The Scarlet Deep
Page 71
More Spanish curses assaulted him, and Gasper rose to his feet.
“Relax,” Murphy said. “I told you I didn’t think you killed anyone. This time.” He rose to his feet and buttoned his jacket. “Get everyone in the same room. Let’s see what shakes out when we all have to look at each other. I’m going to relieve Gemma and Anne. Hopefully none of your goons have killed each other yet. If they damage my woman, I’ll be annoyed.”
MOSTLY what happened when everyone was in the same room was a whole lot of glaring.
Murphy had ordered one of his people to find a giant map. He and Anne spread it out in the conference room they’d been meeting in and weighted down the corners with whatever they could find. Murphy walked around the room, tossing colored markers to each of the vampire leaders in turn.
“Now,” he said, smoothing his tie as they watched him. “The humans are gone. We’ve all given up our entourages—thank you, Gemma—so what we’re going to do now is cut through the massive piles of rubbish that everyone has been peddling while we’ve been here.”
“Who gave you permission to speak, Murphy?” Jetta asked. “This is Terry’s summit.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Terry said, “But I’m fucking pissed off at all of you, so I decided I’d let him talk.”
“And with that gracious introduction,” Murphy continued, “I’ll proceed. I’ve given you all colored markers. We’re going to put our notes on this map so we can all see what we’re dealing with. No double-talk. No posturing. People are dead and injured tonight, and someone in this room is responsible for it.” Murphy purposefully didn’t watch their reactions. He’d asked Anne to do that before the meeting. “I’ll start.”
He put a dot representing every ship he knew that had landed in Dublin with questionable cargo or crew, and a corresponding dot at the cargo’s point of origin, connecting the two. After he was finished, Anne did the same thing while he watched the participants.
Jetta looked annoyed. She clearly had something to say but was biting her tongue while glaring at Leonor.
Jean looked amused. He watched everyone’s reactions as more information went onto the schoolroom map, even catching Murphy’s eye and winking as Terry started to add his notes.
Leonor sat stiffly, aware that many suspected her of Rens’s murder.
Cormac glared at Leonor. But then, he glared at everyone. Novia wasn’t with him, and he was the only one Terry had allowed to keep a security guard in the room. But then, he was the only one currently missing half an arm.
Anne passed him a note. When will the Dutch be here?
Murphy shrugged. “We’re letting Carwyn deal with them,” he murmured. “That’s what he and Brigid are doing tonight with Roger.”
“That’s good. He’s probably the least likely to be killed.”
“He does have his uses.”
“Be nice.”
“I can be very, very nice.” He took her hand under the table. “I was hoping to have time with you tonight.”
“I was too.” She didn’t look at him, but he could see the smile touch her lips. “It’s all right, Patrick. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m counting on it.”
As more and more information went on the map, everyone began to see the pattern that Murphy had only suspected before.
Almost every ship that had carried Elixir had originated in the Black Sea. Most of the crews were either Eastern European or Turkish. And the vast majority of the Elixir and human carriers had ended up in the North Sea or the Baltic regions.
Cormac O’Brien was the last to stand and walk toward the map.
“I don’t have much to add here,” he said. “North America isn’t even on here. But the points of origin I can…” He cocked his head and marked down a few dates before he paused. He put a finger on the Black Sea and didn’t move.
“Cormac?” Anne asked.
“Fucking hell,” he murmured. “That’s why.”
Murphy leaned forward. “O’Brien, if you’ve got—”
“Fucking hell.” The American spun and glared at Jetta, then at Leonor and Jean. “One of you killed the Dutchman. Which one did she get to? What did she offer?”
Anne stood. “Cormac, who are you talking—”
“That Albanian bitch.” His pointing finger swung around the room. “That Albanian bitch got to one of you. I wondered what the hell she had planned, but I never thought one of you would cave.” He threw down his marker. “I’m gone. Novia and I are gone. Call me when she’s dead.”
Albanian? Murphy stopped him before he stormed out. “Who the hell are you talking about?”
“Zara,” he spit out, scribbling something in a small notebook that he put in his pocket. “That’s why someone tried to kill my daughter. Well, fuck you all. I’m not staying here to get caught in her web.”
De spinnekop.
Rens had called Livia “the spider.”
“O’Brien,” Terry yelled, “tell me what’s going on.”
Cormac looked over Murphy’s shoulder at the rest of the room. “Forget it.”
If he hadn’t been such an accomplished pickpocket in life, he would have missed the pass from the American. He let Cormac go and turned back to the room.
