Chapter 2 Lady Jane

Contents Back to Chapter 1 On to Chapter 3

        An hour later I descended to the driveway down the marble steps my great-great-grandfather had had brought from Carrara nearly 150 years before. The stranger stood holding the door of the long Mercedes limousine, obviously uncomfortably compressed into chauffer's livery, but for a moment as I paused at the top of the steps I could tell by his little intake of breath and slightly widened eyes that my simple black short silk sheath, single strand of exquisitely matched pearls, and four-inch heels were having the desired effect. I had indeed chosen wisely. I had pushed my hair up quickly into a chignon, strategically applied a minimum amount of makeup and an even more strategically-placed application of Eau Svelte. I was loaded for bear, dressed to kill, and I knew it.  No more were we in the stranger's milieu of parking lots and diners. We were in my world.
        At the door of the car I paused and looked up at him. I stepped a little closer than absolutely necessary and looked up into his eyes. "On the way to the Lockdale estate I would appreciate it if you'd tell me how you fit into the whole Eyes of God mystery. Oh, and your name. Because you see, I'm trying hard to figure out whether to believe you or have you arrested as an audaciously spectacular jewel thief and murderer."
        I locked his eyes with mine for an eternity, releasing him only when I was certain that he knew that I was absolutely in earnest about my claims; but not before I was certain that I had made the impression I had set out to make. Power and desirability. That's it, mysterious stranger, that's what you get for approaching me in the university parking lot! I, the daughter of Charlton E. Danbury III, the oldest money in San Diego! I, who can with a single nod of my head make or break the careers of any little squirming faculty or staff member at the University of California, I, who by my own vision and political savvy had set into motion an archeological dig that uncovered more than even my own wildest hopes! I, Katelin Elizabeth Danbury, the celebrated high society debutante turned Ph. D. in ancient civilizations, and then department head of Anthropology at UCSD at the tender age of 32. Feel my power and bend, oh mysterious stranger from the east!
        I made certain that as he let me into the back seat of the limousine, I raised my skirt to at least mid thigh, stretching  my long legs as far as I could before gathering myself into the seat. The stranger walked around to the front of the  car, looking unusually stiff in his uniform, I noticed, and I lowered the glass that separated cab from coach.
        As he pulled out of the driveway, I said, "Don't you even want directions to the estate?"
        "No, I can find it from here."
        "You really *do* know you way around this city, then don't you?"
        "Yes, Miss Danbury," the stranger replied.
        Not taken aback, or desperately attempting to appear not to be taken aback, I leaned forward in my seat so that  the perfume on my neck would drift delicately, enticingly to the driver's area. Only inches from his right ear, I spoke just inches above a whisper, "You can call me Kate. And what name do you go by?"
        "My name is Amal."

        I slowly leaned back in my seat and contemplated. "So," I thought to myself, "it seems I’m not the only one in this  car with incredible administrative power". My guess was that he was of the direct line of sultans which sprung from the original Amal. It made sense according to his story, if, it were indeed true. I considered asking him, but stopped myself. How did I know that anything he had told me from the onset was true? For all I knew he was  nothing more than a common jewel thief with a gift for colorful storytelling. Even worse, he could have known Stansfield from the dig, probably hired as cheap local labor, and followed him and the emerald to the States. And  if his story was all a lie, then Stansfield was murdered!
        I shuddered. This was the first time since I met this man that I felt that I may be in real danger. I felt that I needed  to say something, I had let the silence go unbroken for too long, but I didn’t know what to say. If I asked him to elaborate on his identity, I ran the risk of being pulled further down a dark path of fabricated intrigue where inevitable danger was waiting to swallow me up at the end. If he was indeed capable of killing Stansfield when he  no longer became of use to him, than what about me?
        My mind was racing for the correct response when Amal’s voice shattered the silence before I could.
        "You look distressed, Miss Danbury," he commented looking suspiciously at me through the rearview mirror,  "Was it something I said?"  
        "No, Amal," I said, "not distressed.  Concerned.  Very concerned.  For your safety."
        His eyebrows knitted together, then rose in amusement.  "For my safety?" he asked.  "You, looking the way you do, alone in an armored limousine with a man you hardly know at the controls, are concerned about my safety?"  He threw back his head and laughed, a rich, hearty laugh, but a laugh with no trace of warmth, pity, or compassion.  The laugh of a world-weary, callous killer.
        "Amal," I said, "I've changed my mind.  I would like you to turn the car around and take me home now."
