Chapter 39 – Silver Linings
Emerson sat alone in his apartment. As enjoyable as the time with Duncan had been. He had some choices to mull over. Some things were best done in private. He leaned against the kitchen counter, glass of wine in hand as he once again reviewed the contents of the envelopes he had received some days before.
He was surprised and curious as to why his prospective employer, who had seemed so eager that first day, suddenly had allowed Emerson to be lax in his response. Maybe it was only important that he knew he was being called upon. Or maybe they’d just forgot. He rolled his eyes. That was wishful thinking.
They had made it abundantly clear, they had him cornered. There were copies of some pretty damning evidence, including the grotesque letters he’d written to Aquitaine, in hopes it would be enough to turn him from his cruel lust for death. It had apparently made no difference. Now all his new employer saw was a man out for blood. For all his careful planning and considerations Emerson had made a mess of things.
He put the glass down on the counter and wandered around the other-side of the island to find a new bottle. He knelt below the counter, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. He paused, peering around the corner, he looked towards the door of his apartment, as if somehow he’d be able to see through the walls and discern who was at his door. The knock came again.
He sighed, lifting himself up from his seated position. He peered at his watch, moving towards the door. Almost eleven at night. Was a little late for friendly visitors and Duncan wouldn’t show up at his door again would he? He’d just left the man. His visitor continued to knock. Slowly, and deliberately, three times. Each time.
In no rush to have visitors Emerson didn’t bother to announce his presence. Choosing instead to see who it was before deciding if he even wanted company. Unphased by the knocking, he approached the peep hole.
“Answer the door Em. I know you’re in there” Called the low voice from the other side of the door.
Emerson stopped before he looked through the peep hole. He knew that voice. He loathed that voice. That however did not explain why the man was at his door. He peered into the hallway certain of who he’d find standing on the other side of the door. A cold fury swept through his body, as he unlocked the door and swung it open.
“Hello Christopher.” The rage contained in Emerson’s voice was barely contained. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
The man smiled. “Please Em, it’s just Topher these days, Christopher always seemed so formal.” He seemed unfazed by the fury emanating off of Emerson. “May I come in?”
“No”. Emerson replied flatly. “I’ll ask again, to what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Come on Em, it’s been years. You can’t really still be upset can you?” The smile widened to a wolfish grin. “Besides even if you are. I don’t imagine you want to be having a conversation about those packages I sent over the other morning in the hallway, now do you?”
“I should have known it’d be you.” Emerson sneered. Of all the individuals on Henry’s list, Christopher Crawford, was the one man Emerson was certain he’d have had no remorse about killing. If there had been a silver lining to any of that mess with Henry, that would have been it. The man was a snake, and the scum of the earth as far as Emerson was concerned. All that considered he stiffly stepped to the side and allowed the man to pass in.
“Can I offer you a drink? A glass of wine, a bit of scotch maybe?” Emerson asked. Though he didn’t wait for a response, before marching towards the kitchen. The only way he was getting through this meeting was with a stiff drink in hand.
“Oh Em, always the gentlemen, even now to me, but I think I’ll pass. Even if I watched you pour, I’m not sure you wouldn’t try and find some way to slip some rat poison into it later.” Topher responded as he followed Emerson into the kitchen at a slower pace.
“I love what you’ve done with the place, a bit more furnished than when you and I first rented the place, do you remember those days?” He called after Emerson.
Emerson extracted the cork from the bottle, pouring himself a finger of the strong liquor. The man was goading him and trying as Emerson might to ignore it, it was working. “Why are you here Christopher?” He called without looking up from his task. A tone that brokered no games. “I thought we agreed to let sleeping dogs lie? Wasn’t that the agreement, you went your way and I went mine?”
“It was, ah, there it is” Topher swept his hands wide as he walked into the kitchen seeing the contents of the envelope splayed across the table. “I was a little worried you hadn’t received them.”
Emerson sipped at his glass. Staring at the man across the island. “You were saying?”
“Right! I was saying, that was the agreement, but then again, if memory serves me, the other part of the agreement was you were going to stay away from the Aquitaines. So imagine my disappointment, when I discover, that while I’m enjoying a lovely drink, with none other than the woman who turned out to be Henry Aquitaine’s beautiful daughter, that over in the corner I catch a glimpse of none other than Henry’s Aquitaine’s old lap dog skulking and watching her every move.” Whatever veneer of false civilityTopher had maintained until that point evaporated. It was clear Emerson was not the only one who held onto old grudges.
Happy to see he had gotten under the man’s skin at least a little. Emerson sipped more on the contents of his glass, hiding the smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
“And I had to think to myself,” Christopher continued, “Now why after all this time, would Henry call back him, of all people, to come back to the City. Wasn’t the first time enough? Was he not afraid it would kick up the dust that had settled so long ago? Revealing those secrets and bodies that had all but been forgotten?”
“No one forgot James.” Emerson’s voice cut through the speech like a knife. “Choose your next words carefully.”