think so says Megan and do take the van. There’s no need for you to use your own car. Thank you for offering the van but I’d rather use the Porsche as I’m just more comfortable with the little Kraut. Of course you are you little speed freak, Megan says with a smile.
Well I’ll be off then, I say, grabbing my bag and Faust’s keys and rushing out the door to the carriage house where the cars are being kept. Good morning Faust I greet my little Porsche clad in charcoal grey and dayglow pink accoutrements. With a rumble-growl Faust roars a good morning as she wiggles her cute behind accelerating down the narrow lane and into the road to town. As I accelerate towards town, I notice a dark blue or green transit van parked at the side of the road deeply under cover of low-hanging tree branches. Looks kind of suspicious if you ask me but then there might be a very plausible reason for it to be parked right there. At the same time something about the transit van is bothering me but I can’t lay my finger to it, just as I turn into Tesco’s.
An hour later I was flying down the road towards the manor house when I noticed the transit van with its blacked-out windows, still parked deep under the trees, and I still wonder what it is about the van that’s bothering me when I sharply turn onto the lane to the manor house. With my arms laden with parcels I stumble towards the back door when strong arms grab me from behind making me jump from fright, a voice whispering in my ear – “and where does my favourite girl wanders off to with all these parcels, eh!” Roddy you bugger, you frightened the life out of me. C’mon make your-self handy with these parcels – Megan is waiting for them, I say. Roddy darling, did you notice the transit van underneath the bushes just outside the gate – about a hundred meters up the road? No my love, I did not see anything at all. I was running in and out the house all of the time until now. But thinking of it – there is always vehicles parked under bushes and trees all over the show and at the funniest hours at that. Maybe I’m seeing ghosts where there are none, I say. I’m off to help Megan get the house ready for tonight.
Good lord Megan, look at the time – it’s already half six and the first guests most likely would arrive within the next hour or so. Off you go to get yer self ready and I’ll do the same. I can place a wager Roddy is already two single malts strong and here we are wi’ our throats full of parchment. Stop your fussing – the place looks great as always, I say as I run up the staircase for a quick shower and make-over. I think I’ll wear that black cat suit with the lace-up ankle boots. And maybe the black beret for that slight militant look.
Almost as if choreographed both Megan and I sashayed into the drawing room where Roddy, splendidly attired in almost black silk trousers, midnight blue silk shirt and matching lightweight jacket, was gazing into the amber contents of a crystal cut-glass tumbler. Och there you are, the two most important and gorgeous girls in me life and what will your tipples be, asks Roddy? I’ll have a large G & T with a splash of lime, Megan says and I would love a decent single malt whiskey, preferably Bushmills 16year but only if you have, if not, a Bushmills 10year malt will be perfectly acceptable says I, knowing full well the extent of Roddy’s liquor collection and especially his collection of very fine whiskeys from all over. One magnum size G & T with lime coming up and one Bushmills 16year just for you luv, says Roddy with a twinkle in the eye just as the door chimes announce the first guests’ arrival.
Well, well if it isn’t Saucy Sandy and Jumpy Eyed Jimmy screams Megan, do come in you bloody brigands and make yourselves at home, not that you need any invitations. And a good evening to you too Lady Megan they said in mock reverence. Hello Roddy old boy and if it isn’t Jeanne D’Arcady standing over yonder looking prettier by the day. How are you Luv, Saucy and Jumpy say in unison just as Windy Wendy, Sean and Murran walks in and shouting their hello’s. Please listen up for a moment, Roddy shouts over the din – you all know the rules – you serve yourselves from the bar and what is open on the bar is available. What is behind lock and key is not and it’s also not negotiable. Dinner will be served at a most decent hour and in the dining room with platters of tasty titbits scattered all over. Let the festivities begin, sayeth Lord Kilsheelan.
So my dear Jeanne D’Arcady, what are you doing in our neck of the woods, Jumpy asks, or should I rephrase – when did you fly in? Jeezz Jumpy, you’ll be the death of me creeping up on me like this. But to answer your question me lad, I flew in on Wednesday and I most likely will fly out again in a week’s time. Won’t you be a darling and bring me a Bushmills 16year single malt and I’ll tell you why I’m here. One single malt Bushie coming up and now pray tell. Well Jumpy, I came over to Ireland to do some research for a book I’m writing. I know I can get all the info on the internet but to me that just not is the same as to stay in loco for a period of time to get the feel for the place, the people etc. But tell me about Jumpy – are you still painting? I remember from my last visit I saw some of your works and which I found to be to my taste of paintings. Aye Lass I’m still painting and even if I have to say so myself, I do have a certain success as of lately. Why don’t you come round in the morrow and have a look and then pick any one you like, Jumpy says at the same time as Roddy announces that we should proceed to the dining room for dinner.