“Fuck off then,” Terry said, throwing a disgusted look at Cormac’s back. “Bloody American.”
“Relax,” Murphy said. “I told you I didn’t think you killed anyone. This time.” He rose to his feet and buttoned his jacket. “Get everyone in the same room. Let’s see what shakes out when we all have to look at each other. I’m going to relieve Gemma and Anne. Hopefully none of your goons have killed each other yet. If they damage my woman, I’ll be annoyed.”
MOSTLY what happened when everyone was in the same room was a whole lot of glaring.
Murphy had ordered one of his people to find a giant map. He and Anne spread it out in the conference room they’d been meeting in and weighted down the corners with whatever they could find. Murphy walked around the room, tossing colored markers to each of the vampire leaders in turn.
“Now,” he said, smoothing his tie as they watched him. “The humans are gone. We’ve all given up our entourages—thank you, Gemma—so what we’re going to do now is cut through the massive piles of rubbish that everyone has been peddling while we’ve been here.”
“Who gave you permission to speak, Murphy?” Jetta asked. “This is Terry’s summit.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Terry said, “But I’m fucking pissed off at all of you, so I decided I’d let him talk.”
“And with that gracious introduction,” Murphy continued, “I’ll proceed. I’ve given you all colored markers. We’re going to put our notes on this map so we can all see what we’re dealing with. No double-talk. No posturing. People are dead and injured tonight, and someone in this room is responsible for it.” Murphy purposefully didn’t watch their reactions. He’d asked Anne to do that before the meeting. “I’ll start.”
He put a dot representing every ship he knew that had landed in Dublin with questionable cargo or crew, and a corresponding dot at the cargo’s point of origin, connecting the two. After he was finished, Anne did the same thing while he watched the participants.
Jetta looked annoyed. She clearly had something to say but was biting her tongue while glaring at Leonor.
Jean looked amused. He watched everyone’s reactions as more information went onto the schoolroom map, even catching Murphy’s eye and winking as Terry started to add his notes.
Leonor sat stiffly, aware that many suspected her of Rens’s murder.
Cormac glared at Leonor. But then, he glared at everyone. Novia wasn’t with him, and he was the only one Terry had allowed to keep a security guard in the room. But then, he was the only one currently missing half an arm.
Anne passed him a note. When will the Dutch be here?
Murphy shrugged. “We’re letting Carwyn deal with them,” he murmured. “That’s what he and Brigid are doing tonight with Roger.”
“That’s good. He’s probably the least likely to be killed.”
“He does have his uses.”
“Be nice.”
“I can be very, very nice.” He took her hand under the table. “I was hoping to have time with you tonight.”
“I was too.” She didn’t look at him, but he could see the smile touch her lips. “It’s all right, Patrick. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m counting on it.”
As more and more information went on the map, everyone began to see the pattern that Murphy had only suspected before.
Almost every ship that had carried Elixir had originated in the Black Sea. Most of the crews were either Eastern European or Turkish. And the vast majority of the Elixir and human carriers had ended up in the North Sea or the Baltic regions.
Cormac O’Brien was the last to stand and walk toward the map.
“I don’t have much to add here,” he said. “North America isn’t even on here. But the points of origin I can…” He cocked his head and marked down a few dates before he paused. He put a finger on the Black Sea and didn’t move.
“Cormac?” Anne asked.
“Fucking hell,” he murmured. “That’s why.”
Murphy leaned forward. “O’Brien, if you’ve got—”
“Fucking hell.” The American spun and glared at Jetta, then at Leonor and Jean. “One of you killed the Dutchman. Which one did she get to? What did she offer?”
Anne stood. “Cormac, who are you talking—”
“That Albanian bitch.” His pointing finger swung around the room. “That Albanian bitch got to one of you. I wondered what the hell she had planned, but I never thought one of you would cave.” He threw down his marker. “I’m gone. Novia and I are gone. Call me when she’s dead.”
Albanian? Murphy stopped him before he stormed out. “Who the hell are you talking about?”
“Zara,” he spit out, scribbling something in a small notebook that he put in his pocket. “That’s why someone tried to kill my daughter. Well, fuck you all. I’m not staying here to get caught in her web.”
De spinnekop.
Rens had called Livia “the spider.”
“O’Brien,” Terry yelled, “tell me what’s going on.”
Cormac looked over Murphy’s shoulder at the rest of the room. “Forget it.”
If he hadn’t been such an accomplished pickpocket in life, he would have missed the pass from the American. He let Cormac go and turned back to the room.
“Fuck off then,” Terry said, throwing a disgusted look at Cormac’s back. “Bloody American.”