        "Miss Danbury," he laughed, "Kate!  I'm afraid I can't allow that.   I must get into the Lockdale estate.  Tonight.  And you are my entrance ticket.  No, we must proceed.  That is, I must proceed."
        "And since I have refused?"
        "Then I have no choice but to take you there against your will."
        I sighed.  "Amal, I really don't think you want to do this."  He didn't answer.  His coldly smiling brown eyes, deeply brown, almost black, regarded me laconically in the rearview mirror.
        I felt for the button concealed in my armrest.  I pressed.
        In quick succession the bulletproof divider between cab and coach slammed up, the steering wheel froze, the brakes locked, and 7 non-deflating airbags pinioned the would-be kidnapper in place.  The heavy limousine slid to a stop in an amazingly short distance.
        How about that! I thought to myself.  Just like the anti-kidnapping training classes Daddy made me go through with the man from that fancy security firm from London when we got this new car!  Calmly I removed my seat belt and stepped from the car, coming around to the drivers window, which was electrically lowering itself as I approached.  I leaned on my crossed arms on the edge of the window and looked down at the pinioned, struggling man, my head tilted to the side.
        "Amal, my friend," I said, "if that is truly your name -- you have made a terrible mistake."  I thumbed off the safety on my Beretta and pressed it to the side of his head.
        "But Kate . . ." he started to protest.
        I pressed the gun hard against his temple, "Ms. Danbury to you, pal," I seethed, "And I have 10 years of A+ gun training and target practice that says you're not going anywhere until we get a few things straight.   First of all, remember whose car you're driving.  Second, remember that I am very, very well protected, so don't try a stunt like this again.  Third, you are my guest.  Is that understood?  Now, it's not as if I don't enjoy a good 'bout around the block every once in awhile, but you were getting downright rude."
        Amal slumped in his seat.  "I am sorry, Ms. Danbury, if I acted inappropriately.  I must admit that I am desperate.  I am not thinking rationally."
        "You behave very well with a gun to your head," I grinned ruefully.  "Now, how about some answers?  I mean, yes, Stansfield just dropped dead of a heart attack, and yes, we suspect that a priceless stolen gem might be at the Lockdale estate, but clue me in on the rest, would you?  It's been kind of a stressful evening here, and my brain stopped stringing thoughts together around 30 minutes ago."
        "I would remind you," said Amal, "That the gem is away from its rightful owner.  You and I both know that Lady Jane will not resist the opportunity to display it tonight.  The necklace that she has made from it is stunning, but it cannot be more deadly.  There is no knowing what will take place at her benefit.  Innocent people may be injured or worse.  She is wearing the Eye of Justice, for goodness sake!  The eye has been taken from the sword hilt on which it was set so many years ago, and now will make its first public appearance in the United States in a choker around Lady Jane's neck.  She cannot know what kind of revenge will be exacted on her for this atrocity.  I do not even know!"
        I blinked once, incredulously.  "Okay, I'll bite.  I'm going to pretend, just for now, that what you're telling me isn't the biggest fish story since Ernest Hemmingway, and that somehow Stansfield did drop dead of a curse and not of the shock to his poor, hardened arteries that came from reading this month's issue of Women's Mud Wrestling.  I love a good story.  Tell me one.  What is it that you think that you can do by simply showing up at the Lockdale Estate tonight?"
        "I can save the Lady Jane," said Amal with the confidence of a man who had just fallen off of his psychotropic medication.  "I can save her and I can save the entire benefit.  But please, there is so little time.  You must let me take us there now!"
        "Amal, now, you need to tell me why it is that you can save these people," I said, feeling in my purse for my cell phone.  I intended to keep this man talking to me until the police arrived, and I fully intended to call them while Amal was ranting, just as soon as his attention started to lag.
        "Ms. Danbury, please!  I am not crazy.  I know this sounds hard to believe, but I can save her because I have the Eye of Mercy.  The Eye of Mercy and the Eye of Justice were meant to be one.  Even a stolen eye will cease its wrath just for a moment in the presence of its mate.  Please, you have to trust me!"
        This was the time.  I fingered the dial on my phone, and was a fraction of a second from dialing help when I was nearly knocked over by a flurry of wind from the traffic.  The sirens were deafening, and the parade of ambulances and police cars must have extended for two blocks coming down the street.  I noticed with a sinking feeling in my gut that the procession was headed directly for the Lockdale estate.