Proceeding to the dining hall, the most exquisite aromas wafted through space and finding its way into our nasal passages, invading our olfactory senses – rosemary, sweet basil, garlic mixed with subtle spikes of Habanero chili . . . causing me to keep my mouth shut for the fear of drooling. I wonder what the seating arrangement would be, if ever there was one – the Kilsheelan’s aren’t big on plomb and ceremony as I find meself in between Murran and Windy Wendy. Hello Girls, are you well? Aye we are thank you for askin’ and yerself? Never better thanks, never better. My apologies for not saying hello earlier but I was entertained by Jumpy Jimmy, most delightfully so I must add. He’s quite the artist now ain’t he? Och you could say so says Murran and I’ve seen his work – he’s actually excellent and quite affordable still. So prey tell dear Jeanne, is your visit business or pleasure or a bit o’ both? I’m sorry to say but it’s a bit of both and more of the business and less of the leisure – I’m here to do some research on a book I’m writing and speaking of which Murran, are you still with the publishers? You were with some large publishing house if my memory serves me right? Aye I’m still there and slaving myself off to the masters. That’s great news says I, how about I make an appointment to come see you in a day or so, strictly business and not to spoil this fine evening talking business, at the same time clinking our glasses in a pre-emptive toast.
Just then the waiters appear with the starter dish – roasted Barracuda slivers served on tiny squares of tagliatelle and beluga caviar with lime wedges. If this is the starter, says Wendy, I wonder what the rest of the menu looks like. We’re being spoiled, if you ask me Sean interjects, I wonder what the occasion might be or is it one of Roddy’s whims he’s afflicted with from time to time. At the same time the waiters enters the dining hall to remove the starter dishes. A movement from the corner of my eye distracts my attention from what Sean was saying. Something is off with one of the waiters but I can’t just put my finger to it, something about the waiter floats around in the back of my mind.
As I took a sip of my Chateau Rothchild, a lovely wine from the Bordeaux area, a muted popping sound, similar to the sound of a Champaign cork shooting from its magnum and almost not noticeable through the din of laughter and conversation catches my ear. Ever so subtle I look in Roddy’s direction only to find he’s looking straight at me, silently mouthing “you heard that?” with me nodding in the affirmative. Would you be so kind and excuse me for a moment I say to Murran, have to go to the little girl’s as I slowly pushed my chair backwards just as another popping sound emanates from the kitchen area. Be calm Jeanne D’Arc, you have to be not to cause panic as I casually walked off in the direction of the bathrooms and seeing from the corner of my eye Roddy has also excused himself, walking in the same general direction. I suddenly remember Roddy’s game room is not far off from the bathrooms and it seems as if he is heading straight for the game room. The game room also happens to be out of sight from the kitchen and dining room and ever so slightly away from the bathrooms.
Jeanne me luv in here Roddy says in a soft whisper from his gaming room. Silently I moved into the room and closed the door to a crack. Seeing as I’ve never entered Roddy’s room before, I was under the impression it would contain billiards and the likes but no, two sides of the room is covered with display cabinets full of all types of rifles, side arms and swords and daggers – quite the collection. What the hell is going on Roddy asks? I’m certain as can be the popping sounds I heard are muffled gunshots and not popping champaign corks. Roddy you are not mistaken, you were in the SAS for too long not to know the sound. For me this is a sad reminder of a life I thought I left behind years ago I say, what do you propose we should do? Whatever is going to go down is going to happen very soon, maybe already is happening Roddy. Think you are absolutely right he says and we are out of the “killing zone” so to speak and we will be missed, at least I will be missed as I’m the host. I am going to pick a fire-arm which is easily concealed as I will be searched but what would you like dear Jeanne? Mmm, let me see. I would want to start with a knife – thin bladed and very sharp and then I would also pick a revolver as revolvers are very reliable and doesn’t jam, a .44 magnum with short barrel, four inches and a few speed-loaders. You’re right in your evaluation Roddy – they are going to miss you and they might also miss me – would you be able to cover for me? You could say that I did not feel very well and went up to my room to lie down. You do realise Jeanne D’Arcady, that there is going to be bloodshed tonight and we would have to do all we can to ensure that the blood spilled is not that of our friends and loved ones. Let’s go get them Roddy and Godspeed as I slipped silently out the door and down the passage towards the staircase and my room.
