Chapter 31 – Unpaid Debts

The second package had been delivered earlier that morning.  Lucky for the deliverer, Emerson was an early riser, else he might have been offended, to say the least, by the explosive knocking that had rattled his door.

As Emerson sipped his morning coffee he surveyed the neat stacks of documents that covered his kitchen counter. The second envelope had been considerably heftier.  It appears his new employers were more than eager to get Emerson on their payroll, even if it meant strong-arming him into it, which was clearly the intended purpose of the second package.  They hadn’t so much heard of Emerson’s dark dealings and were requesting them, as had been gifted them, by Henry Aquitaine. 

“I’m beginning to wish I had killed him myself Theodore.”  He sipped more of his coffee, staring at the feline, who had jumped squarely into the middle of his tidy piles.  Emerson pursed his lips in annoyance.  “I suppose you’re here for food, not conversation.”

Theodore meowed in response, hopping down from the counter as Emerson turned to acquiesce to the cat’s demand.  “You know for all your opinions Theodore, you rarely provide anything I would consider insightful.”  Placing the food down he watched a moment longer as his protestations went unheard by his new pet.

“Very well, I will simply have to resolve this myself, not like I haven’t been alone before.”  Turning back to examine the documents laid out before him, he carefully picked up different documents trying to make heads or tales of it all.  The gist of what had been sent in two envelopes was pretty simple.  The first to request his services, the second proof they had him over a barrel, right down to Henry Aquitaine’s ledger. Cursed Aquitaines, he regretted ever having gotten involved with the lot of them, Henry in particular.  

What he couldn’t seem to figure out was who these individuals were and how Henry was tied to them.  The man dealt in all sorts of shady dealings, but this, sweeping his eyes across the contents on the counter, and even Emerson, himself he noted.  Well he had assumed his past employer would have wanted to keep that sort of information close to the chest.  It would not do well to find a shining pillar of the community tied to a murder-for-hire plot.

Speaking of a plot, Henry never had explained his reasons for black mailing him. Then again, Emerson, shrugged, did he really care?  He’d just wanted to be rid of the past and get out of the whole mess.  Everything else was fodder for the fire.

He picked up a grainy photograph stained with the passing of time.  He held the picture in front of him for a long time, drawn in by the man with the boyish charm staring up from the photo.  He remembered those eyes, he’d melted into them once and believed every word.  He’d never even seen the monster lurking beneath, and by the time he had, well, he’d been in love.  How foolish.

The longer he stared the more the memories came flooding back.  

“Do you not see what he’s done?!” He could hear Henry saying. “Can you not see the carnage he will bring to bear if you do not do something about this?! You have to fix this, and fix it now”

“How do you propose I do that Henry? Kill the man?” He’d lashed out in frustration.  By that point the two men had been talking for hours about the issue.  It had felt like they were going in circles.  

“Make it look like a suicide would be best, and accident if you can’t manage that.”  

Emerson had started at the response he remembered.  He hadn’t expected a response at all, but then to actually hear his employer propose foul play as a viable option.  He would have brushed it off as frustration to match his own, but the tone of Henry’s voice brokered no uncertainty. 

“Henry you can’t be serious.”  He’d looked flatly at the man, giving him a chance to walk back his words. 

In response, Henry had only dug in further.  “The man is a liability to everything I have built, to leave him to his own devices would be ruinous to this company, to my legacy, and to my family.”

“But he’s your son, Henry! Your own blood!” He’d protested loudly, unnerved by the man’s conviction.

“If you do not deal with him, there will be casualties. You, among them.” Henry’s tone had been matter-of-fact.

That had brought him up short, he wasn’t sure how he’d felt about that statement at the time, but all the same, he’d jockeyed for a return to reason.  “Henry this is madness! We’re talking murder!”

“You think he will spare you, just because you two are lovers.” He’d looked Emerson in the eye then, unflinchingly. 

“But how could you…” Emerson had been at a loss for words.  No one was supposed to know. 

“You don’t think I don’t know my own son? How foolish can you truly be?”  Henry asked.  “I knew from the moment I saw you two together. I had even cautioned my son to keep his distance from you.   I’d never expected this was how things would turn out, but here we are, and because of my son, the man you love, you now find yourself with a hard choice to make.”

Henry slid to the edge of his chair, eyes still locked on Emerson. “See to it that the matter is taken care of or I will.” 

Henry had then stood up from his seat and left the room.  He’d left Emerson there speechless and at a loss.

The events that followed had haunted Emerson everyday since.  He never did determine was telling the truth, Henry or his son, but it didn’t matter anymore.  All that mattered was that the man he had loved was dead and it had been no one’s fault but his own. 
Emerson stood in the kitchen, trails of hot tears streaming down his face. The faded picture still held in his hand. “Im sorry.” He whispered.  “I’m so sorry.”  He dropped his head and quietly let the tears flow. Some debts could never be repaid, not even in blood.