        There was no time now to wait for the cavalry, and, it seemed they were already on the way.  I jumped into the limo, this time occupying the front seat with Amal, still holding him at gun barrel's length from me and ordered him to drive on.
        As we approached the estate, we were taken aback by the scene.  Law enforcement personal of all creeds were swarming around the Lockdale's luxurious mansion.  Swat teams were squatting in the bushes and ascending the walls.
        "Great Allah!"  proclaimed Amal.   "The jewel has taken it's victims!"
        "Remind me to never be "fashionably late" again!" I replied, trying to mask my horror at the sight of such a scene.
        As we approached the main gate we were stopped short by a young man wearing a nice suit, dark sun glasses and a communication head set.
        "I'm sorry, but we can't let you in, the party is canceled".  He stated firmly.
        "I realize that," I replied, "but could you tell me what is going on in there?"
        "All I can say is that it seems the Lockdales have acquired a bad case of terrorism.  Anything else would be classified information."
        "Terrorism, huh?  It wouldn't happen to be of the Mediterranean flavor?"  I asked eyeing Amal suspiciously, forcing my gun more snugly into his ribs, and in so doing, bending over to look up at him through lidded eyes.  Nope, I thought, not a Fed, not even a real local cop -- even with the dark glasses he so pompously affected at this time of night I could tell his gaze wasn't making it up to my face.  Amateur.  Rent-a-cop probably.  Then he confirmed my suspicion:  he chewed his lip, clearly tempted by the opportunity to be a bigshot and divulge the information.  And clearly the temptation won out.   "No," he said, leaning  confidentially toward me, "it's just one person, a guest or someone on the staff.  They went nuts and started killing people.  At least twenty guests are dead, more than eighty wounded.  And a half dozen police officers are down as well.  Whoever it is waded in with an automatic weapon, and is now holed up on the roof of the main house."
        "Well, thank you for the information.   You've been most helpful." I said, "I'll be sure and tell whatever security firm you're temping for just what a big mouth you have.  Drive, Amal!"
        Amal wasted no time gunning the limo up the driveway, leaving the slack-jawed security man staring after us.
        Clearly the real cops had plenty on their plates and had left traffic control to the security firm, and the security firm had just let them down.  But I had no doubt that he'd soon collect what wits he had and radio his buddies up at the house and maybe even the real cops that we were coming.   "Douse the lights and pull off the driveway, Amal.  Right there.   Into the eucalyptus trees.  Keep going until we're out of sight of the road."   Soon we were deep in shadowy darkness. "Stop."  He complied.
        "Were our situations reversed," he said in a voice altogether measured and reasonable, "right now I would be wondering whether to put a bullet into my captive, pistol-whip him into unconsciousness, or make some use of him.  Miss Danbury . . . Kate . . . I beg you to believe me when I tell you I am no madman, no bomb-throwing terrorist, no murderer, no jewel thief.  My only concern is to end the trail of destruction and death that has followed the gem's removal from its proper home."
        I regarded him silently for a long moment.   "Amal, I am an excellent judge of people.  You are a killer.  I smell it on you like carrion."
        "That I have killed there is no doubt," he answered.  "Many times through many years.  But never anyone who was not attempting to kill me or those I loved.  By the Prophet's beard, Kate, I speak the truth!"
        Without a word I turned the Baretta around and handed it to him.  "I assume you know how to use this?"  He pulled the slide back and chambered a round.  He looked up at me with dark smiling eyes.
        "As I thought," he said.   "There was no round in the chamber.  You weren't prepared to kill me."
        "But you weren't willing to bet your life on it, were you?" I asked.  "Open the trunk."
        As quick as he was exiting the car and getting around to the back I beat him there.  When he had unlocked it I quickly reached in and twisted out the small lightbulb so that it wouldn't be seen by all the law enforcement and security now thronging the estate, nor their helicopters circling above.  I reached further into the trunk for the black nylon bags that were always there.   Unzipping one of them I handed Amal its contents:  night vision goggles, a nearly new Heckler & Koch M4 assault rifle with laser scope, and a half dozen spare clips taped in pairs end to end..  He looked quizzically from me to the weapon in his hands.  "You don't accumulate as much wealth as my family has and keep it as long as we have without taking a few precautions," I informed him, field stripping my weapon, the twin of the one I had handed him.  He shrugged and began disassembling and reassembling his weapon, finishing ahead of me, though I had begun first and thought myself quite proficient.
        "As you wish, then," he said.   "Let us go up to the house and end this terror."
        "And hope that somehow Lady Jane is still alive in all the carnage," I added.