Let’s divide and conquer is my motto as I ascend the staircase. How am I going to do this – am I going to lie down on my bed pretending to be . . . or am I going to stalk who-ever comes looking for me and take him or maybe her from behind? I know it’s cowardly to take someone from behind but then these people aren’t the world’s biggest heroes. As I proceed down the passage towards my room, I realise with a jolt that I decided to wear my black cat-suit – I must be clairvoyant because it’s the perfect piece of clothing affording me almost invisibility. The one thing I really would want to know is – how many of them are there? They may be 20 strong which would place us in an untenable situation but four, five or even six might just be manageable between Roddy and I. The knife I picked is also a dull black and won’t reflect any light. Jeanne D’Arc, you better come to grips with what is going to happen in the next number of minutes, you can’t have any doubts in that critical moment when your life depends on it.
The sharp crack of a pistol shot reverberates through the manor house followed closely by the dull boom of what must certainly be a shotgun. These highwaymen do seem to mean business and will be extremely dangerous and I’ll have to be careful, Roddy too. Now that I have your attention ladies and gentlemen, just a few simple rules, I hear from my concealed spot and I could swear I have heard the voice before. I say Roddy old chap, the voice says in a well-modulated and very upper class voice, you do seem surprised to see me. Now listen up, we are not here to hurt you and your guests. We only came to take what we feel should rightfully be ours. We are not in the least interested in your cell phones and the small change in your purses and wallets, but we are interested in some of these highly priced works of art you so deliberately display on these walls and not to mention the priceless works of art in your hidey hole art cellar. So here’s how it’s going to proceed – we are going to tie everyone to his or her chair and then we are going to proceed to relieve you from your priceless worldly possessions. Ohh and Roddy – I almost forgot, where is that arrogant bitch that drives that charcoal grey Porsche GT3 with the pink and don’t tell me she’s not here for I saw her this morning. Nigel you piece of turd, why oh why are you doing this? Roddy asks in a subdued voice. Just answer the fucking question Rod old man and I’m not going to ask again Nigel repeats his question in a menacing voice. She’s upstairs – she went up to lie down as she is not feeling well.
Is that a fact now? Samantha why don’t you go upstairs and find this woman, this Jeanne D’Arcady, I really want her here with us as she has been irritating me for years what with her holier than though attitude and always knowing better, always ready with an answer. Go now and find her, we will in the meantime tie this bunch up and start moving our possessions to the vans. Megan me luv, do not look at me like that, like the cat drag me in, with that superior stiff upper lip of yours. Well luv you’re tied up now and your stiff upper lip is not going to assist you at all and while on the topic of help – do not expect anything from your servants and the waiters. They’re also tied up except two who were very un-co-operative and will stay so for the rest of eternity.
What is taking Samantha so long, I mean how difficult could it be to bring down a bitch with a headache to the table, eh Roddy my boy? Janey, go and assist Samantha and Roddy, if me girls aren’t back within two minutes, I am going to shoot someone here at the table, it will be a random pick. Nick, Mikey, Ronnie, start removing the stuff to the vans. What’s the matter, Rod me son, cat got your tongue? Why are you doing this Nige, I always thought we were friends, you and I? We’ve been through such a lot when we were younger, did things together, chased so many girls, didn’t we? Well Roddy, to answer but one of your questions – you took from me the most priceless thing, possession if you wish, you went and stole Megan from me and went on and married her. I suffered you for so many years and then you started collecting these priceless artefacts and as you can see now – I had my fill . . .
Well Jeanne lass, there is no turning back I say to myself just as Samantha slowly comes to my room. I have to be quick as Janey is also on her way as I slip silently up to Samantha, clamping my right hand over her mouth and nose and pulling back at the same time, slitting her throat with the left. Holding her body up by the head I opened my bedroom door and dropped her behind the door and only then realising she was wearing a very nasty little number – an H & K MP5 with suppressor on. Nige saying they’re not interested in hurting us my arse. Good lord why is blood so sticky? Hey Sammy where are you comes Janey’s urgent whisper, Nigel says we must hurry up! My oh my dear Janey, or should I say dead Janey, Sammy is waiting for you at the Styx as I pull her gun hand away and upwards, at the same time shoving the knife up through her mouth and into the brain, dropping her onto Samantha. I have to hurry – Nigel is going to shoot someone and we can’t have that, can we just as a shot rang through the house and into my soul.
I will have to look for another way down – Nigel will expect Samantha and Janey from the staircase, remembering the narrow stairway at the end of the passage ending next to the game room. From now on onwards the knife will be useless unless I could get very close up and that is not going to happen. Roddy hold on my dear, I know you are tied up but I’m coming, slowly going down the staircase and the .44 magnum at the ready. SAMANTHA, JANEY where are you screams Nigel, giving me a fright. Roddy, I’ve already shot old Saucy, so where is that D’Arcady bitch? Roddy, do something, divert his attention I silently prey and simultaneously carefully looking around the doorjamb into the dining hall. Nigel my dear ex friend Roddy says in a soft monotone, what do you know of Jeanne D’Arcady? How well do you know her other than when you’ve met her here at my house? Come on Nigel – cat got your tongue. Shut your fucking mouth you prick and she is just a bleeding glorified writer, she is. Well Nige old chap, if that is the case, where are your two girls? I mean they shouldn’t have any trouble subduing a writer or is it that this writer used to be in the equivalent of our very own MI6. SAMANTHA, JANEY WHERE ARE YOU?
I want Nigel for last but only if it is possible. Where are the other three, as I will have to take them in quick succession, no warning shots – will do that after the fact just as the three of them walks into the room, close to each other. Well Jeanne here goes – Rick, Mikey, Ronnie! I call out as I fired three shots from the magnum in quick succession, dropping two of them and winging the third and turning towards Nigel just as something slams into my right shoulder with a burning force, dropping me to my knees. Oh God Nigel has shot me I think when another bullet slams into the wall next to my face. Through a blur I see the third man raising his Glock at the same time as Nigel prepares to fire another shot at me. With an effort I raise my magnum, squeezing the trigger while at the same time falling to my right, hitting Mr. Three in the chest with another bullet from Nigel grazing my upper thigh, causing Megan to scream and Nigel whipping around to face Megan and ending up behind Roddy; leaving me with a very small target and the possibility of hitting Roddy, if I should fire. Nigel old chap, you were born a prick and you still are a prick I say in a husky whisper. You were born a nothing and you still are a nothing. Samantha and Janey went to the river Styx, I think they had a rendezvous with the boatman Kieran. I slit Samantha’s throat and I scrambled Janey’s brain, what little she had with my knife. And now I am going to shoot you but not dead – you have to suffer a bit. As I pulled the trigger, the most unearthly scream burst from Nigel’s mouth at the same time as my bullet hit him in the chest.
Megan dear do you think you could untie yourself and give me a hand? I think old Nige has perforated me ever so slightly and I feel a bit weak. And no not all the blood on me is mine – most of it comes from the girls upstairs. Old Nigel really made certain you’re not going anywhere I say to Roddy, seems he’s tied you ever so tightly. It’s not funny Jeanne, he found the gun I took from the game room and he used that to shoot dear Saucy. Careful Megan you’re cutting me up Roddy shouts, jumping up from the chair with Megan helping me to my feet. Looking towards Nigel I see Roddy standing over him, shaking his head – he’s alive but barely, those magnums are nasty pieces of work, I think he is slightly damaged at the back where the chunk of lead exited.
Good God, all this just because Nigel saw Megan as his, his possession and you stole his possession from him in his mind. Did he ever go out with you Megan? No not really as we always went out in a group and apart from that I couldn’t stand the sight of him but tolerated him all these years as he was Roddy’s friend or so I thought. That is until tonight. Let’s get us all over to Maxwell’s house. He is a very dear friend and he also served with Roddy in the SAS and he is a doctor too. Megan just look at Murran, Sean, Wendy and Jumpy, they are in total shock so let’s feed them some whiskey. Is Saucy dead? If not he will need very urgent attention and then I would suggest the good doctor comes here instead of all of us going there. Megan quick call your doctor I think Murran is really going into shock and Wendy too. Limping over to where Saucy is slumped in his chair, I feel for a pulse and detecting an ever so slight pulse even though I can’t see if he’s been shot at all. Pushing my hand inside his jacket gently probing, I feel the stickiness just below the ribcage and if he does not get any medical attention within the next 10 minutes, he won’t make it.
Ohh lordy lord booms a voice from the doorway, am I in a slaughterhouse or what? What the hell happened here Megan? Oh Maxwell thank God you’re here. Please look at Saucy first – Jeanne says he is in a very bad way, he’s been shot. Do you have any tranquilizers in that party bag of yours? Good then Jeanne and I could give the other three each a shot and one for me husband too – he’s out of it. Roddy dear – we will have to do something about all these bodies lying around, do you still have contact with any cleaning services? Doctor Max? May I call you Max? Would you be so kind, when you’re done with old Saucy, to have a look at my punctures and maybe sew them up a bit, I ask Maxwell. Certainly my dear and I’m sorry to say but there is nothing more I can do for old Saucy Sandy here. His internal bleeding was just too much and he exsanguinated. Thank you Doctor I say with tears streaming down my blood streaked face.
Roddy slowly turns away from Nigel’s body on the floor, a terrible look of anguish on his face. Megan my love, please forgive me for letting this happen – I never once did realise Nigel was gone mentally this far. Thank you dear Jeanne D’Arcady for being here, for you noticing things and I am truly sorry that you had to do what you did tonight. Aye Roddy me lad, I didn’t enjoy doing what I did but then I had no choice in the matter and I’m very thankful for the training I received so many years ago. I think the best would be for us to place all of this behind us, not that we would ever forget this night.
Jeanne D'Arc