        "Kate," he said, "unless somehow beyond all reason the police penetrate the protection of the Eye of God before I get there with the other stone, we will indeed find Lady Jane alive.  For it is she who is atop her house, meting bloody death to all who dare come near."
        I snapped my head around.  Following his gaze to the top of the Lockdale Estate's carefully maintained roof, I gasped in amazement to see Lady Jane herself, wearing the emerald green cocktail dress featured just yesterday in the society pages of the newspaper and holding a semi-automatic assault weapon to her shoulder.  She was peering through the sights and firing at will, reacting almost like a predatory animal which responds only to movement.  Her shoes had long since been kicked off somewhere in her hell-bound frenzy, and she was now crouched like a sniper, using the muzzle of the gun as an extension of her pointer finger on her right hand.  It was almost comic-book like, I thought to myself.   Barbie goes ballistic ... or, Barbie's favorite aunt goes ballistic, I mused, frozen for a moment with incredulity.
        "What are you doing?  We're wasting time!" screeched Amal, tapping my elbow.
        "I was just thinking that she's incredibly agile for a 58 year old woman."
        "Look, on her neck: the Eye." Amal pointed and I looked closer.  He was right.  The eye of Justice, set in rose quartz in Lady Jane's necklace, was glowing eerily.  When she fired a slew of bullets into the crowd, the Eye took on an almost fiery radiance, leaping from her neck as if it were a star about to be born on the humble roof of a socialite.  For a moment, she slacked off of her frenzy, almost looking beaten and exhausted, but the jewel's intensity increased blindingly.  Jane threw her head back, screaming with an unearthly wail and a spark of renewed terror on her face.  Amal was already scaling the rose trellis on the west side of the house, and all I could do was follow him.  "Try to cover me from behind," he said, peering back at me as much as he dared.
        I climbed with one hand, turned back and held my gun with the other.  So far, we were unobserved, and I was thanking the Fates that I had chosen to wear black this evening.  As I scrambled onto the roof, I found Amal five feet ahead of me and on all fours.  The roof was built on a steep grade, and Jane was perched precariously at its highest point.
        "Amal!"  I yelled, but he had seen the danger ahead.  Jane was glaring at him like a cat, waving the gun in circles, muttering unintelligibles.
        "Cover me!" he shot back, "Distract her!"
        Right!  Distract a mad woman.  What was I to do, break out a yoyo?  I didn't have to think much, though, because as soon as I stood up on my knees, I was all Jane's.  Amal no longer existed as Jane and I danced our own ballet on the roof.  Predator and prey, ducking, dodging, parrying among an onslaught of wildly fired bullets and hurled pleas on my part. "Jane, please listen to ... Jane won't you think of what you're doing to ... Jane, for crying out loud, you virtually raised the governor!"  
        And then, as I thought this was turning out to be a sick joke on Amal's part, I caught a small, pink object out of the corner of my eye.  Amal held in his hand a tiny box that looked to be fashioned from the same rose quartz that glowed around Jane's neck.  As he carefully opened its hinges, I saw the glowing fire within it and knew that he held the Eye of Mercy in his hand.
        Lady Jane froze as if her puppeteer had been shot.  Through my dumbstuck, wide-eyed gaze I vaguely heard Amal say, "Be ready!"  I moved instinctively toward the jewel that glowed fiercely around Jane's neck, watching in amazement as a stream of piercing green light spun through the air from the jewel in the rose box to the jewel in the rose beset necklace.  Jane began to shiver and convulse.
        "Look out!"  I cried.  I was almost too late!  Jane began to sag and, inevitably one foot gave way on the steep roof.  I was under her in seconds, supporting her frail body with one arm.  Amal rushed to assist me and we managed to half carry, half drag the unconscious socialite to the trellis where we had gained access to the roof.  A fireman on a cherry picker was there at the side of the house to meet us.
        "Take her down," I said, "We'll climb to the ground and meet you."
        The fireman nodded, and we managed to stave off the confusion for long enough to get Jane to a waiting ambulance.  After answering a slew of questions from the "real" police, who had finally made their way into the confusion, promising to show up downtown, and catching my breath, I turned to Amal.
        "Well, this has been charming," I breathed, "But I hope you'll understand if I want to get a good night's sleep."
        "But, Kate, the jewel!"
        "...is found, and now you can return to your native land with your rightful property.  Glad to be of service. Good night."  I turned to walk away.
        "No, Kate, the jewel around Jane's neck is missing!"